Forgive Me, Father
by Lyndsey Werner
Bianca stepped inside the confessional. It was narrow and dark. The air was surprisingly cool, yet humid. She turned in the narrow box and sat. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. This is my first time at confession.” As Bianca spoke, it felt like her breath, laden with words, added to the humidity.
“Welcome,” The priest stirred on the other side. His voice was pleasant, friendly, and non-judgmental. “Do you know how this works?” He was soothing too. Everything she’d want in a priest, if she were actually looking for one.
“Yes, sir. But I’m actually not here to talk about my transgressions.” Bianca replied. “I’m here to talk about your’s.”
“Maybe you don’t know how this works.” The priest’s voice was laden with amusement.
“Everything said here is confidential.” Bianca answered. “And that’s what we need.” Bianca glanced at the wall between her and the man. “You see, I know about the rapists.” No response came from the priest. Bianca wished she could see him, read his body language. After a few more seconds Bianca continued. “I suspect that they confessed to you, and you killed them later.”
“I… see…” The priest said slowly. He paused and sighed. “Some things cannot be forgiven. Not by me-”
“I’m not here to judge you, Father.” Bianca interrupted. “I’m not here to turn you in either. And I’m don’t want to know why, or how, or how many.”
“I don’t understand.” The priest spoke after a moment. “Why are you here?”
Bianca was silent for a long time. “I don’t like serial killers.” She finally responded. “But considering the difficulty convicting rapists, and the number of people you may have saved… I decided to leave you be.” Bianca lapsed into silence again.
“What troubles you, child?” The priest encouraged her after a moment. “Why have you sought me out?”
“There are, some things, the police can’t do. That I can…” Bianca began haltingly. “And then there are some things I can’t do… That you can.” Bianca’s hands tightened as she tried to wipe them on her jacket. She felt sick. “There’s a file taped under the third pew, on the far left.” Bianca had no sooner said the words then she burst out of the confessional and fled the church.
Once Bianca was outside, she leaned on her knees, breathing heavily. She’d just killed a man. Bianca fell against a wall, turned her back to it and looked up at the sky. She’d killed him, as sure as if she’d stabbed him in the chest. Bianca didn’t regret it. He’d killed and raped enough. He was stalking another victim and he couldn’t be stopped. Not by her, not by the police.
Soon, a young, beaten and afraid girl would have her prayers answered. The fact that Bianca neither mourned the man’s death nor felt any regret for giving his file to a murderer changed the nausea she felt at being the cause of his death. Bianca closed her eyes, her face still tilted skyward.
…Forgive me, Father…
...for I have sinned…
Bianca stepped inside the confessional. It was narrow and dark. The air was surprisingly cool, yet humid. She turned in the narrow box and sat. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. This is my first time at confession.” As Bianca spoke, it felt like her breath, laden with words, added to the humidity.
“Welcome,” The priest stirred on the other side. His voice was pleasant, friendly, and non-judgmental. “Do you know how this works?” He was soothing too. Everything she’d want in a priest, if she were actually looking for one.
“Yes, sir. But I’m actually not here to talk about my transgressions.” Bianca replied. “I’m here to talk about your’s.”
“Maybe you don’t know how this works.” The priest’s voice was laden with amusement.
“Everything said here is confidential.” Bianca answered. “And that’s what we need.” Bianca glanced at the wall between her and the man. “You see, I know about the rapists.” No response came from the priest. Bianca wished she could see him, read his body language. After a few more seconds Bianca continued. “I suspect that they confessed to you, and you killed them later.”
“I… see…” The priest said slowly. He paused and sighed. “Some things cannot be forgiven. Not by me-”
“I’m not here to judge you, Father.” Bianca interrupted. “I’m not here to turn you in either. And I’m don’t want to know why, or how, or how many.”
“I don’t understand.” The priest spoke after a moment. “Why are you here?”
Bianca was silent for a long time. “I don’t like serial killers.” She finally responded. “But considering the difficulty convicting rapists, and the number of people you may have saved… I decided to leave you be.” Bianca lapsed into silence again.
“What troubles you, child?” The priest encouraged her after a moment. “Why have you sought me out?”
“There are, some things, the police can’t do. That I can…” Bianca began haltingly. “And then there are some things I can’t do… That you can.” Bianca’s hands tightened as she tried to wipe them on her jacket. She felt sick. “There’s a file taped under the third pew, on the far left.” Bianca had no sooner said the words then she burst out of the confessional and fled the church.
Once Bianca was outside, she leaned on her knees, breathing heavily. She’d just killed a man. Bianca fell against a wall, turned her back to it and looked up at the sky. She’d killed him, as sure as if she’d stabbed him in the chest. Bianca didn’t regret it. He’d killed and raped enough. He was stalking another victim and he couldn’t be stopped. Not by her, not by the police.
Soon, a young, beaten and afraid girl would have her prayers answered. The fact that Bianca neither mourned the man’s death nor felt any regret for giving his file to a murderer changed the nausea she felt at being the cause of his death. Bianca closed her eyes, her face still tilted skyward.
…Forgive me, Father…
...for I have sinned…