The confessional was about the closest thing there was to a ’safe space,‘ in his opinion.
Using such language tended to make the young adults among his attendees cringe or glare, and so Father Ariel Iglesias Valenzuela never actually said it aloud.
Still, it was the best label he could think of for the confessional. He had heard many secrets in the small, connected rooms. He’d heard minor stories-people who used someone else’s item without permission or eaten the last snack out of the candy cupboard. He’d heard more major problems-cheating partners and the occasional criminal admitting to a certain crime. He’d heard stories where no true sin was committed-regrets for feeling uncomfortable with their body or feeling attraction outside of heterosexual expectations.
So many stories, and every time he would help them all he could. Offer advice when prompted. Offer an ear to be heard with. Offer support for those who need it. While there are many sins one could commit, the biggest he himself could feel is not listening. Everyone deserves to be heard, and he would make sure that would be the case for all who entered this sacred ground.
That included the new voice that spoke up on the other side of the wall.
“So…forgive me Father, for I have sinned,” it said. “That’s how this is supposed to start, yeah?”
There were several things to note about the other person from that alone. Age. Dialect. Gender, possibly.
He ignored any and all these thoughts as he chuckled and responded. “Usually, but exceptions can be made if you would prefer otherwise.”
A sigh. “I guess. I just…I’m not used to doing this. Not the religious one in the family. That was always Sa-…that was always my grandmother.”
Avoiding a name. Someone he didn’t want to talk about. Or perhaps he felt certain things needed to be kept secret, even here.
Father Ariel only shrugged his shoulders, despite knowing he could not be seen through the wall. “You are in a place where you will not be judged. Whether this is the first of many visits or the only time I hear your voice does not concern me. What concerns me is hearing whatever you have to say.”
There was a lull in the conversation. A familiar feeling. The one on the other side was considering whether or not they should go through with this. Many people, new to this as well as used to these traditions, went through these motions. It was nothing new.
The other voice let out a sigh-a breath they were holding in. “Okay, so…I was supposed to go on this trip. School thing. Dad wanted me to have some time to de-stress, thought it would be fun, signed up and was all ready to go and do it. Everythings going fine.
“Then, the morning of the trip happens. I’m eating breakfast with-with my brother. Dad’s in the bathroom doing whatever. Grandma’s making herself something. Things are going fine until she just…stops. Like, freezes on the spot. I look up from my plate in time to hear her mumble something about toast before she just-she goes down like she just got shot.”
He couldn’t see them, but Father Ariel could tell they were shaking as they spoke.
“I-I ran to her, I called for Dad-screamed for him really. T-My brother was already scared and panicking. Once Dad came out of the bathroom I tried calming him down, but I had to focus on calling nine one one once Dad started panicking because she was bleeding-she was bleeding from the head-and it felt like forever for the ambulance to come. Him and my brother rode with her in it, but…before they left…Dad still tried to talk me into going on that trip. That I had been working so hard and thought I deserved a break. That I deserved some time away, even if this mess was going on here.”
Another pause. They didn’t sound scared now. More like they were tired.
“I…I told him he was crazy if he thought I was going to leave at a time like this. And I followed the ambulance to the hospital in his car.
“Turned out it was a stroke. Doctors tried their best, but…there were other issues. The blood…she’d hit her head on the counter when she fell. Something about internal bleeding and the stroke combined just…”
There was a sound from their side. Hands making contact with denim. Like they had done an over-exaggerated shrug.
“She didn’t make it.”
Talking stopped again. They were letting the information sink for Ariel. He could tell there was more to this story.
“My brother and Dad…they’re both still taking it pretty badly. My brother was always closer to her than I was, and Dad…she was his mom, you know? How could he not be fu-messed up over it?”
A part of him was tempted to say it was fine to curse in this instance, but he did not want to interrupt.
“I drove us all home that night. Ignored my phone and pretty much everything for the day and just. Focused on them. Because I felt bad, yeah, but at least I could function compared to them. I needed to be strong for them.
“And…it was only after they passed out at like, four in the morning, I finally looked at my phone and saw the texts and…”
The breath they took was shaky. It was clear now that they were crying.
“The bus I was supposed to take to the trip never arrived.
“They-the news said it was a crash. I can’t remember the details, but…everyone that was there was dead. Everyone that was supposed to be going on a skiing trip was dead. Over a hundred of people in my class were dead.”
A panicked tone entered their voice as they continued.
“And-and I was supposed to be one of them. If Sa-if my grandma hadn’t had a stroke-if she hadn’t died, I would’ve been fucked! And that’s…what the Hell am I supposed to think about that?! How am I supposed to feel about the fact that-if she had just been fine, if she lived through that day, I would’ve been dead?! How am I supposed to deal with the fact that I…”
They trailed off. Father Ariel could recognize what was going on at this point, but knew this wasn’t going to be the end.
They gulped down any saliva in their mouth. It was loud enough for him to hear.
“And then…the other day happened.
“And now…my grandma died, and because of that…I’m not on Survival of the Fittest.”
Doom and Gloom, Up in his Room
Multi-shot probably
Fucker snitched to Warren.
Either that or someone overheard him having an emotional breakdown in the confessional.
Whatever the case, he knew, and now they all were getting on the therapy wagon.
Yippee.
Either that or someone overheard him having an emotional breakdown in the confessional.
Whatever the case, he knew, and now they all were getting on the therapy wagon.
Yippee.
He should probably talk about things in order, shouldn’t he?
Well, fuck that and fuck you if that’s what you want. This was his trauma bullshit to deal with. He could bring things up however the Hell he wanted.
And if that meant bringing up the snitching priest / failed confessional talk before what happened to a hundred and thirty four of his classmates, and two of their teachers, then so be it.
Anyone and anything that could hear these thoughts would just have to deal with it.
Don't like it? Tough shit. You're not the one dealing with all this fuckery.
Your opinion was invalid as far as he was concerned.
Well, fuck that and fuck you if that’s what you want. This was his trauma bullshit to deal with. He could bring things up however the Hell he wanted.
And if that meant bringing up the snitching priest / failed confessional talk before what happened to a hundred and thirty four of his classmates, and two of their teachers, then so be it.
Anyone and anything that could hear these thoughts would just have to deal with it.
Don't like it? Tough shit. You're not the one dealing with all this fuckery.
Your opinion was invalid as far as he was concerned.
He knew he shouldn’t. Doing it would just make him feel miserable, or worse.
But…fuck. He’d gotten some sort of monkey’s paw bullshit. He got to live, a good portion of kids from school didn’t. All because Sandra’s brain had an issue at the best...worst...most moment possible.
And that ate him up inside. What the fuck was he missing? How bad was the bullet he dodged? What was happening to all those people?
It was a good thing Warren barely used the house computer. If he needed to do something online, it was usually at the garage. At home, it was either him or Toshi on the computer. Maybe Sandra if she wanted to play a game or go on Facebook, but…yeah, not a thing to worry about anymore.
Of course, not like anyone was going to walk in on him at this point. It’s what happens when you wait until one am, bring the laptop into your room and lock the door behind you.
It was a mistake and he knew it. But it was like some sort of siren’s call. It was going to eat away at him until he knew the details.
And…well. He’d already lost his parents in a car crash. He saw Sandra fall and start bleeding on the floor. He was the one to take charge and clean up the mess of blood and abandoned breakfast food after it all happened. And he was the one that had to comfort a man entering his fifties and a nine year old boy over all of this happening.
How much worse could it get?
But…fuck. He’d gotten some sort of monkey’s paw bullshit. He got to live, a good portion of kids from school didn’t. All because Sandra’s brain had an issue at the best...worst...most moment possible.
And that ate him up inside. What the fuck was he missing? How bad was the bullet he dodged? What was happening to all those people?
It was a good thing Warren barely used the house computer. If he needed to do something online, it was usually at the garage. At home, it was either him or Toshi on the computer. Maybe Sandra if she wanted to play a game or go on Facebook, but…yeah, not a thing to worry about anymore.
Of course, not like anyone was going to walk in on him at this point. It’s what happens when you wait until one am, bring the laptop into your room and lock the door behind you.
It was a mistake and he knew it. But it was like some sort of siren’s call. It was going to eat away at him until he knew the details.
And…well. He’d already lost his parents in a car crash. He saw Sandra fall and start bleeding on the floor. He was the one to take charge and clean up the mess of blood and abandoned breakfast food after it all happened. And he was the one that had to comfort a man entering his fifties and a nine year old boy over all of this happening.
How much worse could it get?
Maybe it should’ve been expected. After they broke up, the tension between them was always visible. So thick you could cut it with a-
Fuck, fuck, fuck you brain for going to that first, what the Hell, that was fucked up, he was absolutely going to Hell whenever he died, Christ on a bicycle.
But…on topic…could it really get to that so quickly?
Like-fuck, man. One relationship goes bad and suddenly a guy’s got a concussion so bad his ex-girlfriend decides she needs to mercy kill him before she turns into a sobbing mess.
It wasn’t him. Couldn’t have ever been him. But it hurt like Hell to see it all the same.
Fuck, fuck, fuck you brain for going to that first, what the Hell, that was fucked up, he was absolutely going to Hell whenever he died, Christ on a bicycle.
But…on topic…could it really get to that so quickly?
Like-fuck, man. One relationship goes bad and suddenly a guy’s got a concussion so bad his ex-girlfriend decides she needs to mercy kill him before she turns into a sobbing mess.
It wasn’t him. Couldn’t have ever been him. But it hurt like Hell to see it all the same.
She hadn’t even made it through the first day.
Hell, she hadn’t even woken up before she was dead.
She was just lying in a bed and some girl took the weird knife out of her bag and cut her throat open.
Just like that.
A life ended before she even had a chance.
It wasn’t him. And he preferred thinking it couldn’t have been him, because he didn’t want to think about the other option.
Hell, she hadn’t even woken up before she was dead.
She was just lying in a bed and some girl took the weird knife out of her bag and cut her throat open.
Just like that.
A life ended before she even had a chance.
It wasn’t him. And he preferred thinking it couldn’t have been him, because he didn’t want to think about the other option.
He hadn’t even been paying attention when it happened.
One second, he’s trying to keep from hurling into a trash can over a guy getting his eyes seriously fucked up as another dude starts screaming. The next second, the screaming just. Stops.
Not like it was winding down. Not like he was just succumbing to tears and turning it into wailing sobs. But abruptly getting cut off. Like he’d gotten smacked, or shot or something.
But there weren’t any gunshots. No build-up to someone punching someone else. Just screaming, then nothing.
And when he looked at the screen again, only three people were in the area. The fourth was missing.
The guy that had been trying to help the newly blind dude.
It wasn’t him. Didn’t think it could be him, now that he was rethinking his stance on helping people he didn’t know, even in emergencies.
One second, he’s trying to keep from hurling into a trash can over a guy getting his eyes seriously fucked up as another dude starts screaming. The next second, the screaming just. Stops.
Not like it was winding down. Not like he was just succumbing to tears and turning it into wailing sobs. But abruptly getting cut off. Like he’d gotten smacked, or shot or something.
But there weren’t any gunshots. No build-up to someone punching someone else. Just screaming, then nothing.
And when he looked at the screen again, only three people were in the area. The fourth was missing.
The guy that had been trying to help the newly blind dude.
It wasn’t him. Didn’t think it could be him, now that he was rethinking his stance on helping people he didn’t know, even in emergencies.
He knew he was dead no matter what.
It didn’t matter that so many people had found him before he died. You don’t get your skull cracked open with a rock and just get a chance to walk it off. Especially when you’re in the middle of a situation like that.
So it was no use hoping. No use expecting anything different. Not unless you wanted to make yourself upset.
The final words threw him for a loop, though. He could tell what it was from-Romeo wasn’t exactly a common name after all-but it still felt weird to hear a guy quote Shakespeare before biting it.
It wasn’t him. Definitely couldn’t have been him. Not when the most he could quote was what any random schmuck could do.
It didn’t matter that so many people had found him before he died. You don’t get your skull cracked open with a rock and just get a chance to walk it off. Especially when you’re in the middle of a situation like that.
So it was no use hoping. No use expecting anything different. Not unless you wanted to make yourself upset.
The final words threw him for a loop, though. He could tell what it was from-Romeo wasn’t exactly a common name after all-but it still felt weird to hear a guy quote Shakespeare before biting it.
It wasn’t him. Definitely couldn’t have been him. Not when the most he could quote was what any random schmuck could do.
It sounded like a hiss as he sucked in a breath at the sight.
It was all so sudden. So quick.
They were talking. One girl fell. The other raised her weapon. Then seemed to rethink it. But the first girl already panicked.
And then, the first person in the eighth version of high schoolers being forced to kill each other got their second kill.
He didn’t know what the now dead girl’s thoughts were. Why she raised her weapon. Why she seemed to regret it before she even brought it down. It was all gone, forever lost the second that knife penetrated her neck. He knew one thing though.
It wasn’t him. Maybe it could’ve been, but it wasn’t, and that was what he’d focus on for now.
It was all so sudden. So quick.
They were talking. One girl fell. The other raised her weapon. Then seemed to rethink it. But the first girl already panicked.
And then, the first person in the eighth version of high schoolers being forced to kill each other got their second kill.
He didn’t know what the now dead girl’s thoughts were. Why she raised her weapon. Why she seemed to regret it before she even brought it down. It was all gone, forever lost the second that knife penetrated her neck. He knew one thing though.
It wasn’t him. Maybe it could’ve been, but it wasn’t, and that was what he’d focus on for now.
He wouldn’t lie, even if no one would ever really ask-he was rooting for one girl to kill the other.
It was natural though, right? The blonde had already killed someone. Not some sort of justified ”if I hadn’t done it I would have died” crap. Wasn’t even awake from the drugging before her throat was sliced open.
Other girl, meanwhile, hadn’t done shit. At least nothing bad enough to get his ire. So common sense ruled that she deserved to live. And the end result…
Fucking Hell it was brutal.
He wasn’t surprised when the winner of the battle struggled to even leave the scene. She looked like shit after it all. He half expected her to keel over not long after. Even if she didn’t, it didn’t change the sinking feeling in his gut.
It wasn’t him. Couldn’t have been him, he thought, with all his training-he wouldn’t have lost the fight. He wouldn’t have died.
It was natural though, right? The blonde had already killed someone. Not some sort of justified ”if I hadn’t done it I would have died” crap. Wasn’t even awake from the drugging before her throat was sliced open.
Other girl, meanwhile, hadn’t done shit. At least nothing bad enough to get his ire. So common sense ruled that she deserved to live. And the end result…
Fucking Hell it was brutal.
He wasn’t surprised when the winner of the battle struggled to even leave the scene. She looked like shit after it all. He half expected her to keel over not long after. Even if she didn’t, it didn’t change the sinking feeling in his gut.
It wasn’t him. Couldn’t have been him, he thought, with all his training-he wouldn’t have lost the fight. He wouldn’t have died.
He had gasped when the knife suddenly shot through the air.
Could you fucking blame him, though?! Knives weren’t supposed to do that! They’re supposed to stay connected to their handles! Seeing a blade fly through the air was like if a gun was used to stab someone-something that should be fucking impossible!
And yet, there it was, soaring right into a guy’s midsection and making him bleed out.
And as one guy tried and failed to save him, and another asked for the now dead guy’s belongings, he could only sit and stare, slowly closing his mouth after his jaw had dropped.
It wasn’t him. Could it have been him? He struggled to think of why it couldn’t until he decided to move on to the next video.
Could you fucking blame him, though?! Knives weren’t supposed to do that! They’re supposed to stay connected to their handles! Seeing a blade fly through the air was like if a gun was used to stab someone-something that should be fucking impossible!
And yet, there it was, soaring right into a guy’s midsection and making him bleed out.
And as one guy tried and failed to save him, and another asked for the now dead guy’s belongings, he could only sit and stare, slowly closing his mouth after his jaw had dropped.
It wasn’t him. Could it have been him? He struggled to think of why it couldn’t until he decided to move on to the next video.
He didn’t know what to feel as he watched the girl fall from the shot.
On one hand, she clearly wasn’t a good person. Whether or not her sister felt things for other girls didn’t matter. That language was worthy of a sucker punch, and that’s the nicer option when factoring in the attempted murder. She might’ve deserved her eye getting so fucked up.
On the other hand, actually watching her die…felt bad, somehow. Maybe it was the pleading before the end? The struggle just seeming…pathetic? The girl who would ultimately be her murderer apologizing not to her, but to her sister? The whole combination of it all?
He didn’t know. Another thing he supposed he would never know. But at least there was what he did know.
It wasn’t him. Couldn’t have ever been him. He didn’t get involved in stupid school shit, and this situation only justified it.
On one hand, she clearly wasn’t a good person. Whether or not her sister felt things for other girls didn’t matter. That language was worthy of a sucker punch, and that’s the nicer option when factoring in the attempted murder. She might’ve deserved her eye getting so fucked up.
On the other hand, actually watching her die…felt bad, somehow. Maybe it was the pleading before the end? The struggle just seeming…pathetic? The girl who would ultimately be her murderer apologizing not to her, but to her sister? The whole combination of it all?
He didn’t know. Another thing he supposed he would never know. But at least there was what he did know.
It wasn’t him. Couldn’t have ever been him. He didn’t get involved in stupid school shit, and this situation only justified it.
He nearly yelled aloud when the bat made contact with her skull.
Maybe nearly wasn’t the right word. He almost yelled “JESUS!” but only said the first two letters at a middling volume, then remembered what he was doing, and when he was doing it, and said the rest under his breath. So it was more “JE-sus…”
But…fuck, man. Even after the other deaths, this one just seemed worse. Like, a combination of all the worst details of others.
The suddenness of the guy getting a knife shot at him. The brutality of the girl fighting one of the first murderers. The pointless feeling of the guy getting punched off a cliff and to his death. The horror of the sister who was still alive, but could only fumble and cry in her last moments.
He stopped the video before it got to the end. The girl deserved better than to be seen like this. Her last moments looking straight out of some fucked up horror movie. All because she was pissed over being tased and robbed.
It wasn’t him. He hoped it couldn’t have been him, that he would’ve been more alert about his surroundings. But he didn’t feel as certain as he would’ve liked.
Maybe nearly wasn’t the right word. He almost yelled “JESUS!” but only said the first two letters at a middling volume, then remembered what he was doing, and when he was doing it, and said the rest under his breath. So it was more “JE-sus…”
But…fuck, man. Even after the other deaths, this one just seemed worse. Like, a combination of all the worst details of others.
The suddenness of the guy getting a knife shot at him. The brutality of the girl fighting one of the first murderers. The pointless feeling of the guy getting punched off a cliff and to his death. The horror of the sister who was still alive, but could only fumble and cry in her last moments.
He stopped the video before it got to the end. The girl deserved better than to be seen like this. Her last moments looking straight out of some fucked up horror movie. All because she was pissed over being tased and robbed.
It wasn’t him. He hoped it couldn’t have been him, that he would’ve been more alert about his surroundings. But he didn’t feel as certain as he would’ve liked.
He’ll be real. He couldn’t help whispering ”What the fuck” under his breath, once she walked away from the scene.
Because he really wasn’t sure what to think. What did he just watch? One moment, the school annoyance is stuck in a ditch as some pissed off girl is walking by, the next she’s falling in said ditch as well, accidentally stabbing the guy, and finally she takes the knife out, before going ahead and turning him into a pincushion.
It felt like a comedy of errors almost. Except no one was laughing. Would that be a tragedy of errors, then? Fuck if he knew. The fact that he knew the concept of a comedy of errors alone surprised him.
It was sudden. Fucked up. Enough that even the girl who did it seemed like she just got PTSD from it all. He couldn’t blame her, even if he didn’t think it was okay.
It wasn’t him. It couldn’t have been him, so long as he was still able to dig himself out of a hole.
Because he really wasn’t sure what to think. What did he just watch? One moment, the school annoyance is stuck in a ditch as some pissed off girl is walking by, the next she’s falling in said ditch as well, accidentally stabbing the guy, and finally she takes the knife out, before going ahead and turning him into a pincushion.
It felt like a comedy of errors almost. Except no one was laughing. Would that be a tragedy of errors, then? Fuck if he knew. The fact that he knew the concept of a comedy of errors alone surprised him.
It was sudden. Fucked up. Enough that even the girl who did it seemed like she just got PTSD from it all. He couldn’t blame her, even if he didn’t think it was okay.
It wasn’t him. It couldn’t have been him, so long as he was still able to dig himself out of a hole.
He wanted to strangle the bastard.
Maybe he saw things from his point of view before. Keeping it to just the two of them was the safer option. He’d already seen a few people die because they hadn’t gone down that road.
But this shit? That is his retaliation to this argument? Strangling his girlfriend to death with barbed wire?!
The guy better pray he didn’t make it home. That someone shot him in the face or stabbed in the heart. Otherwise he was making this public information around Salem. Fuck it, anywhere he could spread it, he would try to.
He might come home, but not to the life he had before.
It wasn’t him. Couldn’t have ever been. Even if he ever started dating, he wouldn’t have gotten fucked over by a psycho like that.
Maybe he saw things from his point of view before. Keeping it to just the two of them was the safer option. He’d already seen a few people die because they hadn’t gone down that road.
But this shit? That is his retaliation to this argument? Strangling his girlfriend to death with barbed wire?!
The guy better pray he didn’t make it home. That someone shot him in the face or stabbed in the heart. Otherwise he was making this public information around Salem. Fuck it, anywhere he could spread it, he would try to.
He might come home, but not to the life he had before.
It wasn’t him. Couldn’t have ever been. Even if he ever started dating, he wouldn’t have gotten fucked over by a psycho like that.