Guilty Filthy Soul

by whoatherebuddy

Her future wasn't to wear white dresses and attend church on Sundays, sprinkled with vanilla musk and holding a smile; it was to be left shredded in the dark, weeping so hard that her tears melted with the rain, clutching her chest so he could not hear what was his - her broken bones were to be the Devil's throne. "F-Father I do not want to resist him."

Corithians 11:14

And no wonder, for even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light

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"Bless me Father, for I have sinned," She whispered, ghosting her fingers into her ripped dress. "Forgive me."

Father gave a fleeting moment of silence, she sensed his lips parting in confusion; heard his delicate shuffle of the sermon cap atop his head before he relayed an answer.

"What do you wish for me to forgive? What sin has brought you to the house of God?"

The girl straightened her back against the seat and stared ahead, trying to find redemption, peace or a form of comfort from the home that she had watched so many weep in. "The Devil was an angel," She spoke softly. "He was an angel and he fell,"

Father heard the quiver in her voice. "He fell through fire in order for God to find the light."

"I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven," She recited, glancing up at the ceiling. "He was pure Father and only the stars that he drowned in, saw it."

Father stayed silent, swallowing at the inference of satanic pleasure. He licked his drying lips and stared ahead at the wooden beams, seeking God's words, praying that the innocence of the girl beside him had not fallen to fire as he feared. "This would be easier if you just told me what you are seeking forgiveness for."

Her jaw became wet with the river of tears falling from the outer corner of her eyes, black with mascara and scraping her foundation with it. She could not quite bring herself to just say what she feared. Instead; "You taught me to submit myself to God," The velvet of her voice shook painfully so, that the pastor even felt afraid that she would crumple with the guilt that seeped from her soul.

Nonetheless he continued the reference. "Resist the devil, and he will flee from you; James in the old testament spoke."

"Yes," The woman barely whispered, choking on her throat.

"What are you here to seek forgiveness for?" He enquired. "What is your sin?"

The church fell silent, the wooden doors drawn open left the eerie bristle of leaves tumbling through to the altar. Chimes shimmered above, making her nails grate and she felt her crimson lipstick smudge in line with her crying.

"F-Father I do not want to resist him."