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The evening sun was streaming in through the stained-glass windows, leaving a kaleidoscope of colors dripping across the walls and floor. The cathedral was spotless, untouched by the kind of things that Rhodonite had found herself covered in. The blood on her hands felt visible as she walked out of the confessional, though it had long since been cleaned from her fingers. She could feel the presence of something, something that was watching her. It was both frightening and blessed, both unsettling and holy. It felt like a light was touching her, bright on her shoulders, heavy with the things she had done.
In this cathedral, the Saint Paul Cathedral, Rhodonite felt at home, even when she knew her soul would never be as clean as the others who came and went. Not when she had every intention of continuing to sin in the manner she had for the last years. Still, she clasped her hands in front of her after she shut the door. She stepped just out of the way, so another could enter, and reached into her coat pocket. She pulled from it a long, lace grey veil, which she carefully tied her hair back with, draping it around her head.
It was the same as it was every week. It had changed, since coming to Pittsburgh. Back home in Philly, at Saint Patrick, the priest knew her. He knew every detail about what she had done, what she would continue to do, and every time, he told her the same things. He couldn’t forgive her, because she intended to sin again. The penance changed, week to week. But they also knew her. She volunteered for many different events and drives at the church.
Upon coming to Pittsburgh, certain things had changed. She had started volunteering, had gone to confession every week, and she still wasn’t allowed to take communion. But… the priest there, the Father, seemed far more determined to convince her to change her ways, to try and convey that she was doing confession wrong. He left her feeling more conflicted. She knew that everything she was doing was wrong. But something about how earnest he was… it left her feeling worse about it.
She sighed, looking around the cathedral. Mass wasn’t for another hour, but the line for the confessional was short. She looked over at the line of candles in the back. She made her way slowly over, dropped a dollar in the collections box, and picked up a candle to light. She used one of the other lit candles to light it, a small, if sad smile on her face. Setting in the line up, she knelt down in front of it, praying for a moment.
When she eventually stood and turned, she almost walked right into a young woman with dark hair. She backed up a quick step, almost knocking over the candles. She quickly steadied the table, then looked over at the woman. Quickly, she saw the woman was much younger than she had assumed. Rhody looked her over quickly before laughing lightly. “Sorry about that. I almost took you down.”
In this cathedral, the Saint Paul Cathedral, Rhodonite felt at home, even when she knew her soul would never be as clean as the others who came and went. Not when she had every intention of continuing to sin in the manner she had for the last years. Still, she clasped her hands in front of her after she shut the door. She stepped just out of the way, so another could enter, and reached into her coat pocket. She pulled from it a long, lace grey veil, which she carefully tied her hair back with, draping it around her head.
It was the same as it was every week. It had changed, since coming to Pittsburgh. Back home in Philly, at Saint Patrick, the priest knew her. He knew every detail about what she had done, what she would continue to do, and every time, he told her the same things. He couldn’t forgive her, because she intended to sin again. The penance changed, week to week. But they also knew her. She volunteered for many different events and drives at the church.
Upon coming to Pittsburgh, certain things had changed. She had started volunteering, had gone to confession every week, and she still wasn’t allowed to take communion. But… the priest there, the Father, seemed far more determined to convince her to change her ways, to try and convey that she was doing confession wrong. He left her feeling more conflicted. She knew that everything she was doing was wrong. But something about how earnest he was… it left her feeling worse about it.
She sighed, looking around the cathedral. Mass wasn’t for another hour, but the line for the confessional was short. She looked over at the line of candles in the back. She made her way slowly over, dropped a dollar in the collections box, and picked up a candle to light. She used one of the other lit candles to light it, a small, if sad smile on her face. Setting in the line up, she knelt down in front of it, praying for a moment.
When she eventually stood and turned, she almost walked right into a young woman with dark hair. She backed up a quick step, almost knocking over the candles. She quickly steadied the table, then looked over at the woman. Quickly, she saw the woman was much younger than she had assumed. Rhody looked her over quickly before laughing lightly. “Sorry about that. I almost took you down.”
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