Father…I dont think theres any hope for me.
Its quite funny actually.
Everyone thinks theyre unique, that somehow theyre different than everyone else.
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I havent turned cynical in my old age, just weary.
I guess thats where faith kicks in.
Though now…now Im not sure how much of that faith I still possess.
You see, I dont practice anymore.
Ive given up the collar.
I witnessed something that has shaken me to this day and the shadow of its memory still haunts me.
It was the last confession I ever did.
I stifled a yawn, trying my best to remain awake as another sobbing parishioner left the confessional.
I checked my watch and saw I still had another twenty minutes to go.
I ran a hand over my weary eyes and then spoke into the screen.
A male voice whispered to me from the other side, Forgive me Father for I have sinned.
This is my first confession.
Ive done so much…
I sat up a little straighter, My son, there is no sin too great for God.
Murder…deception…lust…
The mention of murder sent a cold icicle shooting up my back, You killed someone?
I asked, voice hardening.
This was a serious confession, one I had never heard before in all my years in the booth.
I leaned into the screen, voice stern, Have you thought about turning yourself into the police?
Coming clean will surely ease the weight of your sins.
I can hear it in your voice…youre suffering.
The man started crying, You have no idea…
The man surprised me by barking a laugh, His love is not endless.
But hear me: nothing is too great for the Lord.
The man was recovering and he snorted behind the screen, You couldnt be more wrong.
Slightly frustrated, I pressed him, What makes you say that?
Because I am your Lord.
I blinked, my head spinning.
Just what kind of person was I dealing with here?
I suddenly realized that the mental state of this person could be seriously compromised.
After a moment, I decided to play along a little longer, Youre…the Lord.
I can hear your doubt.
There is no Son of God, the man said, irritated, Just me.
You guys made up all that Jesus bullshit.
I had nothing to do with that.
My mind was spinning as I tried to keep up, Ok, so who are you really?
And what are you doing in my confessional?
The man exhaled, I just told you who I am.
The man laughed, No, no, no, youre wrong, youre all wrong.
What are you talking about?
I asked feeling anger begin to stir in my chest.
The mans voice dropped low, Heaven is fucking gone.
His tone remained the same, a low rumble, It got wiped out a long time ago.
How is that possible?
God is almighty, the Devil can never best him, I said.
The man slammed his hand against the wall, causing me to jump, There IS NO DEVIL.
I dont know WHERE you people got that, but it wasnt from me.
There is just myself and Heaven.
No angels, no saints, nothing.
I created a place for YOU and I created a place for ME.
Then I sat around and watched my creations, all from the comfort of my home.
Every once in a while Id poke my finger in and stir up some shit.
Cause a disaster or something, just to see how youd react.
If Heaven is gone…where do our souls go when we die?
I have no idea!
The man said, I dont even know if you HAVE a soul!
I certainly didnt give you one.
I made you so I could have something to DO.
When you die, three more people take your place and I watch the circus go round and round.
I have to say, Im impressed with the human race.
You all have really come a long way.
I never dreamed youd create such wonders.
Why…why are you here?
I repeated, mind blanking at the absurdity of what I was hearing.
The mans voice turned quiet, an edge of unease now, Because Im going to die soon.
I cant hide down here much longer.
They know where I am.
Theyre getting so close.
The man collected himself before whispering, The Old Horns.
Something about this man held me…and terrified me.
I thought you said the devil didnt exist?
He doesnt, the man hissed, This is something else entirely.
I have no idea what they are or where they came from.
The logical part of me begged to end this conversation, but I couldnt let it go.
What do they want with you?
Fear entered the mans voice, I dont know.
They just showed up in Heaven one day, taking me completely by surprise .They destroyed everything.
Their power and wrath was more furious than anything I have ever seen before.
I had no choice, I ran.
You ran…and came to Earth?
he said, Where else is there to go?
I dont KNOW anywhere else but your world and mine!
I have no clue where these entities came from or how they found me.
But theres no stopping them…theyll be here soon…I cant hide forever.
If youre God, what do you oughta apologize for?
Truth be told, I have no idea what will happen to me when they catch up.
Im really, really scared.
Im not the all loving, wonderful God humanity thinks I am.
Ive done things to you people that sicken me.
I dont know why I did them, but I did.
Im sorry for all the shit Ive made you people go through.
You didnt deserve it.
I kept pushing the envelope and you Christians never lost faith in me.
You would find ways to make sense of it all, always giving me the glory.
Shit, Im so sorry… How could I believe any of this?
Oh no, I heard the man whisper, fear stirring his voice.
I heard the shuffle of a curtain and then the creak of wood, Theyre here.
I swallowed hard, Who?
Something dropped into the pit of my stomach, and I was suddenly very on edge.
I leaned forward, one hand resting on curtain in front of me.
Do NOT look at them, The man hissed.
I whispered, my voice unsteady now.
Just…DONT, he said urgently, My time here is done.
Im at the end of my road.
Stay in your booth until you hear silence again.
It will be safe then.
This is insane, I whispered, Theres nothing out there.
My hand remained frozen, my sweaty fingers plastered to the curtain.
Voice shaking, mind spinning, I released the curtain and turned to the screen.
Something moved outside the booth, a scraping sound across the marble floors.
The man exhaled heavily, relief filling him, Thank you Father.
It was the blast of a low horn, a long single note that rattled me to the bone.
As the sound faded, a drop of sweat ran down my face.
What in the hell…
Its time, the man said.
I cried, pressing my face against the screen, Dont go out there.
The mans voice softened, Maybe this is how it was supposed to be.
I never sent someone to die on a cross for your sins.
But I do love you.
I love all of you.
And I cant thank you enough for keeping me company all these years.
You truly are an incredible people.
God bless, Father.
And then I heard the curtain rustle as he stepped out into the sanctuary.
His footsteps echoed away from me and I slammed my hands over my ears again as another horn sounded.
My breath blew sour across my tongue and I sat panting, waiting, sweat rolling down my spine.
I heard the man speaking to something, but I couldnt understand him, his voice muffled.
My hands clenched my pants, and every part of me screamed to look.
But I resisted, teeth grinding together as I squeezed my eyes shut.
I began to count in my head, desperately needing to focus on something.
…five…six…seven…eight…nine…
I opened my eyes.
I had just felt something change, something in the air.
A shift in energy, a draining of something that was no longer there.
Cautiously, I reached out and grasped the curtain in front of me.
I stood, my old bones sighing, and dragged a shaking hand across my brow.
I opened the curtain.
And the sanctuary stood empty.
Not long after that, I gave up the cloth.
I just couldnt do it anymore.
Something about that day shook me to the very essence of my being.
Ive discussed the event with a couple other priests and they just dont understand.
I dont blame them.
When I recite my story, it sounds like the ramblings of a mad man.
Who would alter their life so drastically based on one interaction?
Especially considering the circumstances.
But I have, and I dont regret it.
Something about prayer just feels so empty now.
I dont know whats going to happen when I die.
In truth, no one does.
But what I do know…is what I felt that day inside the confessional.
I cant explain what I witnessed.
I cant rationalize the bizarre sounds I heard.
I cant reenact the conviction I heard in that mans voice.
But it was there and it was real.
And that…is what I have put my faith into.
Read the whole story of Tommy Taffy.
THE THIRD PARENT by Elias Witherow is now available!here.
