• THE TALL FIGURE tapped his feet, impatient for his turn in line. His black suit offset the white dress shirt almost in perfection, the awkward polka dot tie being the only abnormality. Its shimmering silver circles did nothing, however, to change his undertone.

    His face seemed tight, with eyebrows reaching to touch another as he let his emotions begin to show. The eyes were daunting in the surrounding aura he radiated. The immediate atmosphere appeared to be out of touch with reality, morphing the dim light into spiraling reflections off the dusty air.

    Moments passed by, and his frown became a determined scowl, and the wrinkles on his forehead worsened, etching deep into his skin. He didn’t blink. He didn’t breathe. Nor did he shift his eyes from the great oak door.

    It was stained some time ago in that of a rich brown, so much that its age looked older than the church itself. A golden plate glowed yellow in the center of the entrance. Saint Christopher’s Catholic Church, and under: Fr. Daniel. The edifice itself was over a hundred years old, so dust collected in places that were out of reach for the lazy janitorial efforts put in place. The pews were empty this Saturday evening, save for the two or three kneeling in silence.

    The man couldn’t stop thinking about what was going to happen next. It was just so hard to imagine he was really going through with this.

    Ten people stood in front of him. Confession. Rite of Conciliation. Forgiveness of sins. Absolution. This is what responsibility is all about, he thought. As he examined his conscience, he tried to remember as many of his “terrible” actions as he could. Flashes of memory. Images. Pieces of reminiscence flooded his mind.

    His beautiful daughters and their golden blond hair. Their silver necklaces and their perfect little smiles were estranged into his memory. Jean and Jennifer respectively, were embroidered on their sage collared shirts. They were quite the pair of seven-year old twins: hyper and maybe a little ADD, but they were loving, appreciation showing in their grey eyes.

    A figure motioned its way from the altar. It wore a white dress – no – a white wedding dress. The outline was female, and she was introduced by rice and petals alike. His wife Rosie, her amber hair pulled back and her ironically blushing pink cheeks were glazed with an angelic veil. One could almost call her a pearl, her white illumination was of such clarity. She held roses, and which, to no surprise, were white. Symmetrical flowers, grown with care by her own hands, only added to the beauty in the room.

    But she wasn’t smiling. Her lips were shut and her head was bent, closed eyes staring at the marble under her toes. Silent and unaware of her onlooker, she began to fade before his eyes, as if a ripple effect at the hands of reality.

    “Hello? Sir?” The man brought a palm up to his face. “Excuse me?”

    He was aware now. He shook his head to get rid of the fazed sense.

    “Forgive me. I guess it’s my turn now?”

    The redhead lady showed her teeth. “It sure is. Father Daniel is about to leave.”

    “Thank you.” Finally.

    Another man was standing in conversation with the man he needed to talk to. “I’m going to go ahead and go visit my niece. Is that alright, Father Daniel?”

    A voice from the room replied, “Sure, go on right ahead. Only one more person who needs a Confession anyways.”

    “Thanks! Have a good night!”

    “You too, Father Rivers.”

    The tall figure walked into the room. “Good evening Father Daniels.”

    “Good evening. How are you tonight?”

    “A little nervous, I guess, as always. Haven’t done this in awhile.”

    “Well at least you’re here now. Lets get started shall we?”

    “Why not?”

    “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”
    “Amen. Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It has been thirteen years since my last Confession. How am I doing so far?”

    “You’re doing great Jerry. Whenever you’re ready to confess, I’m here to listen.”

    “Thank you, Father. I really do appreciate this.”

    “Don’t thank me. Thank our heavenly Lord. He brought mercy to the earth after all.”

    Jerry made an inaudible chuckle. “I hope so. I really do.” He thought for a moment.

    “Well, I think I’m good to spill.” He paused, and respectively had to think to himself before he forced the following sentence after each named sin.

    “I have used the Lord’s name in vain, making his name unsightly in the presence of others. I have neglected communication with my father for the past eleven years. I have lied to friends, sometimes even my own family. I stole a friends’ jacket, but I did give it back a few years later. I have flashed anger for years, stressing over pointless things. Umm, I’ve looked at pornography. I have been jealous of another. His car, his house, his looks. Everything. I have pitied myself for this, feeling ungracious about what I have been blessed with.”

    “I don’t know how to stop hati-”

    “I don’t mean to interrupt, but let me remind you that we are all jealous of others from time to time. Remember that the Lord, our God, is forgiving, because he knows we aren’t perfect. Don’t be too hard on yourself. You’ve made the step here to confess your sins, and God understands. As long as we are forgiving of ourselves and of others, God is indeed, merciful.”

    Jerry nodded. “It’s hard living with oneself on a guilty conscience. So I’m glad I came here today.”

    “I’m proud of you, Jerry. I really am. Thirteen years is a long time. We are all sinners alike, as no one single person is a perfect being. Some form of temptation is succumbed to here and there, so we each have the responsibility to take responsibility for our actions. You confessed your sins. You did the right thing. If you’ve had a problem with your father, than I really hope the two of you can settle it peacefully, so that each of you may go through the rest of your lives without grudges.”

    “Father, I almost completely forgot to confess my worst sins.”

    “That’s fine Jerry. At least you remembered. Go on now. Get it off your chest.”

    “I…I…cheated.”

    “On what? Your bills? Maybe mortgage? Perhaps you went back to school-”

    “Not on what. On who. My wife. I cheated on my wife. The love of my very life, I cheated. I have had sex with another woman. Twice.”

    Sweat trickled down Jerry’s neck. He never had even meant to say anything about that. In fact, it was the one sin he knew he would not confess. After all, one shouldn’t confess sins that haven't happened.

    “Jerry…I’m really sorry. Domestic issues can cause mistrust between a husband and a wife, and thus you can lose sight of each other as you once did before. You confessed though. As long as you stop right now, God will forgive.”

    “For your penance, I want you to forgive yourself and your father. But most importantly, I want you to go to your wife and confess to her, too. Honesty can save your relationship before anything worse happens.”

    “It’s not just that I cheated on her. But she hasn’t been honest with me either.”

    “You honestly should confess. Keeping secrets in a marriage creates a barrier that can cause a ruining of a union by itself. God won’t exactly forgive hypocrisy.”

    "God, the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen."

    “Father, I’m afraid I have one more sin that you beat me to saying.”

    “Go ahead and tell me,” the priest sounded frustrated.

    “Dan, I killed somebody.”

    Father Daniel’s pulse became audible. “May I ask who?”

    “Yes, but I’ll have to write it down. I don’t want this to leave this room.”

    Jerry was handed a small slip of paper and a black pen. He scribbled down two words and then handed the sheet of paper back to the priest.

    As the priest read the note aghast, Jerry took something out of his pocket. His left hand held a silenced pistol.

    “You know what they say, Father.”

    “Have mercy on my soul?” said a shaky voice.

    “No. Cheat on someone else’s wife.” He squeezed the trigger.