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The Black Veil Bride To Be

Agnus Dei

Andy’s POV

“Andy,” my mom said pounding on my bedroom door incessantly, “Andrew Dennis, make haste you’re going to make us late!”
“Make haste?” I chuckled opening my door, “This isn’t 1492, mom,”
“Well, even so, I’m sure Christopher Columbus wasn’t late for his voyage to the New World, son,” that was my mom for you. Witty and smart she was, sometimes it just irritated me that we had to hurry and for what? Church. If anything, it had to be utterly unholy to be up before eleven on a Sunday morning.

“Oh Chris, will you come on!” she hollered,
“I’m trying, Amy! It’s this damn tie,” he huffed giving up on fighting with the tie,
“Here,” insisted my mother, rushing to his aid, “better?” she asked finishing the tie.
“Have I ever told you that you’re amazing?” my dad smiled,
“Everyday,” she kissed him quick and grabbed her purse off the kitchen counter, I sat on the couch glancing through my phone hoping to hear back from Scout. She was in Los Angeles waiting to hear back from these agents about a role in a new movie.
“Andrew, hurry and get your shoes on!”
“They are on!” I protested,
“Your church shoes!”
“They don’t fit!”
“Fine,” she huffed, “I’m not going to argue, wear your Converses to church, I don’t care! Just don’t let Father Cesare see them! You know how old fashioned he can be, the old dragon.”

Father Cesare was the headmaster at my mom’s all girls Catholic school when she was growing up so she knew him very well. I, for one, have only had the mere acquaintance of meeting him in church, which we rarely went to except for on holidays. At the turn of the New Year my mom thought it’d be good for us to get back into the faith and go to church, every Sunday.
Every. Sunday.

I walked to the car, slumped and uninterested with the thought of sitting through an hour of lecture about how wrong everything in this world is.
Sliding into the back seat, I pulled out my earphones from my pocket and put Alkaline Trio on full blast throughout the ten minute ride to Sunday Mass.

“Hurry!” I heard my mom say as I pulled out one of my earphones, “I can hear the bells ringing”
I sliding my earphones and my iPod back into my pocket I got out of the car and slowly walked behind my parents as we entered the church. The greeters smiled at us as they placidly greeted us in the vestibule. As we entered inside and found an empty space some-what near the middle we slid into the pew and genuflect as the deacon and Father Cesare entered the sanctuary. The hall was filled with dark organ music that gave me goosebumps.

“In nomine Dei, et ista est in nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti, Amen,” smiled Father Cesare as he made the Sign of the Cross and we all said in reply, “Amen.”
Through the whole service I kept wanting to fulfill the urge to shoot myself in the foot until something caught my eye. It wasn’t something though...it was someone.

Amelie’s POV

“Behave yourself, Amelie Jayne,” scowled my mother,
“What could I possibly do to cause mischief, mother dear?” I spat,
“Watch your tongue, you’re in the presence of our Father and Savior; honor thy mother and thy father,” she quoted the commandment. That was always her favorite one to throw in my face.
She always liked to throw the word ‘whore’ at me too, the only time she doesn’t let me wear long skirts is when I’m not at Mass. Other than that, I had to wear a black pencil skirt that kept my knees close together, just how she likes it. And a long black sweater to hide my tattoos.

Luckily with some persuasion she managed to let me wear a sweater that had a slight V in the front, though the V wasn’t down low enough to show off my tits.
“Now, we are in for a real treat this morning, the daughter of our most recent addition to our congregation, Mrs. Ursula Prichard, will sing for us this morning.”
That was me, “come on up Amelie,” smiled Father Cesare unenthused. I had volunteered to sing for the congregation on account that one of their usual singers had come down with mono. Probably from kissing all the communion boys behind the church.

I stood and walked up to take the mic from the organist, the podium stood before me with the sheet music. I chose a rather dark but classical piece; J.S. Bach’s Agnus Dei. I rarely looked at the sheet music because I had sang this song a hundred times over at my old church.
“Agnus dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, qui tollis peccata, peccata mundi.
Miserere nobis, miserere nobis...” and so on. I casted my eyes out of the congregation continuing to sing, opening my throat to produce the most sound for the vowels.

My eyes stopped on a boy in the mid section closest to the nave. He kept his eyes on me the whole time while everyone had their hands clasped with eyes closed in either prayer or admiration or with their noses buried in their hymn books trying to keep up with the lyrics. Staring at him made me almost lose my breath but I kept pushing my stomach in to get every last wisp of breath out for every note.

By that time the song was over and everyone stayed silent, “thank you Amelie,” said Father Cesare. I nodded my head and gave the organist back the mic. I had to go out and get some air; grabbing my coat from the pew I hastily walked down the nave and outside behind the church. I could hear the choir and the organs begin to sing again...I reached down into the front of my pencil skirt pulled out a small, silver cigarette case.

I opened it and took one out, placing it between my lips. I reached into the hem of my skirt to retrieve my lighter but...it wasn’t there. My lighter was gone!
Oh shit...it must’ve fell out when I was rushing out of there...my lighter was in there and I needed a drag. Oh God, have mercy on me. I held the cigarette shaking between my fingers and kept looking around me thinking maybe I had put it in my coat pocket or maybe it fell by the door or the stairwell leading outside.
“Excuse me…” said a deep voice from behind, “you dropped this,”