Sinful Obsession

4. 4 – Vienna

4 – Vienna

A n irritated groan slips from my lips the next morning as I stomp down the stairs in search for food. My body aches in the best of ways but there’s the pang of loneliness that always follows when Asmodeus leaves. My parents are seated in their usual spots, staring at me as I fiddle with the cabinets and then the fridge, looking for something that’s more than the bagels laid out on the table.

They’re sitting there as if nothing’s wrong. As if everything isn’t about to explode. As if all those things Asmodeus told me last night aren’t true.

My mother clears her throat and gestures to my space across from my father, silently demanding for me to take a seat. I do, but not without an annoyed huff as I snatch a bagel and start dragging a thick wallop of cream cheese across it with the communal knife. The anger I went to bed with is still there, fighting to take over and say what I really want to say. All of the lies and the secrets and the betrayals… how could they?

It's always been about protecting me from evil, protecting me from the outside world that would cause me to sin when the biggest sinners are right here in this house. What even is the point? Are they purposely trying to keep me from Asmodeus? Is it really just about control? Whatever the reason, I’m over it.

I take a hefty bite of my bagel before dropping it to the table’s surface, my mother scowling at the mess of crumbs that scatter across the wood. She locks eyes with me, taken aback at the fierceness in my gaze because unlike her, I’m done playing games. If they want to get on their knees and let the creator of the universe raw dog them with lies, that’s on them. I’d rather have a certain vibrating cock if I’m being honest. My gaze drifts to my father who looks disinterested as always, my expression hardening. “Why the fuck did neither of you tell me?” I don’t care how harsh the question sounds but it’s been 21-motherfucking-years and all I’ve had to deal with is ridicule and not being enough.

My mother stops with a glass of juice halfway to her lips, my father’s face suddenly pale at the accusation. He has to know what I’m talking about but the confusion on my mother’s face intrigues me. Could she possibly not know what’s going on?

“Vienna, we don’t need to have this conversation at the table,” my father pushes out. He picks up his napkin and dabs at his lips, about to repeat his words but I just hold up my hand and turn to my mother.

She’s looking between the both of us. “Vienna, what are you talking about?”

“The affair,” I blurt out, pointing to my father. “About all of it. About how you don’t even like me? About how hypocritical both of you are while demanding that I be perfect in the eyes of the lord and all that bullshit.”

My mother sets down the glass of juice, glaring at my father just as he shakes his head. A flash of panic crosses his face before he forces a calm, dismissive smile onto his face. “Vienna, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says but the tightness in his jaw and the way his fingers curl around the edge of the table tells me otherwise. He’s lying. He’s still lying.

“Don’t. Don’t act like you don’t know. I know about everything you two have been keeping from me.” I think about adding the fact that Asmodeus let me in on these little tidbits but I don’t have to. If I think about it hard enough, it’s pretty easy to see the truth. All those late nights when Dad slipped out of the house, saying that there were a few things he needed to finish up at the church. All those moments when I brought home my perfect report card or a trophy and my mother told me that I needed to do better.

All the times when I sat at this very table and felt like I was living a life I didn’t understand.

“Mom, you didn’t even know about the affair, did you? This is what I’m talking about! Dad’s even keeping secrets from you!” There’s a brief flash of guilt in my father’s eyes before it disappears. I expect my mother to chew my father out, to tell him how immoral he’s been and that he needs to repent—just the way she’s done to me every time I talk about Asmodeus.

Instead, she just sits there in silence, mulling over her options, looking between the both of us. It takes her several minutes to speak again and I should have known that I would still be in the wrong. “Vienna, there is a lot going on here and I know that it’s hard to understand but it’s not healthy to dwell on it.” She blows out a breath, reaching for my father’s hand and squeezing it. She fucking knew. “Is this about Asmodeus?”

The name drops from her lips like a curse as if he’s in the wrong. Strangely enough, the demon is the only one who hasn’t lied to me.

“He’s the only one that gives me the truth, even if it hurts. You sit here and lie to my face even after I pointed things out! Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?” I clutch at my chest, trying not to play into the dramatics but their continued disbelief is making it hard to deal with any of the words coming out of their mouth. Deciding to take it one step further, I point to my neck, the iridescent bond mark Asmodeus left yesterday. It seems to change colors between a dark purple black and a midnight blue, a beautiful mix of beauty and darkness. Instead of belief, I’m just met with horror.

My mother’s eyes widen, almost comically as she stares at it. “You let that demon mark you?!”

And there it is. She’s known all along that the demon hasn’t been in my head. “So, you know he’s real?”

My mother pushes to her feet, her gaze narrowing as she jabs a finger into my shoulder. “I’m pointing out the fact that you went so far as to let this imaginary dark presence claim you. We all know that he isn’t real but trying to prove he is by whatever is on your neck is disgusting.”

“He’s more real than any of this,” I shout, my voice wobbling against my control. “He’s the only one who understands me, the only one who’s ever been there for me. And he knows what you’ve been hiding, all the secrets you keep so carefully tucked away. Like Dad’s affair. He told me everything. That Dad’s been cheating on you, that you’ve been lying to me, keeping me sheltered, making me out to be some broken thing just so you can control me.”

“Stop this, Vienna,” my mother says, her voice trembling with something between anger and fear. “Whatever this… this demon is telling you, it’s not true. He’s poisoning you, filling your head with lies.”

“Poisoning me? For a brief moment, I thought that you didn’t know, that you were kept in the dark about Dad but you knew. You stayed with him? Is the affair still going? Who is it anyway? Please tell me it’s not the fucking greeter at church, the size 2 one that’s a few years older than me?” My father averts his gaze and I burst out laughing. It isn’t even a secretary or someone my father sees everyday. I wonder if she smiled at him a few times before he decided that he had to have her.

Once again, my mother has no reaction to any of this, just the fact that I’m supposedly acting at. She squeezes my shoulder and then moves to the kitchen counter before returning with a small orange bottle. “I spoke with your doctor and he thinks that maybe it’s time to up the dosage a little bit. This isn’t you. You’re not thinking clearly.”

I stare at the offending medication, suddenly realizing how much my mother has had her hands in my life. No doctor would ever prescribe my medication to my mother when I’m an adult by law. I’ve always had to set up the therapy appointments but she tagged along to make sure that I went. Even so, the doctor always handed me the script, not her. I read the label, not recognizing the names on there but it’s obvious that it wasn’t my doctor who prescribed these.

“Yeah, I’m not taking anything that I don’t understand. I humored you the first few times but I’m not fucking crazy. You can choose not to believe me but that doesn’t mean you get to shove medicine down my throat to keep me quiet. And before you go on another spiel about corruption or deceit or anything else that Asmodeus is doing, maybe ask yourselves why I chose to side with a demon rather than whatever the fuck you two call religion.” I push to my feet as my mother searches for some response but I’m not waiting around to hear it. My fists clench at my sides but Asmodeus’ voice in the back of my head, a soft soothing presence keeps me from acting out. In the end, these two people are still my parents. That doesn’t mean I have to stay here and be ridiculed.

So, I choose the next best thing and grab my keys from the counter. My father steps in my way—when or how he moved from the table so fast, I don’t know—a pleading tone to his next words. “Keep this to yourself, Vienna. You don’t understand everything that’s going on and I would hate for you to make a rash decision while you’re angry.”

I snort and walk around him. “Unbelievable,” slips from my mouth as I head outside and stuff myself into my car. My head is a mess, a whirlwind of anger and betrayal, the need to clear my thoughts the only thing on my mind. Well, that and exposing my father for the fraud that he is.

Pulling out of the driveway, I speed down the quiet road and stop just before the first light to make a post shattering the sweet life I’ve always lived.

Seems I live in a family of hypocrites. Who else knew that my dad was boning the cute little greeter?

Maybe I should have dealt with it in a healthier manner but I never claimed to be healthy or completely sane. I’m just not the kind of crazy my parents or friends think I am. And when the likes and comments start rolling in as I head for the highway, I hope that the bit of satisfaction will carry me through today.