Forgive Me

Forgive Me


‘Forgive me father, for I have sinned.’ The voice was sorrowful and the priest suspected the young man was about to reveal something very damning.

‘What sin have you committed my child?’ The deep voice of the priest filled the air with calm reassurance and warmth as only an elderly figure of authority can.

‘The most evil of them all, father. I have done what only God should do. I have taken life and enjoyed it as I have never enjoyed anything before.’ The young man said.

‘And you intend to present yourself to the authorities - to repent - do you not?’ the priest said, still relaxed, although a slight wave of excitement had pulsed through him, and he had begun to lightly bounce his heel up and down as if to a song.

‘Not exactly,’ a dark edge tainted the man’s voice, ‘forgive me father for I will sin again, but first forgive yourself for you sinned long before I.’

‘What are you talking about?’ the priest’s excitement quickly changed to anxiety and his slight Irish accent thickened.

‘Forgive yourself father, for what you did to a choir boy twenty-five years ago. Forgive yourself for creating a murderer.’

‘Lies!’ his shout thundered through the empty church, bouncing off the arced wooden ceiling and reverberating from the beautiful stained glass windows, ‘I have never –

‘– Forgive yourself, for God will not.’

‘I have never done such a thing. You have lost your mind, my poor child.’ He bellowed, anger burning in him.

‘Forgive yourself, for I will not. Your actions those years ago have determined mine now. Your actions have determined your fate.’ The young man’s tone never wavered, a tone of cold but undeniable confidence. But the priest heard in that cold voice the song of the choir boy, then the screams and cries of the choir boy, then the silence, the silence was what he remembered the most.

‘My child I am sorry for what I did to you,’ The priest’s voice had broke, and he spoke quickly, the Irish accent now so strong he was almost unintelligible, ‘I thought you had died, I think about it every day, I hate myself for it. Forgive me, please forgive me. I was young – so terribly young.’

‘I was younger!’ now he shouted with righteous anger, and rose from the seat behind the wooden vale, he stared the priest in the eye, ‘Forgive me father, for I am about to sin.’ He walked out of the confession box and round to the side where the old priest sat. He slid the priest’s door open ‘May God have mercy on your soul – for I will not.’

The priest’s screams echoed through the silent church.