Page 12 of Unholy

“What can you do?”

“Come on, Doc. You’ve known me for twenty-two years. I think you know what I’m capable of.”

“But will you follow through?”

“When have I not?” The bell sounds, letting me know my session is over. I snuff out my cigarette and stand from the couch, mock saluting his ass before heading out the door.

My mom waits outside, just like always. This is our time together. I give it to her weekly because I know she worries about me, and that’s the last thing I want.

“How’d it go?”

“He wants me to focus on my work more.”

“I’d agree. You’re doing really great things with your art, Tristan. In fact, I’ve been asked to speak to you about helping out down at the youth center.”

“What the fuck?” I laugh now. “Me at the youth center? I don’t fucking think so.”

“Really? You don’t want to help others who may be like you?” she asks.

“There’s no one like me, mom. I’m the sole fucking devil.”

“Tristan, come on. I hear Ash is going to work down there a bit. Maybe you two could go together.” Now, that has piqued my interest. If Ash is going, that would give me more time around her, which is exactly what I need.

“She is? She’s a little fucking do-gooder, isn’t she?” I laugh.

“No. Her dad has raised her to be there and help others.”

“You know I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Not being the perfect son.”

“You’re perfect in your own way, Tristan. You know that. We’ve been over this,” she tells me, reaching over to rest her hand on mine. I nod my head, although I don’t really feel shit.

“Youth center, huh?”

“Yeah. Could be fun.”

“Doubtful.”

“You’ll think about it? For me?”

“For you, I will.” She smiles happily before pulling out onto the road. We make it back to the house, and I head inside when I hear her soft sobs. I walk down the hall and see her bedroom door open and her on her knees on a broomstick. I’m about to speak and say something when her dad steps in front of me. He smiles like this is normal and closes the door in my face. What the fuck is he doing to her?

Ignoring the nagging in the back of my mind telling me to fuck his world up and grab her, I head for the basement instead.

I strip out of my shirt and grab the paint, popping it open, and get back to work on the walls down here. Fucking white. I can’t stand white walls. There’s just something so depressing about them. I know most would say that about black, but that’s not how I see it.

I finish painting and turn on some music, grabbing a joint and lighting a few candles around the room. Then I sit back and smoke, thinking about what the Doc and what my mom said. One trying to keep me away from the girl the other pushing me toward her. I chuckle at the irony of them both.

I keep smoking until I hear the door slam and a car take off out of the driveway. I walk over to the small window and peer out to see Ted’s car gone.

Snuffing out my joint, I walk up the steps and straight toward her room. The doors open, and I can hear soft sobs coming from inside. When I shove the door the rest of the way, I get a view of her naked back.

“He fucking do that to you?” She jumps, covering herself before grabbing a shirt and pulling it on.

“It’s a sin to see my naked flesh, Tristan.”

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