Prologue
It was raining loudly that night; thunder clashed and lightning was seen ruling the night sky. Inside the convent's praying room was a nun. "Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you. Blessed art thou amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death." She held the rosary tightly with her two hands as she wept.
Hail Mary
She faced Mary's statue. The nun's face tilted as her teary eyes, full of emotion, looked at the gracious face of Mama Mary.
"Madre Maria," she breathed. Sweat trickled her eyebrows and the sides of her face. She obviously spent a great amount of time in the prayer room, all alone, crying and praying with the holy rosary with her. She kissed her rosary and rose from the pew. Her knee hurt because of the long time of kneeling there and reciting the chaplet of the divine mercy. But the nun did not care at all; she took it as her penalty for her sin.
Her sin.
The nun's sin was merely to love. She has fallen victim of love when she knew that she swore the oath of chastity herself. It was something that was unexpected, and in some cases, inevitable. It was not her intention, her slightest intention, to spot the eye of a fellow servant in the Lord, a priest, and fall for him. It was purely unintentional. Although she was sure that no one knew of their treason, guilt surged through her veins, conscience bothering her to spill the truth out. The verse lives on, John 8:32 "And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free."
She recalled that night, when the priest was so very drunk, and on that merry occasion, made love to her. It was accidental, none of them knew what they did, and so goes the crux of why she wanted to dispose something, or someone, rather. She bears a child and she knows it.
And now she prays to Madre Maria, who she has high hopes and prayers for, and who, in her opinion, will best solve this predicament she is in. Only Mary can help her now, for after that night, the priest requested to change his parish, and to make himself unknown.
None of her fellow nuns know about this, for she has not yet told anyone of this, that the priest and her had done some sort of treason. Nor has the priest known that he had impregnated her, he left her right away. If worst came to worst, she intends to keep the child and go to a place faraway, where no one will know of her identity. And there, will she build a new life, a new life where she and her child will live peacefully, and away from her dark past.
When she left the prayer room, her knees still ached miserably. She thought of the thoughts of leaving for the States to console herself. As she was walking in the hallway, the windows were open, and the night sky shone its night light, and illuminated the other parts of the walls while she walked to her room. A few moments later, she sensed a strange presence that lurked in the room. She thought that maybe it was the cat that lurked in the convent's walls at midnight, and so paid little attention to it. But then the noise persisted, never pausing for a while. The nun's heart began to pound. Cats aren't able to break glass, because glass and kitchen wares are far from the prayer room. She began to run, because the noise was getting nearer, and nearer, and nearer. It almost got to her, closer and closer. She risked it and looked back. There, a statue of an angel stood right at her back, looking very innocent. She backed away a little until she reached a dead end.
The angel, it seems, didn't look like an angel anymore. Its head shifted and its innocent smile became a devious one. Its ivory skin turned to violet, and its eyes were fierce red.
It's something- no- someone. The nun quickly grabbed a crucifix but the creature stopped her. "Say, let's have some fun tonight, shall we?" the creature turned to its mates, who seemed to be ravenous tonight. They all nodded. "Such beauteous face, you will be missed" a devious smile spread across its face, blocking the room's illumination with its face.
"Santa Veronica," it talked to the petrified nun, whose hands were shaking and was almost out of breath. Her heart is beating faster by the second. "La Tua Cantate."
dedicated to Akila
