Cover Photo: My Last Confession; by Budding Dirt

My Last Confession;

Priest With Me

“In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit,” He recited, making the sign of the cross.

I whispered from the other side, “Forgive me Father for I have sinned. This is my first confession.”

“Do not be afraid my son, tell the Lord what you have done.”

I was caught in the moment so i said nothing for a moment, Then I voiced , “Father…I don’t think there’s any hope for me. I’ve done so much…”

“My son, there is no sin too great for God.”

Father, “I think I’ve broken every rule in the book. Murder…deception…lust…” I don’t know what to do anymore. My whole life is a lie, one big fake advertisement for something I’m not.”

Son, " Ease the weight of your sins. I can hear it in your voice…you’re suffering.”

Emotion pulled me and I started crying, “You have no idea…”

“Son, the Lord’s love is endless, he can forgive you these transgressions if you show him how truly sorry you are.” Father replied.

“You killed or Raped someone?” He asked, voice hardening.

“I’ve killed so many people…” I replied. “Who have you killed? When was this?” He asked.

“Have you thought about turning yourself into the police?

"Nop" I replied.

"But Why?", He asked.

Because i killed those people in my dream_ I have been battling supernatural beings ever since i was seven. What did i do wrong that it's so hard to be forgiven? I can't properly sleep at night.

But hear me my son: nothing is too great for the Lord. His favour and love for you is deeper than the oceans, broader than the universe, and he wants you to know that, to feel that in your soul.” He replied.

Slightly frustrated, I pressed him, “What makes you think that?” I have prayed ever since and no answers.

“I can hear your doubt.” He said.

I'm just tired. I need solutions.

“When a soul dies in the good graces of God, it gets sent to Heaven that's why I'm here for confession". I want to be forgiven before I leave .

The father laughed, “for sure, for sure, for sure, you’re right, you’re right.”

“What are you talking about? Am I forgiven?” I asked feeling remorseful beginning to stir in my chest.

"Yes my son,you're forgiven". He replied.

Thank you father, "I'm fucking gone.”

Is like my response gave him a pause, “What do you mean, gone?” His tone remained the same, a low rumble, “My son don't go?.”

For reasons unexplainable, I began to feel uneasy, a sinking dread that was just beginning to form in my stomach.

I asked him,"Why?".

He replied : Don't let Devil best be God.

“How is that possible? God is almighty, the Devil can never best him,” I said.

Something outside the booth, in the sanctuary, crashed, but I ignored it, the priest drawed all my attention.

"What's that?", I asked.

“Why…why are you here?” He repeated, mind blanking at the absurdity of what I was hearing.

"Who...Who are you?, Are you a catholic?". He was asking a lot of question and i was busy analyzing what was the noise all about.

I could hear the shuffling of feet echoing outside the booth as people began to leave, probably annoyed at the long confessional, but I didn’t care.

Something about this father held me…and terrified me.

“Are you following me,” I asked.

"Yes, my son". He replied unease snaking up his voice.

“I thought this room is for two of us?" Why am i hearing a lot of commotions ?, I asked.

"Just like you, I have no idea what are they or where the noise is came from.” He replied.

The logical part of me begged to end this conversation, but I couldn’t let it go. "I want to know what is happening inside there?" .

Fear entered the father’s voice, “I don’t know. It always happens once in a while ". He replied.

I exhaled, trying to collect my thoughts.

The father was silent for a moment, and then said softly..... ..

I didn’t say anything, the weight of his words collapsing in on me like the walls of a cave, trapping me in their conviction. How could I believe any of this? It was hurting…and yet…

His voice continued shaking, then he released the curtain and turned to the small window. Suddenly something moved outside the booth, a scraping sound across the marble floors.

I made the sign of the cross, voice trembling,

“I absolve you of your sins father, let me go in peace.”

Suddenly, a noise blasted through the church, so loud I had to cover my ears, my heart leaping into my throat.

"Arrest him,don't let him go". A voice in lord speaker.

As the sound faded, a drop of sweat ran down my face.

What in the hell… “It’s time,” the father said. “Wait!” , “Don’t go out there. Please!”

The father’s voice softened, “Maybe this is how it was supposed to be.

And then I heard the curtain rustle as he stepped out into the sanctuary. His footsteps echoed away from me and I slammed my hands over my ears again as another voice of arrest sounded.

I heard the father speaking to something, but I couldn’t understand him, his voice muffled. My hands clenched my pants, and every part of me screamed to look.

I began to count in my head, desperately needing to focus on something. One…two…three…four…

Budding Dirt's poetry is intelligent, musical, gritty in observation, graceful in method. You can see a young man building his house of poetry & music, my writing reflect on building a balance society and making it a home. .

Behind Budding Dirts’s beautiful Brain their is a big heart. a conscientious kenyan citizen, using his high profile for doing philanthropic work and is actively involved in a number of charities.music is partly partilly what i like doing.So lets go change world for a better place..