The Exorcism of Sofia Flores by Danielle Vega

Author:Danielle Vega [Vega, Danielle]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Bullying, Young Adult Fiction, Horror, Paranormal, Social Themes, Occult & Supernatural
ISBN: 9781101631331
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2016-07-05T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I don’t stick around to watch the play. I duck into one of the dressing rooms and hunch down on a stool at the makeup table, hiding like a coward. My reflection stares out from the mirror. I shift my eyes to my knees. I can’t stand to look at myself.

Speakers hang from the ceiling, broadcasting the play to the empty room. Leena’s staticky voice bounces off the walls around me. She recites every line perfectly.

I hide there until the play is over, and then I busy myself backstage, sweeping sand and gathering props until I’m sure Leena has headed back to the dorm. I’ve practiced my apology a dozen times by then, but it still sounds wrong. Forced. Leena will never forgive me.

Our dorm is empty when I get back, but there’s a note waiting on my bed.

We’re meeting up with Dean and his friend at the chapel to toast Leena’s AMAZING performance. Come meet us (use the back door)!!! —Sutton

ps—destroy this message after you’ve read it. xoxoxo

Leena snuck out? I swear under my breath, crumpling the piece of paper in one hand. She’d never risk getting in trouble if she hadn’t seen Jude and me backstage. I push myself to my feet and grab my coat.

• • •

Moonlight paints the chapel’s whitewashed siding silver. It glints off the stained glass windows, making them wink in the darkness.

I stop at the gate. Something dashes through the brush, rustling the leaves before going still. I flinch and glance over my shoulder, certain I’m going to see Father Marcus step out of the trees, the word expelled already on his lips. But there’s no one. Clouds drift over the moon, blocking the last tendrils of light.

Voices echo from inside the chapel. I shiver and slip through the gate, pushing it closed with a creak.

The chapel’s back door opens into a narrow room. A small table leans against the wall to my left, holding a leather Bible and a heavy brass candleholder. I brush my fingertips lightly over the candleholder, looking around the space. The room feels familiar. I frown, studying the shadows gathering in the corners, the stained glass window, the paintings staring down from the walls—

I feel the hot splash of blood hitting my cheek. I hear the sound of leather slapping against skin. Thwap!

I jerk my hand away from the table, horror rushing over me. This room seems familiar to me because I’ve seen it before. Jude knelt naked on the floor just feet from where I’m standing, cringing as Father Marcus whipped him.

I hold my breath and hurry through the heavy velvet curtains hanging open on the far wall. I don’t inhale again until I reach the main altar. The air in that tiny room felt wrong, somehow. Spoiled.

Prayer candles flicker from the altar, casting a dull golden glow over the rows of wooden pews. I spot Sutton sitting on a windowsill near the front entrance. Dean hovers over her, his mouth buried in her neck. She wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

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