The Sacrament of Penance

Confession heals, confession justifies, confession grants pardon of sin, all hope consists in confession; in confession there is a chance for mercy.
--St. Isidore of Seville

Based on true life events.

WARNING: THE THINGS YOU'RE ABOUT TO READ HAPPENED IN A CITY NEAR YOU AND COULD... Xxivi Jhredl Nisioyafcx JuaaAobd.... (Red Alert: Typo... typo... typo...)

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"Father I have sinned," Kelvin said. He kneels in the confession box with both hands locked in a fist.
"Confess your sins son," the Priest said.
"Father I have sinned, please forgive me." Kelvin repeated and continued,
"At my best, I remain a piss of shit; a scumbag; a shitty scallywag; all the S's dines with me" Kelvin said.

"Confess your sins son, the Lord is merciful and just," said the Priest.

"At my worst, the F-word fucks me. We fornicate without reproach. She always win, for I am weak.
Father, I have sinned, please, forgive me."

"Confess son, confess."

"I did a terrible thing Father. I'm ashamed of myself." Kelvin started, his hands quaked as he spoke.
"Confess son, for we have all sinned and fallen short of grace, but the Lord is just and merciful, His nature is always to have mercy." the Priest said with angelic calm.

"I am a teacher, I run a tutorial center. Every young kid look up to me. Parents send their wards to my tutorial and they see the change in these kids lives." Kelvin explained. He gnashed his teeth as he continued,
"I am their role model Father,  they all want to be like me --Kelvin the great." he said with pure sarcasm.

"They all look up to me, and never have I let them down academically. They pass their exams with ease, emerging in flying colours; their parents and guardians even send me gifts sometimes after exams" Kelvin cleared his throat, his voice was beginning to shake. He brought out a newly bought white handkerchief and blew his nose in it.
The Priest waited patiently, without saying a word.

"In the nutshell Father,  I am a respectable and responsible young man.
But... I do terrible things to these kids and they dare not say to a soul, else they die." Kelvin said.

"He is just and merciful. Confess son, confess."

"I was mad in the head Father. I always enjoyed it, and the kids eventually do in the long run." He continued.
"But the last I had I didn't enjoy. A minor. An eight year old. I am ashamed of myself Father,  I am ashamed." Kelvin paused and blew his nose again.

The Priest was touched, he sighed inaudibly and brought out a white handkerchief that had seen good times. He dabbed his teary eyes with the hankie and thought about the broken eight year old girl for a moment before Kelvin's croaked voice ushered him back to the box.

"I am a proud man Father, but for this I am ashamed. I am a pedophile Father, and I molested and raped an eight year old boy."

The Priest adjusted himself on his chair, shocked at the twist in Kelvin's confession.
A boy?! A damn boy?! He wanted to scream, but remembered that the Lord is just and merciful. He was only a witness to the confessional.
What difference does it make? A girl or  boy? A life had already been destroyed and only the Most high can amend such brokenness. He thought.
"Confess son... confess." the Priest said with divine calm.

Kelvin confessed the atrocities he commits with young boys. He was only attracted to boys --tall, short, skinny, fat,  he had no specs; what mattered was that they were boys.

After the confession, the Priest gave his words of wisdom, and prayed for him, and ordered him to go and sin no more. Kelvin came out penance, a new man.

"Look at that fine young guy, can't you just be like that? He even goes to church during the week." a mother said to her son as Kelvin came out of the church. Her son had piercings on his nose, tongue and ears. The ink on his muscled tanned body was enough to write a semester examination; his tinted hairstyle announced to the world that he had no fucks left for suckers.

"Just look at him, looking very responsible" the boy's mother continued.
"Even if he happens to be irresponsible, he still passes for responsible." she added. From the tone of her voice it was obvious she had given up on the boy, but you never know when the Holies of holies will touch a soul.

"So because he's on low-cut and wears a shirt and trouser, and goes to church he is responsible abi?" the boy finally replied.
"What if he is irresponsible? What if he is a woman beater? A drug peddler? Assassin? You don't know these things do you?" he asked his mother. She cleared her throat, pretending to have something there. She wanted to buy herself some time to think.

"But we don't know that, do we?" she finally said after a minute or so.
"...they are just assumptions" she added.

"Yes that's what they are. So let's not judge a book by its cover; let's read the book before drawing conclusions about it being good or not so good." Said the boy.
"You know who I am. Am I not responsible?" he asked.
His mother cleared her throat again but this time she answered promptly
"Yes you are. But..." she was saying when her son cut her short.
"Iya e... leave the buts. Since you know, that's what matters. Leave others alone they can say and think whatever it is they want. It's none of our business. Let them keep judging." he said.

They watch Kelvin cross the road and flag down a bike. The boy's mother still wished her son was like the young man. She silently prayed he would be decent and sane in his dressing and appearance. Because in this part of the world, shirt and trousers with no tattoos mean being responsible, no one cares about your deeds and heart ♥.

©Angel MESSI