I don't.

"Look, this is nuts," I said as I wiped the blood off my chest and stopped Father Shawn from splashing more blood on my body and drawing. I slap his hand away and swing off the table. I look at everyone, and the men don't move; they are stunned that I have stopped the ritual.

"You're backing out now? But the spell is incomplete." Father Sam groans, his voice eeking with fear.

"I don't care," I said as I started to run.

"Wait!" Father Sam cries, his hand outstretched towards me.

I cover my groin as I run back inside. Sliding the glass door shut, I run back to the lockers in the far room, throwing mine open and grabbing my clothes. I run for the door, tripping as I drop a shoe. I pick it up, looking at Jacob, who knocks on the glass door. Trying to shout at me to come back.

I fumble with the doorknob as I open it and walk through the door. I put on my boxers and clothes as I continue to walk away, fumbling as I do. I walk along the sidewalk toward the bus stop that will take me back to the city.

Relief washed over me to be away from that group and whatever crazy thing they had ready for me. Maybe I'd be dead right now. But something deep inside itches at you. Perhaps it was all in fun?

I lived the rest of my life, always wondering what would have happened but never daring to return. It's an everyday, boring life.