The cool cloak of darkness soothed Lexi’s soul as she slipped inside and pushed closed the heavy wooden doors of the small Chapel behind her, with a heavy and resounding bang, causing dust to rise from the tiled floor. She stood with her back to the wood, letting the particles and sound settle to absolute stillness, making sure the place was empty.
Her breathing grew deeper and slower as the pure silence of the place filled her. As her pupils slowly grew accustomed to the darkness, she could see that Father Burke was not yet awake, the candles had not been lit it was after all 4am.
One solitary flicker burned bright illuminating the blackness, showering a golden glow over the alter, and on each inhale she relaxed to the aquired taste of bitter incense in the air. Deep breaths prepared her for what was next.

Her converse squeaked slightly as she padded her way down the aisle toward the confessional booth. The words of her nagging mother ringing in her ears as she cast a long shadow down the wall over the darkened stained glass windows:

“Listen to me young lady. Today’s youth have lost a sense of sin! Your father is disgusted. Heaven only knows how you were born to good Catholics like us. Get to confession and make an effort to recognise your sins and pray your father doesn’t see you when he gets back from the pub”.

Before going into the Confessional she kneeled, crossing herself and slipping into a front pew. Long strands of dark silky hair fell over her wet cheeks, as she realized this was the only place she opened up fully. Alone and away from judgemental eyes. It wasn’t because she was a good Catholic. She wasn’t. This was her therapy, a way of coping.

So many Sins she had broken. Where the hell should she start? She would be here all night. She decided to choose the worst, as was taught, to start with. Then finish with the best. And save the rest for another time.

After examining her plan of action, and probing her conscience she said a prayer, ‘Take me from the Dark’, lips murmering the words automatically, ingrained in her memory as she slipped into the confessional and signing the cross with chewed fingers, nails painted a vivid pink. Her green eyes fixated on the wooden paneling by her feet, the knots and whirls of the wood seeming to fascinate her, fading black eye barely visible in this light.

"In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. My last confession was 2 weeks ago. Forgive me, Father for I have sinned.”

Lexi was not talking to anyone. The booth was empty, but this didn’t matter to her. It was offloading.
Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes, lashes tickling her cheeks as the rambling began. Long list of sins, tumbling from lips that should never have uttered them. Sometimes heated, angry, sometimes sobbing and hurt. She doesn’t know how long she talked, not expecting any answer. She was animated, brutally honest, and it felt good to spew out the vitriolic filth she had festering inside her, making her sick and angry. This was the shameful side she wouldn’t dare to reveal to anyone. The self hatred.

Honor your father and your mother.
“I do NOT honour my father or mother. I HATE my Father. I cannot hide my absolute repulsion at his very existence. I hate his voice. I hate the way he acts. I do not respect him. I do not want to see him ever again. I am ashamed he is my father, and never call him that name”

Lexi’s mind recoils as she remembered the trip last weekend to visit her Father. The forced trip, she only made for Seb’s Boarding school Papers. The fact they had taken away her baby for a second time had caused untold damage to her fragile mind and nature, which would have disastrous conseqences in future. She had escaped their emotional and occasionally violent abuse during her respite at University, and they were making up for lost time.

Her fathers voice, sneering and viscious after a whisky:
“You ungrateful bitch. We took him away for your own good. You aren’t fit to bring up a child. Who would let you put your own failings on an innocent boy. You can’t be trusted.”

Anger (and a desire for revenge).
Buoyed by the support she was receiving from friends and her new man in Hathian, she was stronger however, believing at last she may not deserve this shit any more.

“Chip of the old block, am I? Learnt from the best.”
The look of contempt in their eyes, lack of any kind of love had snapped her will. She hated her weakness. Anger had pulsed through her like fire, brightly lit and burning hot, blinding her. She lost all constraint and swore at him, glaring back at him as he stepped towards her.
The fist came crunching into her face in all its glory, in front of her younger sisters. As she crumpled she felt the hot pulsing of a gash on her eyebrow, her eye puffing up like a giant egg, knocking her sick to her stomach.
Why was the only emotion she received from him anger? Maybe it was why she had learned this trait, inherited this curse. The actual punch, as many victims will say, is almost a relief, it is the fear and tension BEFORE the final act which clenches at your guts. The pain of the punch was like a welcome relief, the end.

Thou Shall not Kill.
The silence of the night woke her up with a start. Creeping from the guest bedroom she had walked as if led by an invisible force, almost floating in a daze to the kitchen. Pacing around she came to a stop by the counter. A twitch of pain from her swollen eye,brought the vison of her hands, currently wrapping around the thick handle of a breadknife, into crystal clear clarity. She dragged it free from its block with a rasp.

Bare feet padded across moonlit floor as slow steps took her up the flight of stairs to her parent’s bedroom door. Her face was impassive. Without any flicker of emotion, she just started ahead at the door, pushing it open slowly to a whisper of a creak. Some moments pass. She had been building to this moment for 19 years, and wondered if she truly would go to hell like they always told her.

Her parents form was evident in the light cast from a streetlamp outside, a kink in the curtains letting a slither of light slice across the bed as if showing her the way.

Toes pressed into the soft weave of the Axeminster carpet, as she took careful steps towards his side of the bed. Her heart hammered, but her grip was strong on the knife, knuckles turning white, as all the past flickered before her eyes. The screams, the beatings, the abuse. Flickering like a filmreel against the moonlit wall. Her Mother’s ignorance and lack of protection. The times she took a beating for her sisters, and had to stay off school for days, her mother ringing in with some false illness. They all believed Lexi was a sickly child back home.

A strange calm decended over her, as if this decision was the only option which made sense. Kill him. Save her sisters. Her knuckles were white on the blade as she stared at the rising and falling of his chest. Seeing through one functioning eye, the other swelled shut, her aim could have been off but she was stood above him, she wouldn’t miss. Slowly her arm raised up, gaining momentum, blade reflecting a beautiful shimmer of light across bedspread.

Wait

In the moment of truth, the evil bastard’s eyes flicked open, almost sensing some impending doom had filtered into the room, unhinged and hell bent with silent fury. He lay, frozen, staring up at her. The white’s of his eyes were stark in the gloom, full of shock and terror. Lexi stood there, arm raised for what felt like an eternity. Do it. End him. She hesitated. He looked suddenly like a frail old man, salt and pepper hair and bony cheeks, gaunt with alcohol abuse. She fed off his terror, the control feeding her to the core.

A look passed between them, a silent cold understanding, she was no longer the scared little girl. She was stronger, she would take him on. His fleeting look of fear had been like a balm to her, she had finally won one over on him. She realized this was enough, she had broken the spell he had over her. She had taken control. It felt exhilarating, shocking, and she let out a short crack of laughter with the intensity of it. She hissed:

“Don’t touch me again. Don’t contact me. You are dead to me”.

She was suddenly gone from the room. Knife dropped with a clatter on the wooden flooring of the hallway as she left, Walking head held high in the middle of the night, fleeing from the place that was supposed to be home, to her new home.

Walking for 2 hours to reach the bus stop and waited till day break to catch the first Greyhound bus back to Hathian.
And to the one who had captured her like no one else could.
Perhaps if it weren’t for him, she would have had no hope, and would have slaughtered her father in a heartbeat. He would never know in how many ways he had saved Lexi, but in time she would repay him. He was like the light in her dark world and she headed to him like a moth to the flame.
But he is a whole new confession.

Forgiveness
Crossing herself she said a silent prayer and exited the booth. She felt as if a crippling weight had been lifted. She was free to enjoy her new life.

“Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee, blessed art thou amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen.”

Ten Hail Mary’s would ensure she could look her closest in the eye and feel no guilt. Forgiveness, it was magical. She winked at Elvis's effigy on her way out, he was a good listener.

Finally, stepping outside into the intense sunlight, she realised just how long she had been inside. The sun had come up, and she was a new person, redeemed inside and out. Closing her eyes a moment to bask in the rays she stretched and smiled. Maybe she would have time for a stiff drink before class.