So for this round I picked the song Sleep Like a Baby Tonight by U2 from the album Songs of Innocence. I know this song is kind of dark but I wanted to do something different.
MonkyingAround
Forgiveness is a funny thing. Almost ironic, actually. How are you just supposed to forgive and forget everything? Are you just supposed to pretend that everything is okay and live a lie? It seems almost impossible.
I stare at my glass of water as I think. The small cafe I'm in is full of noise and life. Yet here I am, sitting alone in a corner quietly. Thinking about forgiveness.
Many people have told me that I'm depressed and that I should seek help. But what they don't tell me is that being depressed is expensive. It is something that I cannot afford right now. Maybe never.
I glance down at my wrists. Clean. No cuts or scars. I've thought about doing it before, trust me. It was a time when I thought I had nothing to live for. When I thought I was nothing. The blade laid there on my counter, mocking me. Begging me to cut it deep into my skin so that the blood could pour out with my misery and pain. But instead, I kept it all bolted away inside.
"Miss? Are you ready to order?" The waitress asks.
I look up from the glass. "No. I have to go." I get up from my seat and leave the cafe quickly.
The street lamps illuminate the quiet empty streets. I used to love walking in the dark. It was peaceful and calming. Now it terrified me. I jumped at the slightest of sounds. My hands grasp at my cell phone, ready to call someone just in case.
As I am walking, I hear the bells. It causes shivers to run up and down my spine. I hear the ringing get closer until I am standing right in front of the church steps.
My hands are shaking and the hair on the back of my neck stands up. I close my eyes and the memories come flooding back.
My parents were never the religious type. In fact, they hated it. I had only stepped inside a church a few times as a child and I was astounded. Everything about it seemed almost magical.
My parent's divorce hit me hard. My dad left one night and never came back. My mom started to drink and just sat on the couch for days. I don't even know if she left it once. I had no idea what to do. How could I? I was only twelve.
And one day, I had enough. I stormed out of the house. I was angry at her and my dad. Mother's were supposed to take care of their children. Father's aren't supposed to abandon their children and never come back.
I walked the streets alone until I heard the bells. I stumbled across the church. I was curious so I entered through the large doors. It was empty, of course. I looked around and started to slowly walk up to the alter.
"Child, are you lost?" A booming voice said. A tall man stands in the door way. He is wearing a dark purple robe.
I shake my head. "No sir. I just wanted to come inside and look."
"Follow me," he says. I follow him into a separate room with dark grey walls. "Tell me child, do you believe in God?"
I shrug. "I don't know sir."
"Do you think that if God tells you something, that you should listen?"
"Well I guess so. I don't know a lot, but that's what the kids at school tell me."
The man smiles. I still remember that smile even though it's almost been 7 years. I've tried so hard to forget it.
That night, I ran all the way home. I was scared and hurt. I was dirty. I burst into my house, my eyes full of tears. I found my mother passed out on the couch. I shook her, but she wouldn't budge.
I cried into her shoulder. "Mom. Please wake up. WAKE UP!"
Nothing.
"He touched me mom. He touched me. He kept telling me about God and I don't remember what else. But mom, he touched me," I cried. "Mommy, please." I hadn't called her that in so long. And it would be the last.
My mom had died of an overdose that night. She left me when I needed her the most. I never told anyone about that night. Not a soul.
Voices pull me back to reality. Two women are walking down the street talking rather loudly.
"Did you hear about what happened?" One asks the other.
Gossip. I try not to listen but it's too tempting.
"What?"
"Father Francis was put into prison last night."
The woman gasps. "What! Why?"
"He was found guilty for sexually abusing a child! Can you believe it? Our own Father!"
"What a shame. That poor child." The woman walk past me as they continue their gossip.
I guess I didn't have to say anything. He is locked up now and I am safe. I walk back home and I feel safe for the first time since that night. I crawl into my bed and smile to myself.
He is gone. There will be no more nightmares or pain. I don't have to be afraid anymore of those bells. I am free. As I close my eyes, I know that I will sleep like a baby tonight.
