Becky
Becky was crying as she shelled her sweet green peas. SHe was beginning to wish he had never come to the school, maybe then she wouldn't be such a dirty, sinful person.
Elisha was gone. Martha was missing, and now, these dreams. Becky shuddered. She was a good girl, she was a good Christian, so why was she having these feelings? These desires? Such. . . impure thoughts. . . about other girls?
"Dirty, dirty, dirty," she sobbed as she shelled the peas into a bowl and threw the pods into a bowl for composting. "You're going to go straight to hell." Becky wiped away the tears with the back of her hand, but they kept flowing.
Sergei
Sergei wandered in, as usual a bottle of something or other alcholic in his hand. He swigged back from it, and then sat on a bench near Becky, kicking his legs idly. He tilted his head slightly, indigosilver eyes gleaming. "Zehshchrabstehbehchltehe, kratkoya. Vhat is vrong?" (Hello, beautiful.) He sighed slightly as she didn't answer. "Yes, I know. I look like a demon. But howeverrr, I am not. But dank you for rrreminding me vhy I don't start converrrsations." He started to get up.
Becky
"No, I'm sorry, it's just, there's so uch, and I don't think I can handle it anymore," Becky said, continuing to shell the peas.
Sergei
"Life is like dat," Sergei commented, settling back down. "Trrry being a labrrrat for two years. Two godforsaken years!" He would've spat in disgust if he'd been outside. "Vhat's your problem?" He tilted his head back and drank some vodka.
Becky
"I'm bad," Becky said. She finished with her peas, and then switched to peeling and ending carrots.
"I'm such a bad girl. I'm AMISH, for goodness sakes. I was raised to be a good plain person. Not to have desires of the flesh. And now I'm having these dreams, and they're just so dirty. I'm so dirty!" she wept.
Sergei
"Me, I'm an aethist. I dink dat religion is a load of der'mo." (Shit.) Sergei eyed the weeping girl. "Vhat's wrong with dreams?"
Becky
"They're bad. They're like thoughts. Even to think about sinning is to sin itself. God's gonna punish me!"
Sergei
"Pffffft." Sergei dismissed it. "I have cursed God more times then you would know, and I steadfastly deny His existence. If anyone's going to hell, it's me." He grinned. "Choose a different god. I'm sure they're not all gonna punish you, for whatever it is you've done so wrong." He kicked his legs. "If thoughts are as bad as the deed, then I'm a murderer several hundred times over."
Becky
"The Amish are pacifists. We do not think of violence, and we do not think impure thoughts. It is forbidden, and it is sinful. And I am a dirty bad girl. Girls aren't supposed to look at girls like that. . . " Becky clamped her hand over her mouth. She hadn't meant to say it out loud.
Sergei
"Ah." Sergei raised his eyebrows slightly. "And da problem vould be vhat? Let me tell you something. I have seen evil. Lived among it for two years. Bad horrible nasty people. You aren't dirty, kratkoya. Besides, girls are pretty to look at." He grinned.