((( Zhio POV's )))
"Light yours then we'll pray."
I attempted to use it although never in my life had I held something as such. I've got a Zippo that was probably on the car so I just took one stick and stroked it against the side of the box. It didn't light up. Second one broke. Third one did too until it slowly ran out of content.
Something like that should be too easy to use then why can't I do it?
She held her stomach in laughter, "Do it gently."
I tried more gently as she instructed but still failed miserably. She held my hand and helped me lit the stick together, "Do it like this."
I tried for the last time and finally gave up, "Why is this thing so difficult to do?"
"Lighting a match takes heartfelt dedication you know," she teased again. "You're like a kid; can't even light a match."
"Shut up and just pray there," I hissed. My devilish horns were sprouting yet again.
We spent some time in silence. Her eyes where tightly closed in sincere prayer while I watched and imitated her. I clasped my hands together and closed my eyes like she did. I don't have anything to say to God but confusedly, all the wishes I longed to ask for went to mind. I was praying, for real.
When it all ended, the lonesome feeling of separation surfaced. Breathing in the cool air again, I spoke in admiration of that little place. "This chapel is beautiful…quiet. Although it looked a little haunted."
"Surely is. Didn't you know a priest hanged himself inside? Since then, this chapel has been avoided and eventually abandoned," she narrated.
"Really? Did his ghost scare them off," I thought and smiled when I noticed she was a little frightened. I suddenly remembered she was afraid of those things, "Well, restless souls becomes apparitions to scare, ask for help, or even take revenge."
I expected she'd leave first but she seemed to be staying longer. "Aren't you going home yet?"
"I'll still wait for sister Ema," she shrugged cheerfully "As long as the ghost don't show up I'll be fine. Aren't you going home?"
"You'd be left here alone if I leave. I guess I'll stay for a bit."
Her face lit up. "Thanks. What's your name?"
I was taken aback by her question. For a brief second I considered making up a name for myself. One day she'd see my face on TV or anywhere else and think I'm a liar. So amidst all uncertainty I told her, "Zhio."
"A namesake," she smiled. "With the infamously snub young billionaire."
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