SUPPRESSION •Complete•

CONFESSIONS

CONFESSIONS

My mother had become a cliché stay at home mother. She cleaned, she baked, and she always had a smile on her face when dad and I got home. The first month had been hectic and mom was basically focused on nonstop cleaning and organizing the house. But now all those chores were done and my mother didn't have anything to do but the occasional vacuum here and a plate of cookies there. Of course she refused to walk Peanut so that was my job.

As any other stay at home mother would do, she got a hobby. She didn't start knitting, she didn't take up quilting, and surprisingly she didn't join a book club, although I think she should. She became an active member within the church. Suddenly my mother was in charge of all the bake sales they had after Sunday morning mass. So my mom would spend most of Friday picking out recipes and then when dad and I got home she would make us pick our favorites. I went with the apple pie every single time which seemed to annoy her. And then all of Saturday she would make up any where from three to six different bake sale items. She made my apple pie, the chocolate peanut butter cupcakes that dad requested and she would make double fudge white chocolate chip cookies that honestly were just gross. She made delicious M&M brownies and even once tried to make chocolate glazed donuts with her new donut machine.

By the time Saturday afternoon came around dad and I were her guinea pigs. We tried every desert she could think of. And when that finished we would group together and decide on a final desert. I always picked the apple pie.

The Sunday after Halloween was a particularly big event in our church. Bring your spookiest deserts. Mom ended up making eyeball shaped frosted vanilla cupcakes with red dyed cream in the middle. They looked disgusting but they tasted amazing. I could literally feel the increase in cavities. She decorated the eyeball cupcakes with veins and pupils. She spent hours just making a dozen of them. In the end dad and I had to split one because they took so long to make.

Once we got to mass I slouched in the pew and prepared myself for the agonizing pain I was going to endure today. After mass ended everyone went out to the court yard were the bake sale was set up and there was a kiddie bounce house and a nice refreshment station.

Mom's cupcakes were of course a hit and all twelve were sadly gone. I sipped some water and stood off to the side as everyone mingled and conversed. I was more then happy when it was time to leave. Of course mom had to stay back and help clean up so we had to stay ten minutes longer because she just had to be a volunteer.

Mom: "Honey, I forgot my purse inside, can you go grab it for me?"

I sighed in reluctance but nodded anyways. When I went back to the church it was barren. No priest, no stragglers, nobody, the place was empty. I spotted mom's purse on the pew we were sitting on. As I walked over there I couldn't help but let my eyes wonder. They ended up landing on the confession box. My stomach twisted painfully as I studied the confession box. My mind wondered back to Halloween night. The night when I lost my virginity to Gavin and vice versa. If I hadn't passed out from being so drunk I'm sure I would have never fallen asleep that night.

Thank God Halloween was on Friday so I didn't have to face Gavin the next day. I just knew things would be awkward, I would make them awkward and there was just no stopping it. So I had the weekend to make things seem normal. But staring at the confession box just made me feel guilty, it was unsettling.

I bypassed mom's purse and stood at the confession box. I swiped my hand across the handle before dropping it back to my side. What am I doing? Confessing.

I opened the door and scooted in, closing it behind me. It was dark but little beads of light shone through the dark glass paneling. I rested against the wooden chair and just pondered what I was doing.

Me: "Forgive me father for I have sinned."

The words left my mouth before I even knew what I was thinking. I sat shocked at my confession, just not knowing what to do from there.

My voice croaked and felt scratchy from its lack of use. In the end that's what reminded me why I've sinned and why I didn't speak. So I opened the confession box door and fled from the church, forgetting my mother's purse on the pew. In the end she had to go get it, because I wasn't ever stepping foot into that church again.