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The Black Veil Bride To Be

Drunken Angel

Andy’s POV

Upon closing the coffin door, I felt as if the thugs would be able to hear the pounding of my heart. I held my breathe to make it slow but nothing could work. Amelie and I wrapped ourselves in one another to make us fit snuggly in the coffin. Her arms were around me, I could feel her fingers trembling on my shoulders and my arms were shaking around her waist.

She laid there with her face on my chest. As odd as this was, I was enjoying her being near me.
Amelie jolted in my arms at the sound of the door being kicked open, I placed my hand over her mouth gently to keep her from shrieking, I mouthed, “it’s okay,” and kept looking into her eyes.
“Search the room,” the ringleader commenced,
“I don’t know about this, Mikey,” said another voice, “this place is sacred; do NOT disturb the dead,”
“Raul, you over-religious pussy, shut up and look everywhere!” I could hear them looking all over, and the squeaky hinges of the doors on the body fridge.
“They’re not here, Mikey,” said another voice,
“Yeah, let’s beat it, this place is giving me the creeps!”
“Fine,” the supposed ‘Mikey’ growled, “if I ever see those brats again, I’ll…”
The door closed behind them; we waited a few extra minutes just to be sure that they were gone before getting out of the coffin.

“Woo,” said Amelie, “they nearly got us,”
“Yeah,”
“You okay?” she asked softly grabbing my face, “you look pale,”
“After that, I’m surprised I’m not dead,”
“I know what you need,” she gleamed,
“What? A defibrillator?” I smirked sarcastically,
“Some of Ol’ Cesare’s best communion wine to bring some color back into your cheeks,”
Liquor sounded nice after almost being beaten to a pulp by illustrious gang members; slipping out of the coffin we walked back upstairs into the church hall.

“Where would they keep the wine?” I asked approaching the sanctuary, it was dark except for a red backlight glowing underneath the giant stain glass window of Jesus being crucified. Amelie looked on the table where the chalices sat and found a box of extra long matches, “here,” she tossed them to me, “light up some candles, I don’t wanna be the only one lit in this church,” I began lighting some candles but just enough so we can see.

“The wine,” she said talking to herself, “should be in… the secret compartment in the…” from behind the pulpit she found a hole in the back behind the Sunday service Bible and pulled it out, “Pulpit!” she exclaimed happily, pulling out two bottles of wine.
“I have the chalices!” I said some-what enthused, trying to make it seem like me bringing forth the drink-ware was some-what important.

She popped open one of the bottles and poured her glass almost to the brim and gave me a half full glass.I had never had wine before, only liquor and beer but never wine. That shit was too fancy.
“What an adventure,” she chuckled,
“Yeah,”
“What’s on your mind?”
“Nothing,” I said defensively,
“Just asking because...the quietest of people usually have the loudest thoughts,” she smiled at me, “c’mon Andy, tell me,”
“Well,” I began, “don’t you think it’s odd that we run into trouble and then once we come to this church we’re saved?”
“Pure coincidence,”
“This can’t be pure coincidence, Amelie,”
“We’re in the House of God,” she said standing up with the chalice of wine between her fingers, “we run into conflict and what? Just because we enter this ‘sacred’ compound we’re supposedly saved from our imminent death? I tell you it’s coincidence!”
“I don’t know what to believe,” I replied taking a sip of the wine,
“What does your heart say?”
“What?” I gawked,
“Your heart, what does it say?” she asked, I sat there thinking for a moment.
“I don’t know,” I sighed; she wrapped one of her arms around me and leaned in closely, I could smell the wine on her breath,
“Andy,” she smiled like a colicy baby, “there’s nothing wrong with thinking for yourself and finding your own beliefs but sometimes, you have to think with your heart and not your head,” she took another sip of her wine, “your head keeps your from getting killed but your heart tells you what’s worth dying for,”
She made sense for being some-what tipsy.

“What does your heart tell you?” I asked her,
“Well,” she slurred a bit, “my heart tells me I need more wine,” she tried to stand up to retrieve the bottle but I firmly sat her down beside me in the pew.
“No, seriously,”
“You really want to know?” she asked; I nodded my head.
“My heart tells me just don’t fuck up,” she ran her hand through her hair to brush the stray strands back, “my mom has always looked down upon me for not being the perfect angel, literally; she wanted to name Theresa after the Saint of Children but...she took one look at me and named me Amelie,”
“Why?” I asked,
“Amelie means hard-working. Industrious. Striving. I’m always wanting more, to be better than the day before,” she lulled her head and set down the chalice at her feet before glancing up at the stain glass window, “I use to have such a close relationship with God, until I started to think for myself...my mother didn’t like that and she told me neither did God, but what was I suppose to do? Be a zombie disciple to the Messiah for the rest of my life?”
“My mom made a New Years resolution for us get more intuitive with our faith so instead of just going to Mass on holidays, we go on Sunday’s like every other family,” I said, “it really sucks but if it makes my mom happy, why complain?”
“You can’t please your parents forever, Andy,”
“I know,” I replied taking my last sip of the “Blood of Christ.”

Amelie’s POV

My mind was blurred, all I knew is I was with Andy. Four glasses of wine was all it took for me to start seeing double, “Amelie,” Andy’s voice called, “you going to be okay?”
“Yeah,” I slurred, “I’m f-fine,”
“I think it’s time for you to get home, it’s almost nine o’clock,” I felt his arms wrap around me to help me stand, “do you remember where you live?” Of course I did, I just couldn’t figure it where I lived, I lulled into his arms and held onto him before he yanked me off his chest and shook me a little, “Amelie, concentrate! Where do you live?”
“Golly, I don’t remember,”
“Great,” he sighed, “I guess I’ll just let you stay over at my place till you’re sober,”
“Hooray! Sleep over!” I chimed,
“But you have to be quiet,”
“Aye, aye captain!” I hiccuped.
“Maybe some cold air will help you snap back,” I sat slantly on the pew as Andy put the wine bottles back and blew out the candles before standing me up to leave the building,
“We’ll have to sneak out the front, there’s no way we can get you over that fence in your condition,”

“Okie dokie smokie!” I laughed; all the moments that passed were a complete blur. I just remember the feeling of having cool air hit my face and everything seemed to not be so spinny in my vision. I felt tired, like I was starting to sober up but my body didn’t want to function, “Andy!” I gasped as my knees gave out, “Woah, I got you,” he held me close to his chest, “it’s okay,” he smiled, “we’re not too far from my place now,” he scooped me up bridal style and carried me the rest of the way to his house, once inside the immense warmth of the house was enough to lull my brain into a sweet comatose.