The Peeking Eyes

The prayer hall was a different realm from the perspicuous convent. Instead of rustic oaks and bronze detailing, the inside of the hall was filled with abounding sandalwoods and golds. But the absolute treasure within the interior was the renaissance fresco that stretched from the nave up to the high altar.

     The ceiling was brimming with images of little angels and doves, across a dawning sky. All of them seemed alive, and as if had an affair of their own. Some angels were playing, there were some that appeared to be dancing, and funnily, a few were soundly sleeping.

     It still looked crisp and pristine, even though it was the same age as the entirety of the abbey, and the daylight passing through the stained-glass windows further complimented it.

     I was admiring its craftsmanship, and forgot to mouthed the words of the occurring prayer. Because of my mindlessness, a sister elbowed me, and I noticed why. Sister Rene was eyeing me from the high altar. She was on an elevated platform and it made her view of me evident. 

     And so, I continued fake praying, “Bless us with your selfless hands as we all embark today’s journey. Give us courage, give us peace, as we start it with your unending grace…”

     Every morning, all of the sisters were singing prayers about our daily journey. But there was actually none for all was constant in this convent. Every day was just a reflection of yesterdays. Same prayers, same chores, and same people. it only broke when the knights arrived.

      Maybe the prayer was really a plea for help, or a warning to us sisters about the daunting darkness the visitors would unfold. But the knights selflessly joined us on our morning prayer, and as Mother Renata said, it was an indication of respect. Or are they just pretending?

     I looked at knights with my peripheral vision. They were at the rear part of the other side of the nave. Some of them were crowdedly sitting and some were standing, including their sovereign, because of the lack of pew. But in spite of it, they were in silence, and sincerely paying attention, unlike me.

     I always situated myself at the back of the line for I mostly dozed off in the middle of the prayer. And sometimes, my mind was elsewhere that no songs would enter my ears, and the only voice I would hear was Mother Renata’s ending the invocation. It happened before, twice or thrice, or maybe more, and that was why there were lurking eyes guarding me. 

     And now, I had an occurring battle with yawns, again. It was hard at first, but I did master it over time. Just like how I mastered the knowledge of feeling of being stared at.

     It was going on for quite some time now, and it kept pricking me. It has to end, and so, I purposely let go of my holy book. It sounded as it met the wooden floor, and the prayers were loud enough to subdue it so no one noticed, but the sisters beside me.

     I crouched, pretending that I was retrieving it. And the moment I turned my head to see the creep starer, I met a familiar face.

     It was the boy named Gabriel. He was at the opposite lane of our seat and was also crouched, holding a holy book on his left hand. His electric eyes were fixed on me. It was apparent that he was mirroring my actions and the only difference was the smile.

     He bowed his head and mouthed something, but I did not read it for he was distance away, “What?” I mouthed.

     And then he comically curtsied with his head and the hand holding the book, and it dawned on me.

     Your majesty.

     If eyes could really throw daggers, he would be crippled with plenty now. And I would keep going, more and more, and some more, until I bury him on a mountain of knives, just to never see his teasing face again.

     However, the boy just raised his brow, daring me to fight back. But how could I, if I was surround by praying sisters inside of a holy hall. So instead, I ignored him, and sat straightly again. Pay attention, Tilly, I said to myself. But I could still see him on my peripheral vision, and I perceived an image of him that was continuously mocking me.

     There were hundred voices telling me to stop, reminding me about the observing eyes of Sister Rene, and commanding me to listen to the pious prayers. But the only voice urging me to wrangle him reverberated a loud. I had to do it.

     I courageously leaned my body forward, as if stretching my upper body from overly sitting, and then slowly, I turned my head at his direction. I grinned with my wickedest smile, and he was delighted.

     When I noticed that no one was looking, including Sister Rene, I crawled out my arms slyly, resting it at the side of my lap, and across him. And then I let my middle finger arise.       

     It took him a few to notice, but when he did, he heaved a quick restrained laugh. It was sufficiently audible and it ceased the prayers for a little while, but no one saw who the laugher was, and so the singing continued. 

     The boy had his face changed, mimicking their sovereign’s in an instant. But his shoulders were slightly moving up and down, and it seemed to me that he was still restraining his laughs.

     And I’m starting to imitate him less the restrained, and so I received another elbow from the same sister. I knew what it meant. Hence it was time for me to copied the knight’s sovereign’s face. I narrowed my eyes, I Swept my smile, and I copied their singing mouths. It was the perfect praying face, for even the cynical sister believed it.

     I kept the face until Mother Renata finally ended the prayer session. It was only a few minutes after the laughs, but it felt like hours to me. Everyone started leaving their places, exiting the hall. But I stayed a little longer to wait for Hana, who was still at the choir space, and the girls, that were forced to sat in front.

     The knights all fled too, but there was still a shadow that decided to stay. The troublesome Gabriel was still sitting on his place, and his leg was comfortably on top of the other while his fingers were playing keys on it.

    And then one by one, the remaining sisters around me left too, leaving Gabriel and I only at the back. When he will go? Is he waiting for someone? Or is he planning to stay a little longer to goof?

     But neither. The wooden pew creaked, and the tapping sound of his fingers was changed into footsteps that were slowly closing towards my ear. Is he heading my way? But the sound faded as Hana and the girls towered my sitting body.

     “Let’s go?” Hana offered.

    My eyes stayed on their side of the nave which was now empty. I looked for him around, but he was really gone.

     “Are you looking for someone?” 

     “No, no. I was just checking if everyone’s here.”

     Abigail raised her hand and her voice, “I am here.”

     I ignored her, and stood from the pew. Edith’s hand found its way to mine. She was heavy-eyed, Agnes and Fatma were the same. I imagined their torture for staying awake the whole time. 

     Thus, I asked, “Let’s go?” 

     Edith and I walked alongside the others, out of the holy hall. We were the last one to leave the place. But as I pushed the heavy doors of the prayer hall, he was back again on his seat.