Another piece written for a contest on Gaia Online. I really enjoyed writing this, so I hope you'll enjoy reading it. There is homosexual content, but not much, so it shouldn't bother too many people. Please, if you enjoyed it, let me know. If you didn't enjoy it, feel free to tell me why not. Thanks.

It was dark outside and inside alike. We dorm girls sat in quiet, praying before bed with our strings of rosary clasped between our cold fingers. I looked over to Alice, whose eyes were closed tightly, shutting out all of the meagre candle light and focusing only on God. I sighed, and closed my eyes, imitating so many other people; there was some kind of comfort in the action. My heart thudded in my chest, beating in my throat as sweat prickled on my brow. Anticipation made me restless, and praying was not easy to do when your mind was wandering over vast cityscapes and worlds of fear. I felt a hand on my arm, the rosary beads in my hand slipping an inch lower. Opening my eyes cautiously, I spied Alice, who had stopped praying and was smiling at me kindly.

Three years older than myself, Alice had been at this school for nearly five years and she would soon be leaving. Her religion was unopposed throughout the school, as she was known as the most obedient student. Her long golden hair fell past her waist and her sparkling blue eyes lit up the room, at least when I was in it. She was my only friend, and the only one who knew what was about to happen. Smiling back at her, I patted her arm in thanks and closed my eyes again, not quite finished with my prayers.

I let the rosary beads slip between my fingers like grains of sand, counting them and naming a sin for every one. I left the last three uncounted, waiting. Dear God, I prayed, please don’t punish me for what I am about to do. Goodness knows how often I’ve told myself it’s wrong, but the feelings won’t go away. God, help me please. Purge me of all sin, so that I may not burn in hell, but come to you in Heaven. Please, forgive me. I knew what was going to happen. I was going to get called on at any moment, to confess to Sister Florence why I had been so disobedient in French. Only, when I got there, I didn’t know what would happen. I knew only what I needed to say.

Five minutes passed before I opened my eyes again, and Alice was still there, gazing at me with interest. She had left me to pray in peace, disturbing me only to say that the others had gone to wash. Now, she sat beside me, still fully clothed like myself and staring at the beads in my hands.

“The same prayer again? I’ve seen you say that one before today. Is it bad enough to keep coming back?” She swept her hair behind her ear gracefully and blinked.

“Yes. I suppose I have said it before.” Countless times I had stayed late in the chapel to pray by myself, repeating the same words over and over in my mind. I know it’s wrong, but it just feels so right! Nodding to Alice I lock my thoughts up a little tighter in my chest, promised only to her, and God himself. Even Alice couldn’t know the full extent of my pains.

“You’re being summoned again?”

“Yes. For French.”

“What did you do this time?”

“I was day dreaming, Alice. Like always. I can’t help it.” I had to hold my breath to fight the overwhelming urge to cry that was now upon me. “I can’t help the way I am, the way I feel, think. God, Alice, what should I do?”

Alice, sweet religious Alice who could be read like a book, responded exactly as she did to any situation. “Go to God.” I shook my head.

“Alice, I don’t think even God can help me this time.”

The hallways were as quiet and dark as the dorm as I clutched a candle in my hand and made my shaky, unsure way to Sister Florence’s office. It wasn’t the first time I had been, and I knew I could find the room with my eyes closed, but I still felt like a ghost, like I shouldn’t be there, like I didn’t belong. The candle flickered behind my guarding hand, but my footsteps carried on, unfaltering upon the cold floor. I heard no sounds other than the padding of my slippered feet, nor did I see another soul among the tapestries and grey stones.

The silence was in a way comforting, reminding me that the world would carry on, even if my life was turned the wrong way up. I reached Sister Florence’s office only minutes later, but it felt like I had been walking the hallways forever. My legs were like jelly, trembling with the strain of each step, and my hands were shaking so bad that I had to give up guarding the candle in case I burned my fingers. I knocked once and waited, knowing that tonight I was going to have to confess the thoughts that had been on my mind for months. I was going to have to give up my place here, in the education, and I’d probably be sent away to work some farm somewhere. That was what I feared most. School was my life, religion only a bonus for my parents. Without this education my life would be ruined.

“Good evening Helen. Late as usual.” Sister Florence swept open the great door with ease, her loose nightdress swinging about her tiny form. Perhaps no older than twenty three the young woman was not actually a sister, but a French and English teacher at the Catholic school, and required by Mother to be called Sister. She had a kind face, beautiful, deep almond eyes and ginger hair that curled up in a tight bun at her neck. I blushed as she scanned me carefully and stepped into her office upon request.

“Sorry miss. I was praying.”

“Oh Helen.” She shook her head, sighing wistfully. “You are always praying. And yet, you’re not the most religious are you?”

“I don’t suppose so, miss.”

“No, Helen, I don’t suppose so either.” She beckoned me closer with a finger, and gestured that I take a seat in the chair before the fire burning in the grate. I sat down with little ease, twisting the rosary that I still held close between my fingers. “Now, tell me. Why are you here?” Florence took an informal seat next to me, giving mixed messages. Was she mad with me, or did she simply have sympathy for me? I wasn’t ever sure with her...

“I... I was daydreaming again, in your lesson. I failed to learn, and it was disrupting, disobedient if you will.”

“If I will.” If I looked up I thought she could have been smiling, but I kept my eyes downcast and focused on the rosary in my lap. “If I will, then, may I ask why you were daydreaming? May I ask what you were daydreaming of?” I bit my lips, holding my breath as my stomach lurched. This was the question I had been waiting for.

“If- Sister? May I ask you another question as an answer to yours?”

“If you must.”

“What do you think of me? Not as a student, but rather as a person?” I looked up into her open eyes, searching for any kind of emotion other than baffled anger. I waiting for my question to register, and was taken aback by the flitting shadow that crossed the wonderfully kind eyes.

“What do I think of you?” Sister Florence was silent, as if fighting a battle in her mind. “I think that you are a day dreamer, that you have no regard for this school’s rules, and that you should care more about your future.” She was curt, her answer loud in the quiet of her office. I closed my eyes and looked away, the rosary going slack in my palm. “But, Helen. I called you here to ask you what you are daydreaming about. You have not yet answered my question.”

“I would like very much to tell you-” I began as Sister Florence laid a hand on my arm. I flinched, not wanting her to know what I could feel, thinking that if she touched me for long enough, I would taint her too.

“Then, why don’t you tell me? There is nothing you could dream about that would upset me. I am here only to find out why you are so distant.”

“I dream about you.” There, I had said it. The candle that I had brought with me, and that had been placed on the table upon my entrance, now blew out and left us in the semi darkness. I could feel her eyes on my face, but I couldn’t meet her gaze.

“You-” Sister Florence began, but was unable to finish her sentence. I could almost hear the cogs working in her mind. When she finished her sentence, however, the emotion there was complete unexpected. “You dream about me?” Her voice was light, airy, and she seemed almost happy.

“Sister?”

“I’m not a sister.” I raised my eyes to meet hers, and even in the darkness they sparkled. “My name is Florence for a reason.” I didn’t know what to say. My heart fluttered so loudly I thought it should tell the whole abbey of my feelings, and bring them right to us.

“Sister- Florence. Help me. I don’t understand. How can I feel like this? It’s wrong! It’s sinning! Cheating God!” Florence lifted her hand to my face, and placed her fingers against the side of my mouth, tracing my lips.

“I thought it was just me.” She whispered. “I thought it was all my emotion. When you looked at me, I thought it was me who was imagining things...” She trailed off, and then focused on my face again, staring intently into my eyes. As for cheating-” She smiled and stroked my forehead. I, for the first time since meeting her, didn’t flinch away from her touch, welcoming the softness of her skin against the heat of mine. “We all cheat if we can’t win.”

“Please, don’t confuse this.” I murmur. “I don’t understand this.”

“What is there not to understand?” I didn’t know the answer to this question. I had never been clever, and it wasn’t in my nature to make something up, so instead I shook my head and slumped down. “My goodness.” She smiled, not angry like I assumed she would be. I looked up at her again, the floor tiles still swarming my vision. “Love is wasted on the young.” She lifted my face up, placing her hand tenderly on my neck.

“What-”

“Shh.” She put her finger to my lips. “I’m sorry. Helen, I have to do this. I just can’t leave it this way!” I had never seen Florence’s eyes sparkle so much, not even when she was speaking in French, a poem that she had written the night before in English. Her smile was contagious and soon I found my lips arching up to mirror hers, like an art that seems to have no ending in its symmetrical beauty.

“You have to-”

“Kiss you.” She leaned in and placed her lips against mine. At first I was startled, and I tried to pull away, but she only held me firmly and pressed her lips harder. Then, I found that I was melting against her, my whole body going as slack as the forgotten rosary beads in my lap. I lifted my arm to her neck, to draw her closer; now I had her, I wasn’t going to let go.

“Florence.” The word sounded foreign on my lips as I spoke her name. The silence after the kiss was overwhelming, like being silent in the crowd after loud music. The expectations and awe are still hanging about the air like snowflakes suspended before the ground. That was how I felt, like I was suspended in the air, lost and unsure, but feeling happy and enlightened.

“Helen...” She whispered my name quietly, as if afraid of spoiling the moment. “Helen, Helen, Helen.”

“What if-”

“They catch us? They won’t.” She smirked, the smile rippling across her features seamlessly.

“But what if-”

“Oh Helen, shut up and do what you’ve been dreaming of. I know you want to.” She smirked again and pulled me onto her, lying back against the soft material of the sofa. I pressed myself against her, my heart thudding louder than my breathing, and I lowered my mouth to hers. I brushed my lips against her cheek, grazing her pearl skin. This was all wrong, all so very wrong, but it felt so good! It felt so right! And, even though she was older than me, and almost a sister herself, she never once seemed to condemn what we were doing, and so deep down inside I gave up that part of me who stuttered in French, and cried into her pillow at night. I threw that part away, the part of me that couldn’t pray without listing everybody else’s sins first and who was so selfish she wouldn’t lend her comb to her best friend. That person was gone, and left behind was Helen. The Helen that Florence could see.

Our kisses grew more pressing, more powerful, and the roar of emotions inside of me ebbed and flowed like the tide. I could see that Florence was experiencing the same, for her eyes were sparkling brighter than ever, and her beautiful copper hair fanned out on the cushion like a fiery halo.

“Florence.” I said her name again, so much emotion riding on that one word. “Oh Florence. I love you, I always have! I wanted to tell you for so long! I have wanted to do this, for every day since the moment I walked into your classroom and you smiled at me. Oh, you smiled at me with those lips, so red! I love you!” I raised my voice a little, to prove my dedication to this woman who I had spent so many hours with. The flurry of kisses was unhurried, passionate and burned my flesh, but the words that I spoke were nothing if not a mark on the moment. Florence smiled in mid kiss, and licked my bottom lip, which I hadn’t noticed was bleeding.

“Sorry.” Sheepishly, she kissed my nose and blushed. “I hurt you.”

“No.” I rubbed my nose thoughtfully. "You could never hurt me.”

“I’m glad.” She leaned in for another kiss, her arms roaming up and down my back, but before I could lower myself to give her what she wanted, I heard the door creak. A sound of scuffling shoes across the flagstones made me jump up from Florence’s lap and an ‘o’ shape of surprise formed in the shape of my mouth. Florence, unaware of the danger stood up as well, and placed her lips on mine. I was unable to pull away, captivated by the taste of her, the smell, and I found myself wanting to stay close to her forever.

“Here!” I heard a shout, but couldn’t make myself care. I had Florence in my arms, and that was all that mattered. She, herself, was so engrossed in what she was doing that she failed to even notice the voices.

“There! Look!”

“What is that?” A remark of disgust rose from behind us, and I finally made myself break away. Guiltily I turned around, seeing for the first time the wide open door and the two women who dominated the doorway. Florence lifted her hand to her mouth in shock, and let out a little gasp of horror. The looks on the faces of the two powerful women made me squirm.

“They were... They did it. I can’t believe it.” One of the women, the older of the two, and presumably the one in charge, looked up at the ceilings and murmured a few words of prayer. “At it like rabbits if we hadn’t got here. Sister, grab the young’un. We’ll sort this out. Take her to Mother. Now.” The younger woman came at me, grabbing my shoulders and frog marching me away from Florence. My arms reached out, as if drawn by a magnet to touch her. To comfort her as she was grabbed from behind and pulled from me. I let out a sob, but was otherwise silent, because more than anything, I was afraid of what this woman would do to me, or what she would do to Florence.

“I’m sorry.” I said those two words, before I was dancing lonely in a sea of grey cobbles and dark, cold windows. I caught their glares in the glass as we passed by, and I shuddered thinking but one thing; we walk alone like broken lovers, how could this have happened? I was so careful, God. Why are you punishing me for what is right?

“This must end.” I heard one of them speak, but I could see nothing but the silver tears that fell onto Florence’s porcelain skin, and the ruffled mass of fiery, angelic hair. I love her. But what is love, when everything is against you? When everything you do is carefully monitored? Not enough.

As the rough hands grip at my shoulders and my arms are pulled into awkward positions I think of nothing but how foolish I have been. How foolish, yet how wonderful it has been and how I wouldn’t give any of tonight up for the world. Not even for God.