Ecstasy

Chapter 3

Yasmin:

This was it: 4th Grace Avenue. My heart skipped a beat, and I nearly fell backwards trying to take in the tall and grand building. I made the sign of the cross on my chest and kissed my rosary. The priest had always warned us about the rich as well as places like this: havens for sin and evil, people tied to their wealth and their money, futile, buys them a spot in hell.

The security guard let me in and led me to the front door. I gulped and looked at him.

“What?” he snapped, and I showed him my bandaged hands. His stiff face reddened slightly, and his fist knocked heavily on the thick door, which made me jump. As soon as the door clicked from the inside, the security guard hurried to his post and left me alone. The door opened, and an elderly maid stood at the post. Her smile was kind yet full of pain.

“Good morning, I am Sister Yasmin. I came to see Mrs. West.”

She nodded wordlessly and ushered me in. The home was beautifully furnished: chandeliers hung from the ceilings like crystals, the marble tiles were polished so thoroughly that I could see my face in them. And that smell… what was cooking?

My mouth watered; I hadn’t had anything to eat all day. Fasting till evening was part of my penance, followed by ten ‘Hail Mary’s’ and ten ‘Lord’s Prayer’ before I could eat anything.

“Mrs. West is in here,” the maid said weakly, ushering me into an upstairs room with the lights dimmed and an elderly lady laying in bed with a kind smile, knitting pins and what looked like a blanket.

“Thank you, Janet,” she said with a smile, and Janet left.

I was alone with her. She patted an empty chair that was at her bedside, and I moved to sit. Her face was pale, her hair wiry and white, yet the aura of death loomed over her like a haze, but she kept the smile on her face wide and bright, knitting happily like it was just a casual Tuesday.

“What is your name, dear?” She asked as I sat down and took out my rosary.

My heart paused for a moment as I looked into her kind face and deep blue eyes. Her voice was so soft and warm. It felt almost… angelic.

“Y-Yasmine. Yasmine Kavari. Should we start with the rosary?” I asked innocently, my hands trembling, still thinking of her ethereal voice.

“Yasmin Kavari…”

She tested my name on her tongue, and it sounded like it was spoken by the angel Gabriel. I could only imagine how Mary’s name sounded on his blessed tongue.

“...It has a lovely ring to it. It is a beautiful name.”

My heart skipped a beat, and my body felt tingly all over. A smile curled my lips, and my face lit up with delight. I had heard kind words before. My father’s love was not only tough but tender too, just like our Lord’s.

“Let us start with the Rosary.”

My fingers massaged a pearly bead, but Mrs. West placed her frail, pale hand on mine, wrapped up in bandages that barely allowed any movement for my fingers. Those eyes caught me again, and I felt a lump form in my throat as I was pulled into their enchanting gaze.

“No need, dear. I doubt I will live long enough to receive the rites.”

“No! I… I can get a priest. He can... He can come and pray for you immediately!”

I tried to stand up, but her hands wrapped around my wrists tenderly and pulled me back into my seat.

“No need, child. There is not enough time. I just wanted to talk. Not about the Bible or anything like that, just a harmless discussion until I transcend this world. Please… stay.”

I had only just met this angelic lady, and she could die any minute, and all she wanted was to talk… to me. My heart cracked and chipped. God called his saints home with death, but this lady… I had barely met her and yet, I didn’t want her to leave; I didn’t want her to be called home. Why didn’t I meet her earlier?

“Can you knit, dear?” she asked, and I gave a small nod. “Lovely. Find Janet and ask her to give you another pair of pins and wool.”

I hurried out of her room and searched for Janet. Each second that I didn’t find her filled me with dread… dread that I would return to the room, and she wouldn’t be alive anymore, that she would be cold and lifeless, unable to speak to me. Where was Janet…

“Ouch!”

I bumped into something hard and reeled backwards, closing my eyes and rubbing my nose in pain.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” a deep, rumbling voice bellowed, and I felt my body freeze in place. My heart started and stopped, and my eyes… I dared not open them. My hair stood on end, and my breathing was caught in my throat feeling the dark aura around me, suffocating me.

“I will ask for the last time. Who. Are. You? And look at me when I am talking to you?”

My eyes opened immediately, and a gasp escaped my lips as I met a pair of dark blue eyes on a stern, chiseled face, glaring at me with an icy coldness.

“I… I am Sister Yasmin,” I whimpered, unable to pull away from this tall, handsome man’s cold gaze. His eyes looked me over, slowly, and I felt my cheeks redden and burn. I was dressed in my habit, yet it felt like his stare could penetrate through all my layers. My lips parted for me to breathe. Never before had I felt so open, so exposed… so… seen. I was here for Mrs. West, yet I could barely breathe when he looked at me.

“Well, Sister Yasmin–”

I shuddered as he tested my name with his rumbling voice. No one had ever said it the way he did. My name, which I had known my whole life, my identity, felt foreign to me in his presence, on his tongue. It was like a name I had never received but would be happy to be called by as long as it came from him.

“–You stepped on me. Fix it.”

“Y-yes Sir. Forgive me, Sir.”

Almost immediately, I scrambled to my knees and dusted the tiny footprint my shoes left on his thick, leathery boots. My hands were on the cold floor, but I didn’t mind. I would do anything to avoid this man’s wrath, anything to please him.

“Look at me,” he whispered, and my attention was pulled upward and gripped by those icy blue eyes of his. His hair was silvery and sleek. He was very tall and muscular; my nose only touched his chest when I bumped into him. He was like no one had ever seen.

My lips were parted to help me breathe, and his eyes never left me as he searched his pocket. A ring of keys clattered to the floor beside me, and I rushed to pick them up and hand them to him, gazing back at his tall and muscular frame in fear and awe.

“Here you go, Sir.”

“Thank you,” he whispered softly and placed a soft finger under my chin. “Such a good girl. Now, on your feet.”

I did so, following the pace of his finger on my chin as it guided me to stand upright. My stomach clenched and squirmed. Good girl… the words in my head made me squirm and sent shudders down my spine. I had never been called that by anyone but I did know this: I wanted to hear it again… from him.

“What are you looking for?” he asked, his arms back at his sides but his gaze still cold and firm. I took deep breaths, trying my best to will my trembling lips to speak.

“M-Mrs. West asked… asked me to find Janet. I-I-I think she needs… uhmm… wool and… pins.”

My mouth clamped shut, and I stood there breathless, waiting for a reply that seemed to take an eternity. Without warning, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me along. I followed him willingly, without struggle, my legs struggling to meet up with his strides. Soon we stopped in front of a glass cabinet, stocked with wool and pins. I had never seen so many in one place.

The handsome man opened it and pulled out three large balls of yarn and a pair of knitting pins. He carried them, his muscular arms bulging as he held them firmly and walked to Mrs. West’s room with me tagging behind.

“Grandmother,” he said with a gentle knock on the door as he pushed it open. “You asked for yarn?”

Mrs. West, thankfully, was still alive and still had her angelic smile, but her gentle aura now clashed with the dark and imposing aura of this man…

Wait a second! Grandmother?!

“There you are, Jacob. I was wondering if Yasmin was lost. Thankfully she found you.”

Mrs. West smiled and set her pins down on her lap.

“Yasmin, I guess you have met Jacob West, my grandson…”