“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.” Sophia was sitting in the confessional booth, staring at the blurry features of a man, sitting behind the latticed window. Her hands were shaking, and her heart was beating uncontrollably fast. She took a few more gasps of air, before continuing. “I have done something horrible….” she said. Her voice was trembling, as if on the edge of crying. A single tear was falling down on her livid face, shining in the dim light.
The room was dimly lit, making it seem very peaceful. People often came here to find solace and forgiveness, and he was the one give it to them. He used to think of himself as God`s mouth, and that the words that came out of him was not entirely his alone. He was wearing a collar as white as the skin of an albino, and the rest of his suit was shaped as a long cloak, colored in a shade of black. He squinted at the latticed window, trying to see who sat behind it, but to no good. It was there for a reason, he reminded himself.
“Go on child” he said with patience, wondering what kind of child would be so desperate for forgiveness, to come here this late at night.
“ … but surely you must understand why I did it. He is evil, that’s what he is. Born by Satan himself.” she blurted out, as the anger was rising up inside of her, like a kettle boiling with water.
“Who are you speaking of?” the Father asked. She was hesitating. Picking her words very carefully, before speaking.
“My stepfather.” the words became almost palpable, as if she threw them out in the air. “I had to do it” she continued. Her voice was once again filled with fear, yet there was more behind it than that. It was hate. Pure loath! She wiped the tear away from her face, but was only troubled with more.
“He did some horrible things to me. Tings that are so dreadful, I dare not speak of them” this time she was whispering so quietly, that the Father had to concentrate to hear what she was saying.
“What kind of things?” the Father asked; his voice was becoming more anxious. Wandering what on earth she was talking about.
She didn’t answer. The thing that she had been fighting back all night was finally taking control over her. Her small sobs grew louder, and she barely heard the comforting words spoken so carefully by the Father.
“Now don’t cry, I am sure its not that bad. Tell me what is bothering you, and I am sure God will forgive you”.
Ignoring what he said, she went on with a crying voice.
“I just couldn’t take it anymore when I walked in on him with my little sister. You should have heard her screams.” she sounded heartbroken as she went on. “She is only nine. She doesn’t know the cruelty of the world, and now he has torn her apart.”
“What did you do, child?” he asked, sounding almost agitated.
“I …” she paused. The silence, only broken by her hiccoughing sobs, was like torture to her. But still she did not dare speak. “All I need is Gods forgiveness, and then I can go. Will you forgive me?”
He didn’t answer.
“Please” she pleaded, not caring about how loud she was speaking now. “The world has no need for people like him.”
“I do not know what it is that you have done, but I am not able to forgive you unless you tell me what you have done.”
She knew that she shouldn’t have come here tonight. She started to panic. She had revealed to much. The bottle of poison that she was clutching in her hand, all of a sudden became very slippery, and fell with a thud down on the stone floor. It was crushed into thousand peaces, and the liquid grew into a small pond, touching her shoes. Her heart was forcing its way up her throat. She could here the movements of the Father on the other side. With one last glance on the floor she ran out of the confessional booth.
The sun was making its way through the windowpane, seeking the old mans tired face. He opened his eyes, and turned to see what time it was. The ancient clock on the bedside table showed 7a.m. . . . The sun was revealing the prominent lines on his face, making it look much like a raisin. His thin hair was barely visible, yet neatly placed upon his head. And his eyes looked heavy, clearly affected by gravity.
He stood up, and put on his usual clothing. As he walked towards the kitchen, he started to think of what had happen last night. What a strange night it had been. When he had heard a bottle crush on the floor, he had thought the girl had fainted. He had walked towards were she had been, only to find the confessional booth empty. Well not entirely. The floor was covered with pieces of broken glass, and the room was filled with a stench that made his nostrils burn. He did not know what it was, and when he came to think of it, he didn’t want to know what it was. The smell had made his heart jump so fast that if he did know he would probably die of a heart attack. It had taken him forever to get it clean up, but still the smell wouldn’t budge. He went into the kitchen, and turned on the radio for some morning news.