Foolish Mess
 

They asked her where she got the necklace. It was this onyx crucifix she had put on a sterling silver chain. She wouldn't tell them where she got it, because it would make her feel terrible.

He knelt before her with his hands under her thighs, slowly pulled off her panties. "Fuck me right now" he said. But she was feeling distracted all the sudden.

There was a knock at the door. And she quickly put her pants back on. "False alarm!" she peeked through the curtains and saw Maggie peering in from the porch. "want to get some coffee?" she asked, but it was too late. The man was hiding in the bathroom, and the morning was indecent.

Shoulda gone to church.

The towns people called her a witch. Everyone hated her. And she wasn't even pagan, she just burnt images of Crowley from time to time and poured salt on her doorstep to cleanse it of the urine of drunk people. But lately it was feeling like the walls were caving in. Shoulda coulda woulda gone to church.

And she never did. Her necklace, miles away at a random hotel where she cried for three hours thinking about what a horrible sister she was to be such a reckless foolish mess.

And the hate just gets thicker and thicker from the people who never offered real friendship, just a bunch of excuses not to believe in anything.

But it's over and done with. The pills didn't kill her, and the man has come back to where he was, unbuttons her blouse and begins to believe again that he is more than her, when she is more than he'll ever know and will never comprehend.