MurderVerse

Empty church

Lonely sanctuary.

Wednesday afternoon

Sun streams through windows casting shadows

Lighting stained glass

Casting color

Illuminating saints

This imposing space, my house of worship since childhood

Still scares me

Never the home of a loving God, a forgiving God

This house, ruled by fear of fire and brimstone and holy

vengeance, scared all into obedience

Giving children nightmares

While our parents gave their dollars

Here I learned to hate religion and doubt God's existence.

I felt eyes upon me; I looked up

Father Tim was standing next to me

"I see your back," he said

"Yeah, My back's killing me these benches...

Ancient hardwood as stiff and unyielding as a nun's compassion

"Yeah, look I just wanted to thank you for, Marion's number"

I stood up, stretched, and we were face to face

"Was he able to provide the information you needed?"

"Yeah, but he seemed...I don't know, I want to say scared"

"He's gotten death threats"

"Not Shocking."

Father Tim answered with silence

"Marion said you ministered unto those who had no hope

of forgiveness in this life or the next."

I was fishing for info about Maxine

"A very small subset of individuals among an otherwise

devout congregation."

He said

"How do you know if you qualify for that subset?"

"Guilt is usually a good first indicator"

I never feel guilt

A sense of sorrow.

Never felt sorrow

Courage to turn away from sin, not repeat it

No desire to turn away, I like my life

Confess your sins

God already knows my sins

Humility

For suckers and squares

Replace what you've taken

Lost track of everything I stole over the years

Father drew close, and whispered, "I'm talking about lives taken"

How would he know that?

I sat back down, and thoughts of Doris flooded in around me

Seventeen-year-old Nebraskan runaway

Doris was bored

Sudden, suddenly shame and guilty guilt

"No Father, I can't give someone back to life."

I said it out loud, my face pointed toward the floor

When I looked up the Priest was gone

My voice disappears into thin air

Alone in an empty church

This imposing space, my house of worship since childhood.