Confessions-Personal Narrative

Confession “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” I began slowly, “It has been two months since my last confession,” picking up the pace as the familiar rhythm and motions overcame the meaning of the words. Recalling the familiar script, I recited the words to the beige screen that separated me from the priest. My eye stared ahead blankly, and my mind wandered to the beginning of an ache forming in my knees. As the script came to an end, I shifted my weight, hoping to stave off the coming discomfort. Between the rehearsed and improvised, silence hung in the air. “Frank? Are there any sins you’d like to confess?” Father David asked, his voice tinged with impatience. “Y-yeah, a few,” I muttered, still weighing the benefits of confessing …show more content…
I can only absolve you for what you tell me,” he quipped from behind the fabric screen, his voice detached and uninterested. “I’ve lied,” I began, unsure of the lies being confessed, but I continued, certain that there must have been something. “I made up an excuse for homework,” I guessed, still not positive if the confession was for something remembered or imagined, “but really, I’m just lazy, I think,” I added onto the end, hoping the half-baked self-awareness would constitute contrition for the unspoken sins. “Well, since you said that the last time we spoke, I can only assume you’ve failed to complete your penance,” the invisible judgmental voice said from behind the division. “Or, as we’ve discussed before, you’re lying in the confessional,” he continued, recalling the previous discussions held in this room: lessons on the sanctity of confession, the confidentiality of confessions, and the importance of completing my penance. “Yes, Father,” I conceded, again shifting my knees, hoping for some form of comfort as guilt settled onto my shoulders. “I just don’t know how to do this,” I sighed, gesturing around myself to the unseeing party. I knew what I wanted to say, but the fear was outweighing benefits of