Burn Me Right

Chapter 44

Autumn stepped into the church, the heavy wooden doors creaking in protest as they swung open. The dimly lit sanctuary welcomed her, its hallowed air enveloping her senses. With each step, her heartbeat echoed through the sacred space, a resounding reminder of the weight she carried within.

She dipped her fingers into the holy water font, tracing the sign of the cross upon her forehead, chest, and shoulders. The cool droplets brought a sense of purification, a reminder of her desire for repentance and forgiveness. It was a ritual, a sacred act that connected her to generations past and the strength of her faith.

She knelt. The cold stone floor oddly brought her comfort, grounding her in this moment of vulnerability. The flickering candlelight danced before her, casting eerie shadows on the ancient walls. Her heart felt heavy, burdened by the weight of her emotions, the secrets she held close.

Silence settled around her like a cloak, amplifying the whispers of her thoughts. She closed her eyes, seeking solace in the holy place's embrace. The world outside faded away as she sought answers within the sanctity of this sacred place.

Her lips moved in silent prayer, the words a plea for guidance, forgiveness, and redemption. The heaviness in her chest threatened to suffocate her, but within the church's walls, she found a momentary respite from the chaos of her existence.

In this solemn space, she bared her soul to the divine, allowing her fears, doubts, and regrets to be bare. It was here, within the stillness, that she hoped to find clarity, to unburden her heart and make sense of the tangled web of her emotions.

As she knelt in the presence of something greater than herself, Autumn felt a glimmer of hope, a fragile flicker of light in the darkness. Minutes passed, and so did hours, but the sadness in her heart didn't.

A clank in the corner of the church grabbed her attention, and she saw the confessional booth's door shut. Deciding that confession might relieve her, she got up and started walking to the booth.

Kneeling before the booth, she did the sign of the cross. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," she slowly spoke. The candlelight shone through the ridges of the booth casting the shadow of the priest on the opposite wall. The figure appeared enormous as if engulfing the space with its presence.

She waited for a minute to hear the response, but she heard nothing, so she repeated. This time she heard the priest clear her throat not once but twice. He coughed twice and spoke, "So, my child," she heard a deep, fake voice. "What sins have you committed?" The voice felt different, deep, and edgy. Something she had never heard before. Autumn was surprised, as that was not the confession she was used to. The priest doesn't talk like that. She thought that the priest must've been someone new and maybe nervous, so she shoved that thought to the side and began to do what she wanted to.

"I have been a bad girl," she didn't think much of it or the way she said it. To her, it was normal. She had been a bad girl indulging in sinful acts that God would frown upon.

An amusing smirk formed on the priest's face, his eyes twinkling with mischief. The man found amusement in her choice of words, knowing the hidden innuendo behind them. "I see," he replied, his voice laced with a playful tone. "And don't you think that bad girls deserve to be properly punished?"

Autumn's innocent gaze met the wooden booth, her brow furrowing slightly in confusion. She was oblivious to the underlying meaning, naively assuming that he was referring to some form of penance. She nodded, "I suppose so," she bit her lip, trying to sound sincere. She didn't want to be punished.

He leaned in, his breath reaching her through the holes in the booth. "I will punish you, dear. But first, what sins did you commit?" he bit his lip, looking at her through the holes in the confession box.