1The Twilight Saga and its characters are the property of Stephenie Meyer
9.
Green River Ranch Road. Victoria had been there. Recently. She had left three or four days ago, and she was not alone. There were at least five additional scents that I did not recognize.
Had she really spent so long here? Or did she take her time getting here?
Further down the road I found more evidence of her clan. A car stuck in a ditch alongside the road, all four doors left open. There were four human bodies inside, a family. Dead for at least a week. Each of them had brutal bite marks at their necks, wrists, and thighs. The two in the back were young, teenagers perhaps. In the passenger seat a woman, probably their mother, was clutching a chain around her neck. A gold cross laid in her cold hand.
The road truly seemed to lead no where but, as I traveled on, I came across a building. A small wooden structure with few windows. The words above the door read, "We love Him because He first loved us." - 1 John 4: 9-10
A church. I had not set foot inside a church in decades. Yet, something compelled me to enter. The space inside was simple. To the left was a table of lighted candles, set at the feet of a statue of the Virgin Mother. To the front a few pews sat in front of a modest altar. Behind it, a large crucifix demanded attention. I sat and stared at the wooden carving.
A man, a priest, entered from a room behind the altar. His presence was not a surprise to me. I heard him deciding whether or not to approach me. In the end he had decided it was his duty to comfort me, that I appeared bereft.
"Good evening," he called out to me. "What brings you to the Lord's house at such an hour?"
"I apologize, I had not realized the time."
He stared at my face for a long moment. A flicker of a memory came to his mind. Pale skin. And, then the thought was gone. His mind was similar to Charlie's. More images and emotions than the spoken thoughts I normally heard.
"You seem troubled. How can I ease your worry?"
He was a tall, slender man with a bald head and wire rimmed glasses. Probably in his mid to late fifities. He came and sat in the pew in front of me, facing the cross. I was drawn to speak to him, to confide in this stranger. For what reason I did not know.
"Father, I was never a religious man, but I do believe in a higher power. I believe that I will come to judgment when I leave this life and ... I am terrified of what I may face on the other side." I had never admitted this irrational fear to anyone. I sat in pained silence awaiting his response.
"My son, I may hear your confession. I may absolve you of your sins."
"How can it be that easy?" My voice was thick with scepticism. I would not allow myself to be consoled so quickly. "In my life I have done many things for which I am ashamed. Is it possible for God to forgive the unforgivable?"
"You are a young man. What could you have done that would make you afraid for your soul?"
"I have lied, cheated, stolen."
"Those things are common enough with those so young in the world. I forgive you, God will forgive you."
"What if I were a murderer, Father? Would God forgive me for taking a life?"
I could hear his heart's steadily increasing pace. Still he did not turn to face me. He continued to stare ahead.
"My child. Have you killed?"
"There was a time, long ago. I was walking late at night in the city. I saw a man follow a young woman into an alley. He was going to rape her, beat her, possibly kill her. How could I just stand by?"
"You killed this man?"
"Yes."
And many others like him.
"It was not your place to take his life. Judgement is a job that belongs only to God. But, you did a noble thing. Defending someone who could not have defended herself. You saved her. There is good in that."
But is that enough? Is that small good not overshadowed by all that is bad?
"There is a woman. A woman that I love more than I would be able to describe. She is good, pure, perhaps even an angel ... my angel."
"That is wonderful," his voice seemed to smile. "Perhaps she is God's answer to your worries. That He believes you deserve to have love in your life."
"But how can someone like me ever deserve her? What if I were to damn her soul the way that I have mine? How can all my darkness not put out her light?"
"Does she know everything in your past? All that you have confessed here tonight?"
"Yes."
He seemed surprised by my answer. "And still she loves you. Have you not considered that she was put upon this earth to be your savior? To save you from this darkness you have burdened yourself with."
"She loves me. But ... I left her, urged her to move on, to forget me."
His answer was appalled, angry even. "Why would you do such a thing? Why would you shut out such a gift?"
"Because I am unworthy of her love, and I will not let myself damage that which is good in her."
This seemed to be a never ending conversation, one I could not start again. I got up to leave. He remained in his seat never moving his eyes from the cross.
"Before you go let me say one last thing. I said before that only God may judge. The same is true for you, my son. Do not spend your life in judgement of what you have done wrong. Instead, allow yourself to love this woman, and allow her to love you. Give yourself the chance to redeem yourself in a new life with her. For if you do not, I fear that the darkness will devour you. No one can walk away from an angel and not find themselves in the dark."
He could no longer resist the urge to turn and face me. Before he had the chance, I was gone.