The Fallen - Part 3

The glow of the candle light flickered inside its glass orange housing, illuminating what it could and indicating to those heavy of heart, those wanting to release some of their burden through the fire of repentance, that a priest was available inside the confessional. Many came and went, many let their sins roll off the tongue in hopes of finding some kind of solace, some kind of sanctity in their minds, and hearts, and some sort of forgiveness from the creator of their souls.

One such women was Sarah. He had never seen her face, as the booth kept a wooden cloak between the sinners and the church appointed instruments of the heavenly father, their intermediary saviours. Even so, more than words were spoken. The voice carried with it the depth of suffering of those seekers of forgiveness. A sincere priest could tell, even from his place behind the cloak, how deep that suffering hurt. Axel, was one such priest.

He enjoyed her confessions. He could tell she was wayward, but more so that she was far from the depths of despair that many others who knelt beside him to seek his guidance and wisdom were. She was a soft soul, and most weeks she had come in over the past month, she started the same way, as most did.

“Forgive me father for I have sinned. It’s been a week since my last confession.”

When she first visited, Axel sensed it was her first time stepping into their father’s house, as she started quite differently. She asked who the young priest was around here, and when he answered it was himself, she simply went on explaining her life away. He felt in her that she wanted him to know her, not so much for the bad she felt she had done, but just as much for the good. On the next visit, Axel instructed her in how she might like to formally begin, and to focus on what troubled her instead.

As Sarah returned, week after week, on the Sunday when Axel was scheduled to be in the confessional, she told of her heavy heart. She told of her regrets. She emptied herself of her fears and worries. Sarah, also shared her sweetness and love, without words. Her scent wafted through the small slits that kept the two apart, a mixture of perfume, warmth and kindness, and although she continually confessed of her troubles, he sensed more good in her than anything else.

Axel replied the same way, week after week. He asked her to speak truly and honestly, and to really feel the sorrow of her sins. And after each confession, each session of self-redemption, he also asked that she forgive herself, as this was part and parcel of the process. As much as she forgave herself, as much as she felt the depths of her suffering, he explained, would be to the extent she would feel her heavenly father’s forgiveness also. It was the same dance, week after week, until today.

Sarah seemed different. She seemed rushed, and her voice carried that news. It also carried fear. She was a sweet women, even with her folly, and this was unlike her. After the formal opening, she persisted.

“I’ve done a bad thing, father. I’ve been a bad daughter, a bad sister, and a bad example to others. I need to tell you this, and I haven’t much time.”

Axel’s attention was captured, his own heart pulsing faster than usual, as if he was riding the waves of emotion seeping out from her, with her. He leaned forward in his chair, elbows on his knees and his head propped up in his hands. His forehead furrowed as the mind focused, his face showing his serious demeanour. He prompted her to continue.

“Go on, what do you feel you need to confess.”

As she continued speaking, Sarah couldn’t help but pour out her heart, and with it came tears that streamed down her face. It wasn’t like her, or maybe Axel just didn’t know the real her, either way she seemed in a great deal of sorrow and it filled the confessional booth.

“My father, my actual father, the man who raised me. He’s not a good man. He’s the worst kind of man. I’ve known this for a long time, and I got great benefits from it. He loved me dearly, but I knew the truth all along and I ignored it. He hurt a lot of people, and those people have finally had enough.”

Sarah’s sobbing increased, her heavy tears now flowing uncontrollably, and with it came sniffling and erratic breathing. She wiped away what she could with her bare hands before going on.

“Someone is after me, but I have to tell you this. It’s important, and it’s why I’ve been coming here the past weeks. It’s not about me, it’s about you, Axel.”

At the mention of his name, Axel sat up straight in his chair and put his hand on his face in surprise. How did she know his name? They had never seen one another face to face, and their only interactions were in this very church, concealed and yet separated in this wooden box. He was dumb founded.

“How do you know my name? What are you talking about?”

“There’s no time. Please, see me outside.”

Sarah’s crying had ceased. Her sorrow turned to worry, to fear. She stepped out of the booth and to Axel’s and another priest’s surprise, she stepped into the other side of it, pulling the wooden door closed behind her.

The first thing Axel noticed, beyond and behind all the tears and smudged makeup, was a set of deep blue eyes. Looking into them for the first time, whilst being shocked and unnerved at this women’s forwardness, her brazen denial of church and social protocol, he couldn’t help but glimpse something deep within them. It was almost like he had seen them before, like he knew them.

Just as Sarah began speaking, a ruckus erupted outside and the yelling of men, including the older priest Axel was scheduled to serve with today, interrupted them. Both turned toward the door, yet Sarah quickly snapped around and grabbed Axel by the arms, kneeling down in front of him, trying to focus his attention.

Even with what sounded like a fight about to breakout just beyond the safety of the wooden 16^th century booth, Sarah looked directly into Axel’s eyes. She was determined to say what she needed to say in spite of the commotion, in spite of what seemed to be what she was worried about earlier, as she just had to have known, given her persistence within and acceptance of the events unfolding without.

She said a few words which accompanied the handing over of a gold pocket watch. These words were enough to make Axel’s heart leap from his chest, and he barely noticed what she was imparting him with. He let the cold, weighted, mechanical portable clock linger in his right hand as his face, his body language, spoke of nothing else but shock.

Then it happened. What transpired next he would never forget; not ever. He would carry this with him till his last breath, and even then God wouldn’t be able to wrestle it off of his shoulders, or maybe more so, the devil wouldn’t be able to beat it out of his soul. Just as soon as Sarah had given him the watch, she turned toward the door, with the men outside having now closed in on the booth. She stood up and stepped out, and as she did she turned toward Axel. She looked into his eyes, and he looked back into hers. She didn’t acknowledging the three armed men directly, because in hind sight, Axel understood that she knew.

Her father’s sins, and her reluctance to remove herself from them, was her suffering, and it culminated in a single bullet to the side of her head. Her body flailed sideways with the force of the gunshot. The sweet, kind, yet self-imprisoned women whom Axel had heard speak of her troubles over the past weeks, finally found her solace.

As her body hit the ground, Axel dropped to his knees, in disbelief. The wooden door of the booth was wide open, and he quickly crawled on all fours toward Sarah’s lifeless body. Her eyes, her ocean blue eyes were still open, looking right at him, into the depths of his eternal being. He could never forget them, along with the death of a sweet, kind, sometimes troubled soul, and a perfume that carried that soul to him in the confines of separation.

The armed men made their getaway. The other priest was no longer taunting them, and instead was next to Axel, saying a prayer over Sarah’s body as he closed her eyelids. The older man was asking God to take her soul home to where it belonged, and asked for an Angel to light the way. As the long practicing Catholic priest crossed himself upon completion, he then placed his arm around his compadre who was deep in shock.

Axel simply knelt there, staring at Sarah’s face, clutching the gold pocket watch against his chest, the first and last material gift she would ever give him, as the words “I’m your twin sister” played over and over again in his mind.