Los Carnales

Chapter 33: Competition

A/N: Hi. :) I have a big piece of advice I hope you all take. I'm sorry for all the anxiety this story gives you if it ever gets too much, but please go into every chapter with no expectations and completely blind because I promise you you don't know what's going to happen or what I have in store. Don't stress over who's endgame and who's not, just enjoy the story as it goes along and it'll help to not drive you crazy. It's wild, it's really messy, and it's definitely problematic. So remember, keep your expectations of everything low. TRUST ME.

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November 25th, 2007
Sunday, 10:52am - Gesu Church, Miami, FL

"Bless me father, for I have sinned. It has been two weeks since my last confession," Candy began after a minute of defeaning silence has passed since sitting down in the confessional.

She had her hands on her lap and her legs crossed, her short blue skirt riding up her thigh a little inappropriately for church. All throughout mass she has received harsh stares from far too many pairs of eyes that judged her and assumed her lifestyle based off of how she showed up to God's house. This wasn't exactly the Estrabao Cartel Church, so they didn't know her or even know of her. They spewed insults or whispered them to others with her close by, not feeling the slightest bit threatened by her.

Candy covered up with a thin white trench coat that extended to her knees at the start of the ceremony but took it off in the middle and revealed her outfit without shame just to spite them. Surprisingly, she wasn't kicked out. The priest was probably the only one didn't mind her appearance at all: crop top that also exposed her shoulders and arms, hoop earrings, nude pumps, face done up with light makeup, and hair blown out in voluminous waves that bounced and shaped her maturing model-like face. She had the choice to run back home and change for work had she worn something more appropriate that covered up her body, but then she'd risk running extremely late to check up on her territory and the brothel. Once Candy was out that door, she was out for the rest of the day with all her time being consumed by her work.

"Tell me your sins, my child," said the priest, excited to know this mysterious and provocative woman's story as this was her first time attending this Catholic Church.

Candy opened her mouth to speak then closed it when no sound came out. She sighed through her nose and sat back against the cherry wooden booth, looking up at the tiny ceiling. Being told by a priest to confess her sins was like someone asking her what was wrong or what she was thinking about; there were too many to choose from and talk about, although she wished she could talk about it all. Her main sins were lust, sexual immorality, engaging in homosexual behaviour, lying, taking the life of others—basically a mixture of mortal and lengthy venial sins.

"Father, is it all right if I just vent my troubles to you? I'm not looking for forgiveness, I feel like I shouldn't if I'm just going to keep doing what I'm doing until maybe someday I find the willpower or luck to put an end to it all," she admitted, sick of the same routine and of God's disappointment in her that she felt every time she fell back into the same sins she initially repented for.

"Go ahead, my child. Unburden yourself," he permitted with a voice so soothing, it eased Candy's nerves.

"I feel lost sometimes. For a little over a year now, my soul has been weakened with sickness from sin and tainted with so much impurity, sometimes I feel as though I am...deteriorating the longer I leave it unattended or hold off on properly healing it. But that's the thing, I think I'm past the point of reparations. I feel numb to the blessings, to the forgiveness and prayers I receive from people who know what I do and don't approve. I feel numb to God's love at times or his grace—I keep thinking I'm too far gone to even deserve it. You know? As much as I would love to go back to the way I was almost two years ago, I know that that is impossible."