My eyes slowly opened, the sun blinding my vision. There I laid, naked and alone. But something was off, something was different. Once my eyes had adjusted to the light, I looked around to find that the walls were a pale blue shade. Mine were grey. In place of the crucifix I hung up on the wall not so long ago was the picture of a me and another woman, stood on steep, grassy hills with daisy bushes behind us. We were kissing. The mere sight of it made me feel uneasy. Partially because I knew the woman. Charlene, my childhood friend. I had fallen in love with her when I was young, and she and I kissed, held hands, spent all our days together. I would pine for her like never before, and she would pine for me too. Her gorgeous brown eyes, her silky, blonde hair, everything about her was perfect. Until one day I was taken away. To go to a camp. To find God. I looked left. My heart sank as I saw the mirror.

My reflection didn’t look anything like me. It had dark, red skin and my eyes were painted black, with no visible pupils. I almost looked possessed. My chest looked huge, my legs much longer than they were before. Sharp, curved horns grew up out of my head, reaching high up into the air. The black horns gleamed in the sunlight, making them look almost liquid in texture. The figure I saw before me I could only identify as devil-like. I was terrified. “This must be my punishment.” I thought. “This is what I get for loving her.”

She walked into the room. Nothing about her seemed off. She looked at me as if my looks were ordinary, a huge smile painted on her face as she sat in my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck. I felt the guilt eat me up inside, but as I looked back in the mirror, the devil I saw was no longer there. Instead it was my normal reflection. My long, ginger hair swaying in the summer breeze, a smattering of freckles on my face. My eyes returned to their emerald green colour and I let out a sigh of relief.

“Are you okay, Tilly?” The words came out in a soft, southern accent. A sense of peace overwhelmed me at the sound of her voice, as I nuzzled into her neck. It was natural to me, even though the thought of it was the most unnatural, ungodly thing to ever be.

“Yes. Yes I am.”

Her deep, velvety eyes rested on my lips as she pulled me closer, her thin lips meeting my own, pulling them into a soft, slow dance. My heart simultaneously sank and soared at her action, as I gave myself to the love that laid in her kiss. “How could I do this?” I asked myself. “How could I betray my faith and everything I believe in for this woman?” But then she stopped. Pulled herself away from me, as she put her hand down her shirt. When it came back, a crucifix came with it, on a necklace around her neck.

“Don’t be afraid.” She whispered gently. “It’s okay.” It was in that moment that I realised the mirror was wrong the whole time. This love didn’t make me a devil. I wasn’t wrong for wanting this. This feeling was the most beautiful feeling I had ever experienced in my entire existence. She was everything I wanted, my whole world was filled with her and her body, her soul, her spirit.

“I lost my mind trying to deny such an integral part of who I am. Now I’m trying to make up for it but the guilt is still there, gnawing away at me like a hungry child.”

Her eyes softened as she kissed my forehead, her hands falling to my hips. “You found God, didn’t you?”

“I don’t think I did.” I bit my lip.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t think the God I knew is the true God.”

She replied with words I had forced myself never to think, “What if all He wanted was your heart?”

I shook my head, clinging on to the last bit of resolve I had. “I can’t-“

“You can.” She spoke firmly. “Because when you kissed me, you felt it.”

“Felt what?”

“The Holy Spirit.”

A sudden onslaught of tears streamed down my pale, white face , turning me into a crying mess. She held me close as I laid down next to her, resting my head on her chest. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

“No it’s not! I’m sick! I’m sick of being sick!”

“No, you’re different. Different, not sick.” She replied, stroking my hair gently, wiping my tears with her other hand.

“I don’t know who I am anymore.” I croaked.

“I do.” She whispered. “You’re the girl who used to run through the daisy fields with me. The girl with the orange hair and the freckles. You’re the girl that I fell in love with.”

I felt a stab of pain at the word ‘love.’ But it was only because I was beginning to realise that I was so wrong. I was wrong for running. I was wrong for believing what they told me. I was wrong for denying myself the chance to love this sweet, kind, funny girl who cradled me close.

“I’m scared. So scared.” I admitted.

“Why?”

“I’m scared to go to hell.”

A sigh came from her, her hot breath on my forehead.

“God never said that it was a sin.”

“Yes but-“

“No buts.” She interrupted. “You were told the answer you want to hear. You were fed on lies, since your birth, and now you’re terrified. That’s only natural, baby.”

I sat in silence, taking her words in. Absorbing them. I wanted to believe that she was right, but doubt still lingered in my heart. Doubt cast by the people who’d raised me. The church. The world. This thought made me curl closer to her, feeling her body beat against my bare skin.

“Just don’t think.” She said. “Don’t think about anything except who you are and how you feel when you’re around me.”

I did think. I thought long and I thought hard. The sound of her heart beating filled my ears. I knew that when I was around her I felt so much more alive, I felt so much more like myself and that I was free. This new feeling was more than I could comprehend. And no matter what anybody else had to say, I felt holy. Her lips connected with my forehead, slowly moving down until they pressed softly onto my own. Every single cell in my body felt electrified, my head spinning as I allowed myself to fall, allowed myself to breathe, allowed myself to relax in her arms. I drowned in her loving touch. She tasted like freedom, liberty, peace, love. And as my hands found their way up her torso, we toppled over onto the bed, our limbs intertwining, fingers grasping. It was beautiful. It was wrong. And God, it was glorious.

And afterwards, when I looked in the mirror, I didn’t see a demon. I saw a girl. A girl with red hair and freckled cheeks smiling back at me, and a girl with brown eyes and blonde hair kiss my neck.

I saw home.

I woke up in my bed, all alone, with the grey walls and the crucifix hanging near the window. And that’s when I dialled her number.