no-right-to-shoes
Assistant executioner
I've never written a crucifixion story before, so I'm excited to see how this one goes! 
It's partially inspired by Renaissance Faire fundraising and a bit by Eulalia's wonderful translation of The Girl With No Name.
This happened when I was about 19 years old, at the end of my first year of University. Back then I was pretty shy, having mostly spent my time there buried in books and not making many friends or going to parties. Sure, I got asked out by a lot of guys, but I would always reject their advances, saying that I came there to study.
Sometime around April, I realized that had to change. I wasn't much into the whole drinking and clubbing scene, but I had to get out there and start meeting people, otherwise my time there would just pass unnoticed.
I started volunteering at a local church. I'm not really religious and didn't attend many services but I loved the sense of community and how we'd get together to do some good for the local area. We'd do a bit work with homeless people, organize events (I got in just in time to help out with the Easter Egg hunt!), even went on a trip together.
That June, shortly after my exams ended, the church was having a garden party on its grounds to celebrate the end of term and the beginning of summer. Of course, the Chaplain wanted to use this opportunity for the benefit of the church, but you know students. You can attract them with free food, but you're not going to keep them. Or get their money.
Those were the thoughts that went through my mind as I stared at a whiteboard that said "Total raised: £12". See, for my knowledge of accounting I got assigned to the "fundraising team". Being a building that was older than some countries, the church needed constant repairs and maintenance.
Which, to me, meant that I had to sit there, behind a table, on this beautiful Saturday afternoon, in the summer heat, at a table with a collections box and try to make eye contact with people walking by to get them to donate some money. Very futile, given that everyone in attendance seemed to either be students, lecturers or pensioners.
But Magda made it all worth it. I had a girl crush on her ever since I joined the church. Hailing from Poland, she was one year and a few inches above me. Slightly on the heavier side (she played rugby), but very, very beautiful. Her dark hair was covering most of her face as she sat there, scrolling through something on her laptop, fist under her cheek, looking utterly bored.
We were pretty bad fundraisers.
She sighed, turned her head and looked at me. We knew each other well enough already, but this must have been the first time we were truly one-on-one.
I held her gaze for a bit, feeling my heart speeding up. After what felt like minutes, I averted it, then looked at the whiteboard. She looked at it as well.
"It's not going up, huh?" she said.
"Nope."
Magda closed her laptop and looked around. "Look at them. We could have been there, chatting with people, eating ice cream. Instead, we're stuck here. Hey! Excuse me! Are you interested in donating to the church?" she addressed a passing student that was munching on a (free! provided by us!) sandwich. He quickly looked at his feet, murmured something and walked past.
"Well, the Chaplain can't say we didn't try", Magda said. I giggled.
"Hey you! If you don't donate, we'll crucify you!" she yelled at another student.
My heart sank. "Goodness, Magda!" I said, shocked. "Not like this!" She had no filter.
"What? They're all pretending they can't hear us. We can say whatever we want. Look." She took a deep breath and looked at another victim.
"Magda, please!"
She laughed. "OK, OK. No crucifixions. I think this pile of garbage will fall apart as soon as someone blows on it anyway".
She was, of course, talking about an old crucifix that stood by one of the walls a few feet away from us. It was very crude, just a wooden log dug into the ground with a bar tied across it. But it was a very weird place for it to be. I can't say I was indifferent to it. In fact, every t...
"Why are you looking at it like that?" Magda asked me.
"Just... just wondering what's it doing here." I replied.
"Uh... it's a church? Do you know Jesus? If you donate to the church, we will teach you all about him and..."
"No, no, not like this. I mean, shouldn't it be inside the church? And much better decorated?"
"It's a good question." Magda got up and walked towards the cross, touching it with her hand. She grabbed it and shook it a bit. "You know something? I take it back. It is pretty sturdy. You're right, it is weird. Maybe we should crucify some students on it. I bet that's what it's for".
I laughed nervously. "I don't think they would agree to that."
"Hmm, yeah. You're right." Magda walked back towards the table. Then, she looked at me once again. With a devious smile that made my heart stop.
Oh no.
"Oh yes," she said. She grabbed a pen and started writing on the whiteboard.
"M... Magda? What are you doing? That's blasphemy! We can't do that!"
"Why not?" she said nonchalantly. "It's for charity. You wouldn't want to miss the opportunity to help your church, would you?"
"Well, yes, b-but... this... this... is just..." I was so shocked, I had difficulty picking words. A combination of disbelief, anger at her treating this like a game, but at the same time...
There was a reason I got drawn to volunteering at a church. Ever since I learned a bit about history, I've had a morbid fascination with crucifixions. Thanks to Christianity, this brutal method of execution turned into a symbol that has survived the years, a constant reminder of it in every church. I was ashamed to admit it but...
...Being crucified was a fantasy of mine.
And somehow Magda saw right through it. Or she lucked out. Either way, this was a weird situation to be in.
"Buhbuhbuh thththth" she mocked me. "So not £200? £300? Come on, it'll be fun. Give you something to get excited about. Besides, we've been here for three hours and raised £12. The party ends in another four. We won't reach it but we might get some more cash."
"Umm..." I still was at a loss for words. I was staring at the cross. What was I getting myself into?
"Excuse me", I was interrupted. "Is this real?" I looked up and saw a man in his early twenties looking at the whiteboard.
"Very real", Magda said. "This here is Daniella and she's going up on the cross. All you need to do is donate for the repairs for church. It's for a good cause."
Goddammit! I looked at Magda angrily. She didn't look back, instead looking at the guy with a now not-devious-at-all smile.
The guy looked at me. I couldn't look in his eyes, instead staring down at the ground.
"Sure! That sounds fun. I'll donate to that." He gave Magda a bank note. Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable.
"Thank you very much!" Magda said. She dropped the cash off, got up and updated the total.
The girl walked towards me and ran her fingers through my hair. That was the first time she ever touched me and it felt like a jolt of electricity. I looked up at her meekly.
"This is going to be great", she said.
It's partially inspired by Renaissance Faire fundraising and a bit by Eulalia's wonderful translation of The Girl With No Name.
Chapter 1/5
This happened when I was about 19 years old, at the end of my first year of University. Back then I was pretty shy, having mostly spent my time there buried in books and not making many friends or going to parties. Sure, I got asked out by a lot of guys, but I would always reject their advances, saying that I came there to study.
Sometime around April, I realized that had to change. I wasn't much into the whole drinking and clubbing scene, but I had to get out there and start meeting people, otherwise my time there would just pass unnoticed.
I started volunteering at a local church. I'm not really religious and didn't attend many services but I loved the sense of community and how we'd get together to do some good for the local area. We'd do a bit work with homeless people, organize events (I got in just in time to help out with the Easter Egg hunt!), even went on a trip together.
That June, shortly after my exams ended, the church was having a garden party on its grounds to celebrate the end of term and the beginning of summer. Of course, the Chaplain wanted to use this opportunity for the benefit of the church, but you know students. You can attract them with free food, but you're not going to keep them. Or get their money.
Those were the thoughts that went through my mind as I stared at a whiteboard that said "Total raised: £12". See, for my knowledge of accounting I got assigned to the "fundraising team". Being a building that was older than some countries, the church needed constant repairs and maintenance.
Which, to me, meant that I had to sit there, behind a table, on this beautiful Saturday afternoon, in the summer heat, at a table with a collections box and try to make eye contact with people walking by to get them to donate some money. Very futile, given that everyone in attendance seemed to either be students, lecturers or pensioners.
But Magda made it all worth it. I had a girl crush on her ever since I joined the church. Hailing from Poland, she was one year and a few inches above me. Slightly on the heavier side (she played rugby), but very, very beautiful. Her dark hair was covering most of her face as she sat there, scrolling through something on her laptop, fist under her cheek, looking utterly bored.
We were pretty bad fundraisers.
She sighed, turned her head and looked at me. We knew each other well enough already, but this must have been the first time we were truly one-on-one.
I held her gaze for a bit, feeling my heart speeding up. After what felt like minutes, I averted it, then looked at the whiteboard. She looked at it as well.
"It's not going up, huh?" she said.
"Nope."
Magda closed her laptop and looked around. "Look at them. We could have been there, chatting with people, eating ice cream. Instead, we're stuck here. Hey! Excuse me! Are you interested in donating to the church?" she addressed a passing student that was munching on a (free! provided by us!) sandwich. He quickly looked at his feet, murmured something and walked past.
"Well, the Chaplain can't say we didn't try", Magda said. I giggled.
"Hey you! If you don't donate, we'll crucify you!" she yelled at another student.
My heart sank. "Goodness, Magda!" I said, shocked. "Not like this!" She had no filter.
"What? They're all pretending they can't hear us. We can say whatever we want. Look." She took a deep breath and looked at another victim.
"Magda, please!"
She laughed. "OK, OK. No crucifixions. I think this pile of garbage will fall apart as soon as someone blows on it anyway".
She was, of course, talking about an old crucifix that stood by one of the walls a few feet away from us. It was very crude, just a wooden log dug into the ground with a bar tied across it. But it was a very weird place for it to be. I can't say I was indifferent to it. In fact, every t...
"Why are you looking at it like that?" Magda asked me.
"Just... just wondering what's it doing here." I replied.
"Uh... it's a church? Do you know Jesus? If you donate to the church, we will teach you all about him and..."
"No, no, not like this. I mean, shouldn't it be inside the church? And much better decorated?"
"It's a good question." Magda got up and walked towards the cross, touching it with her hand. She grabbed it and shook it a bit. "You know something? I take it back. It is pretty sturdy. You're right, it is weird. Maybe we should crucify some students on it. I bet that's what it's for".
I laughed nervously. "I don't think they would agree to that."
"Hmm, yeah. You're right." Magda walked back towards the table. Then, she looked at me once again. With a devious smile that made my heart stop.
Oh no.
"Oh yes," she said. She grabbed a pen and started writing on the whiteboard.
"M... Magda? What are you doing? That's blasphemy! We can't do that!"
"Why not?" she said nonchalantly. "It's for charity. You wouldn't want to miss the opportunity to help your church, would you?"
"Well, yes, b-but... this... this... is just..." I was so shocked, I had difficulty picking words. A combination of disbelief, anger at her treating this like a game, but at the same time...
There was a reason I got drawn to volunteering at a church. Ever since I learned a bit about history, I've had a morbid fascination with crucifixions. Thanks to Christianity, this brutal method of execution turned into a symbol that has survived the years, a constant reminder of it in every church. I was ashamed to admit it but...
...Being crucified was a fantasy of mine.
And somehow Magda saw right through it. Or she lucked out. Either way, this was a weird situation to be in.
"Buhbuhbuh thththth" she mocked me. "So not £200? £300? Come on, it'll be fun. Give you something to get excited about. Besides, we've been here for three hours and raised £12. The party ends in another four. We won't reach it but we might get some more cash."
"Umm..." I still was at a loss for words. I was staring at the cross. What was I getting myself into?
"Excuse me", I was interrupted. "Is this real?" I looked up and saw a man in his early twenties looking at the whiteboard.
"Very real", Magda said. "This here is Daniella and she's going up on the cross. All you need to do is donate for the repairs for church. It's for a good cause."
Goddammit! I looked at Magda angrily. She didn't look back, instead looking at the guy with a now not-devious-at-all smile.
The guy looked at me. I couldn't look in his eyes, instead staring down at the ground.
"Sure! That sounds fun. I'll donate to that." He gave Magda a bank note. Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable.
"Thank you very much!" Magda said. She dropped the cash off, got up and updated the total.
The girl walked towards me and ran her fingers through my hair. That was the first time she ever touched me and it felt like a jolt of electricity. I looked up at her meekly.
"This is going to be great", she said.
