Yeah, yeah, Horray! I'm not dead. Whoopdidoodahday. I live. Life happens. Stuff comes up. My attention is required elsewhere. You know how it is.
I have no clue whatsoever where I'm going with this story, really. It's just some random one-shot I came up with while reading the "Confessional" series by Iko and the lot of them. Awesome series. Read it. Go. Iko's name is in my "Favorite Authors" tab... I think the story itself is in my favorites, but I'm not sure. I can't spell Iko's full name correctly to save my life, so... go to my tabs if you want a link. :3
Myes, I read the entire series... first I read "The Confessional", then two days later I read "Another Confessional," "One more confessional," and "Yet another confessional". Tip of advice- make sure you have something to entertain you between chapters, otherwise you get a serious case of de'ja vu.
I suppose this is my feble attempt at paying tribute to the awesomeness of four authors who take my skill and wipe their butts with it. I'm likely to tear this down and destroy it later. Yeah, don't even read this one. Goodness. It sucks. A lot. --;
Bless Me, Father, For I Have Sinned
"I…
"I don't know how to do this, honestly.
"I don't know how to pray to Yevon. Nobody ever taught me. My parents- sure, they were devout and almost frighteningly dead set in the ways of Yevon, but I think they just assumed I was born knowing how to pray and beg and plead to the higher power for help and strength.
"Though, with all I've learned of said power over the past year and a half…
"… why am I even still here in this temple, on my knees infront of Lady Yunalesca's statue?
"All the lies and deception and sheer unadulterated treachery gushing in floods from the mouths of the Maesters, all the murdering and blaming and finger pointing by the ones in charge of our world, all the endless suffering and widespread devastation laid upon Spira by the ones everyone prays to, pleads to…
"Why, I bet now my parents are rolling in their graves.
"The grave… I know I pestered and lectured Nooj on this, but… lately, the grave seems the most inviting place to reside. It's surely better than this hellhole of a life I lead now.
"Nooj… ever since our little group broke up and went our own ways, everything has fallen apart for me. Nooj, Baralai, Gippal. I wonder how they are. I wonder what they're doing right now… right now, as I kneel here, pain surging throughout my body starting from the stomach and chest and spiraling and zigging and zagging until my entire body is covered in thin electric currents as if ants covered in acid march over the most sensitive areas of my body, over and over in unrelenting paths in endless surges that by the end of merely a few minutes leave me writhing and screaming in delirious agony equal only to that of giving birth.
"How I wish I could do just that and have all of this nonsense over with. What I wouldn't give to just hurry up and drop this child, this spawn of a man half dead, and get on with the rest of my life, or what of it I can scrape together between scraping poo off a baby bottom and scraping throw up off the side of a crib.
"My thoughts are wandering aimlessly now, meandering from one topic to another as if drunk and confused, a Sin toxin-sick and wounded warrior trying to fight her way through the haze of the poison and blood loss and find her way to the nearest temple for help. However, the temples would much rather help a dying warrior than a woman of my state. The last thing the temples ever want to be associated with is a mother with child and no sire to claim said child. The only way I could have received a colder response from the head priest I could have only earned if I was wearing goggles and spouting a yellow and poofy hairstyle.
"No, they wouldn't have lectured the Al Bhed.
"At first, I figured the lack of the monthly blood was just my body's natural defense kicking in and healing my body of that long and treacherous journey through starvation, dehydration, murder, sand, pain, heat, madness, and mental and physical tests only superhumans could hope to survive. I never thought my state now could be achieved under the circumstances of then…
"It's times like this I wish I hadn't done what I did on that campout of death in the desert with Nooj. But I know in five minutes I'll remember how he made me feel, how alive, loved, admired, worshiped, and how much of a woman he turned me into, and I'll hold my stomach to try and settle the beast within and think, 'It was worth every bit of this torture.'
"I've often felt the need to seek out Nooj, to find him and tell him about the soul we created together out there in the sand and moonlight and, once or twice, the oasis. The instant I found out about my child, I could think of nothing else but to search and let the Capitan know he was to be a father. However, when the fourth month rolled around, worries came to my mind. Worries such as, what if Nooj was already dead? What if the Taydrcaagan finally found a place to call his tomb? If he even was, by some small miracle, still alive how would he respond to knowing I was pregnant and with his child no less? As I'd learned from the boss I worked for and the blitzteam I normally associated myself with, when you become pregnant with no wedding ring a friend's view and personal opinion of you takes a one-eighty turn.
"I think that's why I was so scared to seek help with this. I know for a fact if I'd've sent any sort of notification to Baralai that I needed help, he would have had me transported to Bevelle where he could personally watch over me and tend to my every need. Knowing him he'd send an angry letter to Nooj and demand that he be brought alive to my side, then he would have let Gippal know. Gippal would build me a crib, a rocking chair, a breast pump, a diaper container, a baby bouncer, and a machina nanny and THEN would have gotten onto Nooj… and me, as well, I suppose. Perhaps I should have done that?
"I have no way of providing for this child. I have no job- my boss fired me for "making a wrong choice" as if he never made one. Nobody will hire a seventh-month mother-to-be. I live now off the hand outs of the temples and whatever else I can scavenge from selling the few spheres I have left, doing odd jobs for some people who I can convince I was raped. One odd-job employer offered me a two week employment to pay for the abortion he himself would provide. I almost accepted, though… this is the child of a deathseeker. Its father wants an honorable death. I'm in no authority to deprive the offspring the same choice.
"Now, though, I kneel and pray and beg to whomever I can- Lady Yocum, Lord Braska, Lord O'halland- anyone who can hear me and answer my prayers… please, send help some how some way. Help me care for this child. I'm desperate. I don't know what to do. I'm lost, I'm confused, I'm worried, I'm pregnant! Help, please…"
The priest watched the small and fragile woman plead to the statues, her head bowed down to the plump abdomen and swollen chest. Tears ran down her eyes and soaked the fine leather gloves covering her hands. Something about her made him intrigued, watching her carefully as she continued to cry and pray and beg and scream to the gods and past Summoners and their Guardians for relief from her pain and status.
She stayed there for just shy of five hours, a sharp pain in her stomach finally beckoning her up and away. As she left, the priest passed her as if he was on his way else where and had only just come in the main room of the temple. As she passed he stopped and turned to her. He couldn't help but notice the small patch of wetness on her bottom and the tiny puddle of red liquid on the floor by the statue she'd been kneeling at lastly. He blinked a few times, then smiled to himself, folded his hands in his habit sleeves, and made his way back toward the priest chambers.