The room is big, and beautifully lit. I sit awkwardly in the corner, anxiously pulling the hem of my skirt down over my crossed knees, painfully out of place, no matter how I try to hide behind the table. I silently curse the group guilty with abandoning me here. Loud voices bounce around the room, and I try to keep on a shaky smile. After a short while, the crowd thins out, filtering into the big room behind me. The room I'm in is suddenly empty, only a hollow beauty. My heels click against the floor if I shift my legs, loud, sharp echos.
Behind, a thick wooden door keeps me out. If I get up and walk around, I can peer in through the opening, down a long aisle, to an alter in golden and white light. A glimpse of what I'm not a part of. I sit at my little table again, my back to the closed doors.
I can hear the Lord's Prayer, and I can join in, mouthing the words to the chanting I learned mindlessly when I was young. Suddenly, a bell, ringing of a brassy dark death and eternal damnation rings out rhythmically, ticking down time to a fate I cannot place. It rings. I do not belong here.
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