Losing My Religion

Chapter 5



Chapter 5

Originally, when my dad had been deciding which college I would attend, he’d been planning on sending me out-of-state to a private religious school. Ultimately, he’d ended up valuing being able to check on me and keep me attending the same church while at the local college over the more exclusive option.

Now, going to church on Sunday with a demon inside me, I wished he’d have sent me away.

I’d strategically chosen to arrive just as the sermon was supposed to start, to give my dad as little time to question me as possible, but – as I probably deserved – I was unlucky.

I stood in the middle aisle of the church, nodding along to what my dad was saying, desperately waiting for the pastor to finally arrive – five minutes late – and allow me to take my seat in the pews. 

“So, son, how's your studies coming? You ready to become a billionaire yet?” He smiled and ruffled my hair, an affection that would’ve normally filled me with pride and satisfaction, but was instead twisted in my worried mind to be a threat that he was onto how poorly I was doing in school, the fact that I hated every one of my major courses and the secret I carried around with me.

“Any day now, I think that’s the next unit we’re going to cover,” I laughed, reciting my lines from within my bag of skin. He’d latched onto the idea that my business degree would make me rich for some reason, and it was the only idea he liked about me being in college. He’d even told me to avoid any religious classes, saying that I’d be corrupted by their liberal ideas.

“Don’t forget to stay away from those parties,” Another one of his boisterous laughs echoed across the walls, “They were crazy when I was in college, and you don’t need that kind of temptation in your life.”

I nodded, catching the subtext that he’d gone to those parties when he was younger that I’d somehow missed the first hundred times he’d told me that. 

“Of course,” I said, “I don’t need to make it harder on myself. In fact, I broke up with my girlfriend last week because she tried to pressure me into sex,” I smiled through the fabrication, feeling every bit as ill as I had on Thursday, when my energy had run out. 

“Good riddance!” He slapped his hand down on my shoulder in a move that was probably supposed to be congratulatory, “I’m sure she’s already onto some other guy, you know how those college girls are.”

Don’t think about Chris, don’t think about Chris, don’t think about Chris.

I was finally saved when the pastor arrived and I had to take my seat, next to my bible study group, an assortment of other young adults that had been going to the church with me for as long as I could remember.

Now all I have to do is sit through a lecture I’ve already heard and hope I don’t burst into flames during communion.

Communion ended up being a non-issue and went by as uneventfully as usual. What did come up during the sermon was something almost as distressing as bursting into flames would’ve been.

At some point during the lecture, I glanced down and noticed that a scar was missing from the back of my hand. I quickly added it back with shapeshifting – a risky move in hindsight – and tried to go back to listening.

The idea had already been planted in my head, however, that I might’ve messed up in other ways and a close examination of the freckles on my arms revealed that, yes, they were different than they were supposed to be. 

So I fixed that, and then fixed a dozen other things, growing more and more paranoid as I did so. I shifted the same freckles around in circles on my arm, trying futilely to find the one configuration that would finally feel right, would quiet the unease building within me.

Even once I’d stopped, realizing that not running out of energy was more important than ensuring all of my moles were in the correct places, the thought that my body wasn’t mine plagued me. It felt foreign, like the curtain had been pulled back and I’d only been a passenger in this statue of meat all along.

Even giving in to my ever present arousal to notice that one of my friends, Sophia, was really cute, wasn’t enough to distract me from the fact that Lily’s demon body was the only one I hadn’t messed up while shapeshifting to – the one that felt the most natural, especially when it came to the tail.

By the time my group had split off from the rest to have our weekly study session – where we used to discuss specific bible passages, but these days we just chatted about whatever – the worrying I’d been doing and the energy drain from my earlier shifting was starting to get to me. I stumbled into one of the plastic chairs set up in a circle and wiped the sweat forming on my forehead. 

“Adam, are you okay?” Sophia leaned over me, concerned, and pressed her palm to my forehead, checking me for a fever.

Sophia was the kind of girl you expected to find in every bible group: blonde, pale skin, and extremely studious. She had round glasses with a thin frame and always wore clothes in muted colors – brown, mustard yellow, or olive. Her current outfit was a dark green tunic and cream pants. 

“It’s Lil–” I coughed into my hand, “It’s like a fever or something,” I corrected. The sweet smell floating off her was distracting me.

“Do you need someone to take you home?” Her voice was quiet enough to avoid attracting the attention of everyone else, who were likewise engaged in conversations in groups of two or three.

“I took the train…” I responded, absentminded.

“Do you want me to get your dad?”

I shook my head violently. He was the last person I needed to see me like this.

“Do you need me to give you a ride?” She seemed to understand my desire to avoid my father.

I shrugged – or at least tried to. “If it’s not a big deal…” my words slurred together. How did I burn up all of my energy again, I’m so stupid! I suppose the energy-replenishing actions I’ve been doing haven’t exactly been the biggest ones…

She helped me up and told everyone that I was sick, and she was leaving to take care of me. We received a few waves of goodbye in return, and I got well wishes. The rest was a blur as she took me to my dorm room.

I’d been slowly gaining energy from her while she supported me, meaning that once we’d actually arrived at my room, I could walk by myself – or at least stumble by myself.

My roommate was there, although thankfully we didn’t see him, given that he was holed up in his room. 

Sophia laid me down on the bed and pressed her hand to my forehead again. “Hmm… I can’t tell if it’s not as warm as earlier or if I’m just used to it…” She leaned over and moved her head towards mine.

I scrambled back, “What are you doing?!” The stupid sweet smell, combined with what Chris had theorized it meant, had been making me realize just how attractive Sophia was. I’d admired her for a long time as a hard worker, someone that took our study group seriously, but now, I was also noticing how caring and gentle she was.

Then there were the more physical things, the things I didn’t want to admit I found attractive. The way her long slender neck looked so kissable, the way her height made it to where she would surely tower over me if I was Lily, the way her wavy blonde hair was styled so perfectly – like seriously how did she do that? Girls are magic…

Those were all of the things I didn’t want to think about – couldn’t think about if our theory on my random transformations to Lily were correct.

Of course, all of that went out the window when she climbed onto my bed and crawled over to me, cornering me against where the mattress met the wall. In hindsight, she was probably trying to kiss my forehead, a common way to get a read on someone’s fever, but at the time, all I could think about were all of the things I wasn’t allowed to.

Her concerned expression grew shocked as my body shifted.

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