Clean

Despite standing at a spot a distance away from the mystifying occurrence taking place in her room, Miranda still took unconscious steps back until she hit an obstruction.

Her widened eyes continued to stare at the book for a while after the formation process was over. Although the complete book was now resting on the table, it didn't stop glowing immediately.

Befuddled, Miranda's eyes moved to the door. She thought of going to call her father and mother to come and witness what was going on in her room. But as she took the first sideways step, she paused.

What was she thinking? If she alerted them, wouldn't that give them more reasons to believe she was the child of the devil? She was in enough trouble already as it stands, and this doesn't look like a normal phenomenon.

Dropping that idea, she instead moved to draw the curtains and locked the door to avoid anyone walking in unannounced.

Curious as she was, she made no attempt whatsoever to approach the book even after ensuring there would be no sudden barging into her room. She just stood in a spot, watching with so many questions floating in her head.

A short while later, the glow began to dim, slowly but surely, until the light went out completely, bringing the book back to the ordinary state she initially knew it to be.

Miranda still didn't move. What the hell just happened? First, it was writings no one else could see. Now, the same book just materialized from wherever… and how the hell does a book glow? Were her parents perhaps right about something not being right with her? Was she truly evil? But she didn't feel evil.

These thoughts flooded Miranda's head so much that she didn't realize how long she stood in that same spot.

It was not until the startling sound of her door handle being twisted echoed and jolted her out of her thoughts that she moved.

"Open the door, Miranda." She heard her father's voice from outside her door, and immediately started walking in that direction with the intention of letting the man in.

But she halted halfway, recalling that the book was still on the table and there wasn't supposed to be a single book left in her room.

So she changed direction, moving as fast as she could toward the table and grabbing the book, completely forgetting, due to the current distress, that she was trying to stay away from it moments ago.

Her eyes darted around, looking for the perfect hiding spot when she heard her mother's irritated voice.

"What is wrong with this girl? Miranda! Open this door right now."

At that, Miranda picked up one of her shirts lying on the floor and used it to loosely wrap the book before throwing it under the bed.

She moved to open the door, preparing herself in the process for some hits from the woman or in the least some serious scolding.

But she got neither of those. Instead, she received a dagger-sharp glare from her mother, who walked in first, and a complicated look from her father who walked in next.

She didn't have to wonder what was going on for long because her father ushered in the third person after he entered — a priest in a black cassock, having with him a cross and a bottle which she wasn't sure what its content was.

Miranda took backward steps to give them room to stand without cramping themselves up.

All the while, her eyes were set on the priest, and she noticed how his brows furrowed ever so slightly after he took the first step into the room. He hesitated for a moment before fully stepping in and looking around.

That single moment of hesitation had Miranda's heartbeat doing double time, wondering if he had somehow caught on to something strange in the room.

"Father Jonah, this is our daughter, Miranda." Her father introduced, pointing toward her direction.

"Hello, Miranda, how are you doing today?" Father Jonah asked with a warm smile on his face, keeping his scrutinizing gaze on her.

"I'm fine, father. Good evening." Miranda responded to him, also not letting her eyes veer away from him. He did physically look like he wanted to cast out some devils from inside of her. But his face and expression spoke otherwise.

"That's great. Can I see your hand, Miranda? Your right palm." Father Jonah requested, and although Miranda frowned at the request, she still extended her hand, opening her right palm to him.

Father Jonah scrutinized her palm for a while, before nodding his head and extending his right palm. "Can you place your hand on mine?" He threw another request, and Miranda did as he asked.

Immediately their hands touched, the priest began to utter some prayers, some in a language she didn't understand and some she heard and understood clearly.

Miranda expected a reaction, mostly from herself since she was the one suspected of being possessed by the devil. And after the incident with the book, she wasn't so sure she was innocent of the accusation anymore. She expected to have been thrown against the wall as she knew evil spirits to behave when they are being cast out, or to, at least, feel some kind of repulsion toward the one holding her hand.

But nothing like that happened.

Father Jonah ended the prayer and disconnected their hands. He flashed her a smile before reaching for the cross, which was in his other hand.

"The most high bless you and keep you, my child. You will find what you seek, and may you fulfill your destiny. Amen." He prayed while moving the wooden symbol vertically and horizontally in front of her. Once he was done, he wished her a good night, then turned to her parents. "I'd like to speak with you two outside."

The two of them complied, walking outside with the priest.

It was not until they had stepped outside the house, right on the porch, did the priest uttered a word.

"Your daughter is clean. She is not possessed by the devil. Matter of fact, you two owe her an apology." The priest announced, throwing Miranda's parents into a web of puzzlement.