ssa'
the marble tile as I made my way to the confessional. The sacred and holy environmen
ional. But this was wher
ce of me was going to crumble with every step I took. My heart beat heavily against my rib
den seat, placing my hand on my ches
eep breaths until my heart rate s
resence of the priest on the other side of the demarcation. Mustering all the courage in
own my cheeks
n evident in his tone. I raised my head and stared at the net t
I answer
r those who have already
, responding with a sur
or you shall sin?"
cing heart before answering him, "Father, immediate
tion proved it. The priest gasped. "What? Do you know that God doesn't support the killing of
stion, not sure if
n you tell me the reaso
at the ground. "I don't think I am rea
atter of fact, it's written in the Bible that, you shall not kill, and I hope y
ile pondering on the mistake you made, and the one you are about to make, th
But I have to do this," I muttered, looki
help homeless people, then the sin I was about to
behind the demarcation. I really needed to talk to someone to get the burden off my chest, and I couldn't tell my
y purse on some street food. Then, I slowly distributed it to the homeless people in the alleys and corners.
e storm. The rain reminded me so much of how all of this mess started. I stretched my han
e next day. I remembered how all of these started and I wished it was never l
e of my many job shifts, ti
people found peace within their homes, but I was not one of them. I detested coming home a
. I had prayed and hoped that my dad hadn't abused my mum
tting on the bare floor. She was sobb
my bag on the floor and knelt beside her, cradling he
kept crying. I hugged her tightly
en she had finally stopped crying. She stared at me
hen I finally took my eyes off her and saw the state of th