St. Louis. Missouri.

I put a spell on you, because you are mine.

You were tired of your rich parents playing good and obedient citizens. On weekdays, Daddy cuts the salaries of employees, and on weekends you pray in church and make generous donations to atone for sins and get rid of feelings of guilt. And in general, you've never considered yourself a religious person. You were just successfully maintaining the image of the family.

But one day my mother came after meeting with her "faithful" friends, who told her about the new priest, about whom the whole parish is talking. You just rolled your eyes at the way your mom chattered incessantly about getting to know him better. Yeah, ego-boosting was her favorite thing to do.

And so, you're standing in a church on another day off. The colored highlights of the stained glass windows are applied to the floor. The silence is like in a crypt, my God. You wore a black knitted dress with long sleeves and a white collar that accentuated your delicate, thin body. You're wearing black nylon tights. Not a prude, but not a good girl either.

You've never been able to describe yourself as someone who is easily dominated. But when you saw Mr. Winter's piercing blue eyes, you felt like you were under a spell. While Mommy and daddy were chatting merrily, the new priest looked so uninterested that it made you smile. He didn't care so much about the church's monetary donations that he almost rolled his eyes.

"Well, actually, it would be better if more time was devoted to Sunday School. I'm going to teach Latin there." He said boringly as he looked around at your family.

You almost lost your breath. Oh my God. Yes.

Then you saw Mr. Winter look at you, as if trying to figure you out.

"Oh, I think I've heard of you. I talked to the previous teacher, he said that you were the best in the class." He said, still emotionless.