top of page

The Confessional by Callum Norman



Olivia stopped and turned back to admire the glorious orange sunset that was melting into the horizon behind her. As Milo and Alex continued onwards, Olivia was eventually forced to turn back to the dark blue sky that hung ahead. The three of them were heading in the direction of Rohan Road, a misanthropic road that circumvented civilisation.

            Alex looked back at Olivia. Her golden hair swayed gently in the evening breeze. She had wrapped herself up in her buttonless blue cardigan, though she continued to shiver.

            “Do you want to wear my jacket, Olivia?” Alex offered.

            Milo stopped and turned back.

            “Are you cold? Here, take my coat,” Milo said, then peeled off his green parka and handed it to Olivia.

            “Thank you,” Olivia said, but Milo had already turned away from her.

            At the bottom of Rohan Road, Milo stopped, as did Alex, as did Olivia. Milo stepped away from Alex and stood by Olivia, putting his arm around her. Olivia turned to get another glimpse of the sunset, accidentally dislodging Milo in the process.

            “If you want to go home, Olivia, then just go.”

            “I didn’t even say anything,” Olivia complained.

            Milo shook his head, then he turned his back to Olivia.

            The ascent up Rohan Road was a steep, winding one. There was little to see except for dim streetlights, a quiet road and the bare trees that stood beside it. After what felt like forever, Olivia’s eyes fell on St. Joseph’s gable roof and the flying buttresses that supported it, on which hideous grotesques were stood to attention. Moonlight shimmered on the rose window above the main entrance, a pointed arch. The church stood far above the skeletal trees around it.

            “How have I never known about this place?” Olivia asked, genuinely perplexed.

            “I told you it would be worth it,” Milo replied haughtily.

            Milo slowly walked towards St. Joseph’s; Alex and Olivia followed behind him. Olivia attempted to read inscriptions on several of the graves, which were all askew, but most of them were illegible, having been worn away with time. Olivia’s eyes fell on one grave, which dated back about a century, against which there was a bunch of freshly cut white roses. Olivia found this curious because all the other graves looked as though they hadn’t been tended to in a long time.

            When they finally reached the entrance of St. Joseph’s, the three of them stopped dead.

            “Surely there’s no way that we’re getting in there,” Alex said.

            “There’s only one way to find out,” Milo responded.

            Milo turned a door handle and pushed the door: it gave way to him.

            “Don’t you think we’ll get into trouble for going inside?” Olivia asked no one in particular.

            “You can wait outside if you want to,” Milo replied.

            “It’s a church. I think anyone can go in,” Alex said, then shrugged.

            Olivia followed Milo and Alex into the church, even though she was sure they were all doing something stupid. Inside, all three of them walked down the aisle, looking around them anxiously, as if somebody might try to stop them. Halfway down, Olivia stepped away and sat down at one of the pews. Milo gave her a cold look, then he continued to walk down the aisle with Alex.

            Milo and Alex went on to search every quarter of the church: there was nobody to be found anywhere. Meanwhile, Olivia admired the golden crucifixes which adorned the altar, and the stained-glass windows above it, which were predominately green and purple, through which the moonlight beamed. When Olivia saw that there were candles burning on the altar, she became convinced that there had to be a priest inside the church somewhere; or else a priest had left the church for a short while and would soon return.

            Olivia looked puzzled when Alex told her that the church had been searched thoroughly and that there was nobody there but the three of them.

            “Since nobody’s around, I think we should smoke a joint in here,” Milo suggested.

            “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Alex replied.

            “Are you worried that God would disapprove?” Milo sneered.

            “I just don’t think it would be fair.”

            “Why?” Milo asked, sounding irritated; “Nobody’s here.”

            “I just don’t like the idea of it,” Alex shrugged.

            “Fine. We’ll go outside then.”

            “I think I’m going to stay here. I don’t fancy smoking anything, and I’m quite cold,” Olivia added.

            “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to be here on my own,” Alex said.

            “Thanks for saying that, Alex,” Olivia half-laughed. “That really fills me with confidence.”

            “Can I have my coat back if you’re staying in here?”

            Olivia took off Milo’s green parka and handed it back to him; he didn’t even look her way as he snatched the jacket.

            As soon as Milo and Alex had shut the door behind them, a chill ran down Olivia’s spine which caused her to violently shudder.

            She started to feel silly about how uneasy she felt in that church: she didn’t believe in the supernatural; and, as such, she believed that the supernatural could never do her any harm. She concluded that the best thing for her to do would be to take the opportunity to inspect every detail of the artful church, and to reproduce every fine detail of the church in her artwork at a later date.

            It wasn’t long before Olivia approached the confessional, a large wooden structure which had three doors. Each one of the doors had the shape of a crucifix carved out at about head height to let light into the rooms of the confessional. The middle room was for the priest; the other two were for penitents.

            Olivia opened each one of the doors, afraid that she might find a priest behind one of them, but she didn’t find anybody. After having opened the last door that she came to, which was a door for penitents, she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. It was dark inside: the crucifix in the door was the main source of light, though some more light came from the wooden lattice which served to obscure the middle room.

            Olivia smiled to herself as she knelt on the wooden step.

            “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been a lifetime since I last confessed,” Olivia smirked.

            “Then use this time to reconcile yourself with the Lord,” a deep voice said softly. It sounded as if it came from the middle room.

            Olivia jumped violently as her heart tried to leap out of her chest. The voice resounded in her head. She wanted to cry.

            She tried to open the door to the confessional: it had been locked. She was too frightened to wonder how.

            “Why is the door locked?” Olivia asked, uncertain of what was happening and who she was speaking to.

            “The door will open when you are reconciled with the Lord.”

            “I’m not even a Catholic. Just let me go.”

            “Reconcile yourself with the Lord.”

            “This isn’t funny,” Olivia cried. “Let me go.”

            “The Lord sees everything.”

            “I’m sorry that I broke into your church, but, this isn’t okay. Let me go.”

            Olivia frantically tried to open the door to the confessional, tugging at it as hard as she could, but it wouldn’t move. It was tightly locked into place. She assumed that somebody who knew her well was playing a cruel trick on her. The idea that it had something to do with Milo crossed her mind.

            “Who are you?”

            “How do you expect the Lord to forgive you if you don’t try to shed the sins that you have committed?”

            Olivia didn’t answer. She made a desperate effort to force the door to the confessional open, but it refused to move.

            “Nobody should leave the confessional without being changed,” the voice thundered. 

 

*

 

Milo stepped back into the church with Alex behind him. Something caught Milo’s eye as soon as he got inside: he looked down to see that a black spider was scurrying towards him, having come from underneath a pew. Each of its eight legs were about three inches long.

            “Look at that thing!” Milo exclaimed.          

            “Oh my God!” Alex squealed. “That thing is huge.”

            Milo took off one of his trainers and hurled it at the spider; as it landed, it broke several of the spider’s legs.

            Milo took off his other trainer, approached the dying spider, then beat it, over and over, to make sure that there wasn’t the slightest chance that it could live. The dead spider curled up in its own blood.

            “Can you believe the size of that thing?” Alex asked.

            “I can’t believe that just happened,” Milo said, exasperated.

            “Have you ever seen a spider as big as that before?”

            “I don’t think so.”

            “Where’s Olivia?” Alex asked, looking around.

            “I don’t know.”

            “Maybe she saw the size of that thing, got scared and went home.”

            “She probably has gone home,” Milo spat.

            Milo and Alex searched every inch of the church again, including every room of the confessional. As they did so, they were silent. The only sound was of footsteps that echoed all around them, creating the distinct impression that somebody was always near. They turned every corner as though they half-expected to find some kind of monster there. When they couldn’t find Olivia, they concluded that she might have gone out looking for them in the grounds of the church.

            They went outside and looked all over, but Olivia was not there. It was as though she had disappeared into thin air.

Recent Posts

See All

Comments


bottom of page