Chapter IX: Prayer
The evening is calm, the sound of crickets filling the air outside Liz's window. She lies on her bed, scrolling through her phone, her laughter breaking the silence of the room. On her screen is a funny meme sent by Wyn, accompanied by a message:
"Liz, doesn't this look like the face you make when you realize there's no food left?"
Liz chuckles, her fingers quickly typing a response.
"Wyn, if there's no food left, I'd cry, not just make faces!"
They continue chatting, sharing memes and light-hearted jokes. Liz feels a sense of ease in moments like these, where she can laugh freely despite the weight of recent events.
As their conversation progresses, Wyn suddenly brings up a question that stops Liz in her tracks.
"By the way, Liz... where's Bennett now? You've never mentioned."
The question lingers in Liz's mind, tugging at her heartstrings. She stares at the screen, her fingers hesitating over the keyboard.
"Honestly, Wyn... I don't know. I wish I did."
There's a pause before Wyn replies.
"It's weird, you know? He used to send us memes all the time in the group chat. Now, it feels... empty."
Liz sighs, a bittersweet smile forming on her lips. "I know. It was like Bennett was the glue that held everything together. Even during the scariest moments, he always knew how to make us laugh."
Changing the tone, Wyn sends another message.
"Speaking of scary moments, have I told you the story about that creepy thing in school?"
Liz raises an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued.
"You mean the one about the ghost in the CR? I know it all too well, Wyn. Remember, I was there!"
Wyn sends a laughing emoji, followed by a sheepish message.
"Oh yeah! I forgot you were part of that. Refresh my memory, though. What exactly happened again?"
Liz's thoughts drift back to that unforgettable day, the memory playing vividly in her mind.
It was late afternoon, and Liz and Wyn had left their classroom together to head to the restroom. The school was eerily quiet, the hallways deserted. As they approached the restroom door, Liz felt a sudden chill, the kind that made her shiver despite the warm weather.
Inside, the fluorescent lights flickered faintly, casting long shadows across the tiled floor. Wyn was the first to notice it—a strange pair of feet visible beneath one of the cubicle doors.
"Liz, look," Wyn whispered, pointing nervously.
Liz followed Wyn's gaze, her heart skipping a beat. The feet were unlike anything she'd seen before—slender and pale, as if they belonged to an old woman. The figure wore a red, flowery dress that flowed just above the ground.
"Is someone there?" Liz called out, her voice trembling slightly.
There was no response.
The silence pressed down on them, making every creak and distant sound feel amplified. Liz grabbed Wyn's arm, her instincts screaming at her to leave.
"Let's go," Liz whispered urgently.
The two bolted from the restroom, their footsteps echoing through the hallway. As they neared their classroom, they collided with Bennett, who was standing outside his own classroom just a few doors away.
"Whoa, what's going on?" Bennett asked, steadying them both.
Liz and Wyn, panting heavily, quickly explained what they had seen. To their surprise, Bennett didn't look scared; instead, his expression hardened with determination.
"Stay close," he instructed, leading them back to the restroom.
"But, Bennett—" Liz began to protest.
"Trust me," he interrupted, his voice calm but firm.
Back at the restroom, the figure was still there, unmoving. Bennett approached the cubicle cautiously, gesturing for Liz and Wyn to stay behind him. Without hesitation, he kicked the door open.
The figure turned to face them—a slender old woman with hollow eyes, her expression blank yet haunting. She wore the same red, flowery dress, her hands clasped in front of her as if in prayer.
Liz and Wyn froze, unable to move or speak. But Bennett, unfazed, stepped forward and clasped his hands together.
"May you find peace with God, the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit," he said, his voice steady and filled with reverence.
The figure remained still for a moment, then began to fade, her form dissolving into thin air. A soft breeze passed through the room, and just like that, she was gone.
Liz and Wyn stared at Bennett, their mouths agape.
"How... how did you do that?" Wyn asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Bennett smiled, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "I've got my ways."
The three of them celebrated afterward, sharing snacks and laughter in the cafeteria, the tension from earlier fading into fond relief.
Liz shakes her head, the memory leaving her with a mixture of awe and longing.
"Wyn, remember how brave Bennett was? I still can't believe he handled it like that."
"Yeah," Wyn replies, a wistful tone in her message. "He was always so calm, even in the weirdest situations. I miss him."
Liz smiles faintly, her heart aching with the same sentiment.
Just as their conversation begins to wind down, Liz's phone buzzes with a new notification. It's a message from Bro. Padilla.
"Young servers, please be informed that there will be practice the day after tomorrow at the Colegio. Attendance is a must. God bless!"
Liz and Wyn exchange messages about the practice, their spirits lifting slightly with the promise of something to focus on.
As Liz sets her phone aside and prepares for bed, she feels a strange mix of emotions—sadness, longing, and hope. She knows Bennett may be gone, but his presence still lingers, guiding her in unexpected ways.
With a quiet prayer, she closes her eyes, ready to face whatever the days ahead may bring.
The morning sun streams through Liz's window, its golden light spilling onto her neatly made bed. With a cheerful energy, she jumps out from under the covers and immediately reaches for the framed photo on her desk—a picture of Bennett with his bright smile.
"Good morning, Bennett!" Liz whispers, planting a light kiss on the glass.
She places the photo back and quickly prepares for the day, her excitement bubbling as she heads downstairs.
In the dining area, the warm aroma of fried rice and eggs fills the air. Dolores and Dominga, her ever-lively aunts, are seated at the table, chatting animatedly. Liz joins them, her plate quickly filling with food.
"Good luck at the practice today, Liz," Dominga says with a wink, passing her a glass of orange juice.
"Make us proud!" Dolores chimes in.
Liz smiles, appreciating their encouragement. From the kitchen, her grandmother calls out,
"Liz, don't forget to thank the Lord before you start!"
"I won't, Abuelita!" Liz responds, finishing her meal quickly.
Her grandmother soon appears, ready to accompany Liz to the Colegio.
As Liz and her grandmother reach the school, the place is already abuzz with activity. Liz spots Wyn near the entrance, her friend predictably early as always.
"Wyn!" Liz calls, waving enthusiastically.
Wyn turns, grinning as she walks up to Liz. "Look who's finally on time," she teases.
"Don't start," Liz retorts with a playful nudge.
Liz's grandmother bids her good luck before heading off to run some errands. The two friends then make their way to the training venue, chatting about everything and nothing.
The training begins with Bro. Padilla addressing the group. Standing at the front, he holds a familiar object—a rosary, its beads glinting faintly under the room's fluorescent lights.
"Does anyone know what this is?" Bro. Padilla asks, raising the rosary.
As expected, the group responds in unison.
"A rosary!"
"Good," he says, his eyes scanning the room.
"And what about its functions? Can anyone tell me what the beads and the cross are for?"
The room falls silent, an awkward pause stretching as no one volunteers to answer. Liz feels her heart race. The beads of the rosary trigger a distant memory.
In her mind, Liz is transported back to a quiet evening at home. She's sitting at the dining table, her religion assignment spread out in front of her. Bennett is seated across from her, a rosary in hand as he patiently explains its significance.
"These beads," Bennett begins, holding the rosary up,
"help guide you as you pray. Each bead represents a prayer, like the Hail Mary, and the cross is where you start and finish with the sign of the cross and the Apostle's Creed."
Liz listens intently, her brow furrowing as she processes the information.
"So... it's like a prayer guide?" she asks.
"Exactly," Bennett replies with a smile.
From the living room, Dolores and Dominga overhear their conversation. They peek around the corner, teasing Liz with exaggerated whispers.
"Look at these two," Dolores says, grinning.
"Are they studying or planning a prayer marathon?"
Liz blushes, throwing a playful glare at her aunts.
"Focus on your soap opera!" she retorts.
Bennett chuckles, unfazed by the teasing.
"Ignore them, Liz. Let's finish this."
The memory fades as Liz finds herself back in the training room. Raising her hand tentatively, she begins to explain.
"The beads in the rosary guide the prayers, and each one represents something specific, like the Hail Mary or Our Father. The cross is where we begin and end, starting with the Apostle's Creed and ending with a blessing."
Bro. Padilla's face lights up with approval.
"Exactly! Well done, Liz."
Wyn leans over, whispering,
"Who knew you were a walking prayer guide? Bennett must've been a good teacher."
Liz grins but says nothing, her heart warmed by the thought.
The discussion shifts to the Divine Mercy Chaplet, the Angelus, and other basic prayers. Bro. Padilla asks questions, but Liz's mind drifts back to moments with Bennett, his calm demeanor always making lessons feel more engaging.
When Bro. Padilla poses a question about the difference between the Apostle's Creed and the Nicene Creed, Liz doesn't hesitate to answer.
"The Nicene Creed is longer and more detailed, while the Apostle's Creed is shorter and simpler," she says confidently.
"Very good!" Bro. Padilla applauds, clearly impressed.
Wyn nudges her again, whispering,
"Alright, prayer prodigy, save some answers for the rest of us!"
Liz laughs softly, feeling both proud and nostalgic.
That night, Liz lies in bed, Bennett's picture resting on her bedside table. She picks it up, her fingers tracing the edges of the frame.
"Bennett, I hope you're proud of me," she whispers. "Your lessons really stuck with me."
She sets the photo down and clasps her hands together in prayer. The words flow naturally, her heart feeling lighter with each sentence.
As she finishes, sleep overtakes her, pulling her into a vivid dream.
In her dream, Liz finds herself walking along the communion rails of the cathedral. Beside her is Bennett, his presence comforting and familiar.
"Liz," he says, his voice gentle yet firm,
"prayer isn't just about saying words. It's about connecting with God, opening your heart, and finding strength in Him."
Liz nods, absorbing his words.
"I think I'm starting to understand," she replies, her voice soft.
Bennett smiles, stopping to face her.
"Good. Always remember that prayer is your anchor, no matter where life takes you."
Overcome with emotion, Liz wraps her arms around him in a tight hug.
"Thank you, Bennett," she whispers.
The dream begins to fade, but Bennett's words linger in her mind, etched deeply into her heart.
As the first rays of sunlight break through her window, Liz wakes with a newfound sense of determination. The dream feels like a blessing, a reminder of the strength she's gained from her faith and the memories of someone who believed in her.
Smiling to herself, she begins her day, ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead.
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