"Bless me father, for I have sinned."

The cold, hard, wooden seats of the confessional pressed into my bones. My hands were curled and tensed into fists, my back was stiff.

"It's been one year since my last confession."

I took in a deep breath. 'You shouldn't be here', my pride scolded me. 'You haven't sinned, all you've done is to protect, it isn't wrong!'

"These are..." My ego wrapped his cold fingers around my throat and squeezed, choking me up and cutting off my words.

I closed my eyes.

'I have sinned...'

"These are my sins."

'Think about this...'

'I have.'

'Once you do this, you can't go back.'

.

.

.

'That's the point.'

"I... promised to protect someone important to me, and I hurt them instead."

"Could you be a little more specific, son?" The gentle voice came from the other side of the confessional.

I swallowed nervously. "I promised my father I would protect my brother... I lied to him for several years... when he found out, I told him-" I cleared my throat and ducked my head. "...I told him he should have just died... and I- I was scared, I was scared he was going to be hurt more, but it just..." I sighed. "He doesn't fully trust me, not anymore... I don't blame him."

"Is that all?"

'Yes.'

"...I also hit him, after he did something that saved many, many people... I got mad at him, because I was mad at myself, and I was mad at him, but I shouldn't have... I shouldn't have hurt him, he's been hurt enough."

"...And you feel...?"

"...I feel..." My eyes widened a little as I searched inside for a feeling, an emotion, a name, but it wasn't easy. It was... I wasn't sad, I didn't regret it, I wasn't... I didn't feel guilty, it was deeper than that, it wasn't regret, it was-

"Remorse." I whispered, my voice cracking a little bit.

"...That's a powerful emotion." The priest sounded a little bit surprised, even if he was trying to keep his voice even, I could tell.

"Remorse for lying, for hurting him, for hurting others, for being so blind, for being-" I broke my words off, my pride again holding my tongue for me. "For being jealous of him." I forced myself to let the words go.

"Him?"

"My father, my brother." I answered quietly.

"And why are you jealous of them?"

I chuckled dryly. 'This sounds more like a therapy session...' I thought. "I... they're so strong... well, my father was so strong, he'd do anything for us, anything for him, for my brother, he protected him with all he had, and my brother he-" I felt a lump begin to form in my throat. "-while I was dealing with one sort of tough life, he was dealing with his own, and despite that he always stood up for himself, and he stood up for me, and anyone or anything he cared about, and even after all I've done, after everything that's happened to him, he's still staying strong, he's still interacting with me, and I'm jealous of that, I wish..." I trailed off as I realized what I wanted. "...I want to be able to smile like him. I feel like..."

'Don't say it.'

"I've lost who I am, I'm fifteen years old and I'm too old."

"I'm sorry, son. There is time for you to turn a new page. Would you like to go on?"

I swallowed again. "Just...just one more thing." I murmured. Silence, silence that pressed me to continue. The syllables were glued to my throat, and I coughed. "I've hurt my body in order to obtain... strength, of a sort."

"...What kind of 'hurt'?"

"... I've... almost shot myself."

I heard a shifting in the other side of the confessional, as (I assumed) the priest was readjusting himself in surprise.

"...Are you positive it was all just to 'obtain strength'?" He asked slowly after a moment of silence.

I looked up at the door of my side of the confessional. I leaned forward and placed my elbows on my knees. I intertwined my fingers and clenched them, chewing on my lip. Was it? Was it just to obtain power? Or was it to...

To not deal with it anymore?

Just a chance, even if I knew I wouldn't die, even though I knew It wouldn't let me.

"I don't know..." I rasped. Quiet permeated the confessional, and I cleared my throat again. "Th-These are all my sins." I managed to say as my eyes teared up a bit.

"...I don't think this is all as bad as you think, son."

My head snapped up. "But-"

"Your brother sounds like a kind person... does he still try to be close to you?" He asked.

I gulped. "Y-yes, but..."

"I think he will forgive you. You have sinned, that is true, but you knew it, and you decided to confess and be forgiven... but if you wish to go further than merely being forgiven through confession, you can try to mend the wounds you have caused."

A tear dripped down my face, and even if no one could see me, I hurriedly wiped it away. "Like what?" I asked.

The priest hummed in thought. "...Apologize to him, for starters... show him you care about him, show him that you are his brother." I could hear the smile in his voice. "Spend some time with him and talk with him... you sound like you need to understand him better." He chuckled. "He may be jealous of you."

I scoffed a little. "I dunno about that..." I muttered bitterly.

"Even if you don't know, you can start a new page. Now, would you please express your sorrow in some way?"

I searched my mind, scrambling for words, but I couldn't think of anything. I exhaled sharply and I leaned down. I pressed my intertwined fingers to my forehead and closed my eyes. I took a deep breath and my mouth began to move on it's own as it remembered (and altered) the words.

"Brother, father... I am sorry for my sins with all my heart. In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good, I have sinned against you and the ones I care about, all of whom I should love above all things. I firmly intend to do penance, to try to sin no more, and to try to avoid whatever leads me to sin. I may not deserve it, but I will work hard to repent and be a better brother, a better son, and a better person." My voice broke, and I choked back a sob. My brother's stunned, betrayed expression stared me down. "Oh god... please have mercy..." I clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle my sobs.

The priest waited as I composed myself, and I saw a shadow of a hand raise towards the screen. I closed my eyes and let my ears see the meaning I found in his next words.

As the priest spoke the prayer of absolution, I felt a burning in my chest, a mixture of anger towards myself, remorse, and...

Determination?

I wasn't aware I was capable of determination when it came to my brother, my family.

The corner of my lip twitched upwards a little bit. He would be laughing at me for doing this, if he knew I was doing this. "Amen." I whispered in reply when the priest's voice fell into silence.

"Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good." He finished.

Maybe he is, maybe he isn't... maybe he isn't even real, maybe he is.

I didn't come for His forgiveness... if I didn't though, why did I come?

I placed my hand on my shirt for a moment and clutched at the fabric, searching, shifting through emotions and memories.

I came to forgive... myself.

And to eventually ask-or hope, even- for my brother's forgiveness.

"... his mercy endures forever." I breathed into the light, airy, shadowy quiet.

.

.

.

...I'm back.

No, I haven't found God or Jesus or whatever XD

But I got this idea, and I loved it... in this time, we need as much forgiveness and acceptance as we can give and get.

It doesn't matter what religion or orientation or race or gender or sex, discrimination hurts.

We just need to forgive and seek to be kind and accepting.

Anyways...

I hope you like this story. :)

And I'm glad to be back.

. o O o .

"I believe in peace. I believe in mercy." ~Malala Yousafzai