Page 351 of Bad for Me

Of course there’s plenty he’s not telling you,I wanted to shout at them, but they wouldn’t listen. Where these gossips were concerned, there was no such thing as privacy. No such thing as personal space. Hell, if men of the cloth could get married, Clarice would have probably already pawned one of her annoying ass whorish daughters on him.

“Oh, looks like some Irish bloke from the homeland decided to try spreading the good word overseas,” I remarked, cutting off Ms. P and her incessant drivel. “Nobody’s sure what his name is, so I guess I’ll find out when I show up to church tomorrow.”

“Oh, thank you so much, Scarlett,” she droned, gushing with appreciation and sweetness that would rot your teeth if given the chance. “You’re such a good help to us, you know. I don’t know what I’d do without you and your work with the blood drives.”

I bet,I thought to myself, letting a trickle of self-importance filter in through my carefully-constructed walls. “Well, it was nice chatting with you, Ms. P. I’ll be sure to talk to him tomorrow, okay?”

After a few saccharine goodbyes, I finally got her off the phone, only to realize one of the ladies in my group chat had sent a picture file to the chat. Curious, I opened it with little expectation, already using my other hand to reach for a hairbrush.

Okay, that’s interesting.

On my screen appeared a conventionally handsome man, decked out in his vestments at the pulpit, very much in the middle of a sermon, from the looks of it. His shaggy auburn hair fell around his face in neat waves, the hint of a curl in their shadowed locks complimenting the most gorgeous set of green eyes I’d ever seen. His hands, defined and well-proportioned, were raised slightly to punctuate whatever point he was making, and his lips were tugged upward at the corners like he was enjoying the topic at hand.

A rarity in his line of profession.

Our last priest had been allfire and brimstone and hell comes for you if you sin indiscriminately,and it was a welcome change to see someone who didn’t appear to be threatening his congregation with eternal damnation. It might make Sunday sermons more tolerable if I didn’t feel like they were targeting me in secret.

There was no way the previous priest could have known what secrets lay behind my carefully-crafted exterior. Hell, he’d never paid me enough attention to know my first name, let alone the darkest recesses of my soul.

Another buzz from my phone had me looking back at the group chat. Good ‘ole Kathy Madison had chimed in–this time, with a name.

–I think they said his name is Jude O’Leary. He’s nice enough. A sweet boy.

–Thanks for the details! I can’t wait for Sunday services, ladies. Let’s chat soon.

I closed out the chat app and switched to social media, swiping through a few bots in my inbox, liking a few videos some girls in the volunteer group at the shelter sent over, and replying to a few queries about my health and general well-being. I didn’t have much in the way of a family anymore–Daddy had gone and gotten himself entangled with a married woman, which resulted in his being shot by the jealous husband when he got caught in bed with the wife. And Mama, well, she’d sniffed her way into an early heart attack, poor thing. She left me the clothes on her back, and a few knick-knacks, but the bank got the house, and I got nothing.

There were no grandparents that I’d ever known. No random inheritances to be had. All I knew was that someday, I’d be laid to sleep in a pauper’s grave alongside the husband I managed to snag, who would never know what I really did with my endless Fridays.

He would always think I snuck off to see another man, or maybe he’d believe my outright lies, whatever story I fed him to make him believe that there was nothing to worry about. I’d never thought of getting married, but surely it would be expected of me.

It’s what she would have done.

A shock of cold swept over me, and I sucked in a deep breath, trying desperately to dispel the feeling of being watched. It was a ridiculous notion, but one that haunted my every waking moment. It lurked in the deepest recesses of my mind, ready to lurch out and grab hold of me at a moment’s notice. I ached for the simplicity of a normal life, one I hadn’t known since I was a teen, but I’d never get back the feeling of normalcy that I’d once lived with.

No, I was doomed to be forever haunted by the mistakes of my past. Mistakes which caused hallucinations and horrendous nightmares. Mistakes that shaped my life and turned it in a completely different direction than it was ever meant to go.

Scarlett McKeen. Volunteer, good samaritan, practicing Catholic, and all-around angel of the congregation. The girl anyone could count on in any circumstance. The one who always answered when you called and was reliable and kind to a fault.

A fraud. A fake. A secret harlot who whored through all the seediest of men on the weekends to pay for her ridiculously magnanimous life.

My phone rang again, and this time, I ignored it, flipping it screen-side down for a moment while I processed my dark train of thoughts.Would anyone care if the real me just fell off the face of the earth and died? I bet they’d miss Scarlett the good girl. Everyone would miss the doormat me.

This wasn’t the first time the intrusive thoughts gained a chokehold on me. Far from it. This line of thought plagued me often as of late. But I had to keep going; I had to keep on until–

Until when, exactly? There might never be a fucking end in sight for me, for this.

How long would I play this farce out? How long could I keep up the charade, and live someone else’s life? Would anyone ever catch up to me?

Hard to tell.

“Imagine, being who I was really meant to be. I can’t imagine it. All I’ve ever known for half of my life is a lie.” I spoke to my fucking dog, the mutt I’d adopted when it became unnaturally attached to me at the shelter where I volunteered. I wasn’t much for animals, let alone lovey ones, butshealways had been, so I adopted the fucking pathetic thing when it became clear it was attached to my person.

Fido, as I’d generously named him,humphedin reply, turning in a circle before settling his shaggy ass on the corner of my bed, a place he knew he was most certainly not allowed. We did our usual song and dance of the inevitable stare-down, then a little death glare, which he followed up by closing his eyes and blatantly ignoring me.

“Fine, sleep on the bed, see if I give a shit,” I muttered, knowing damn well the dog himself wouldn’t talk back, but knowing his answer anyway.

With a new layer of frustration added to the ever-growing weight on my shoulders, I shrugged on a pretty pink sweater, pulled a plain black skirt over my hips, and threw on a meek white belt for definition. Dolled up and prepared to do charitable things for the community I sequestered myself in, I unlatched the doggie door and made sure the fucking beast had fresh water and food out for himself, then swiped a set of keys off the counter and locked the door behind me.

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