Greetings, everyone
This is my entry to #WeekendFreewrite organized by @mariannewest. Prompts in bold italics. This time, I did not limit the development of the story to the five minutes per prompt (I had way too many distractions and it took me forever to finish every section). The first prompt gave me the idea for the story. It made me think about the widely accepted belief in the town I grew up that a "bad woman" should not marry at a church or wear the white dress. Only virgins were supposed to wear the veil and crown.
White Lies
-I am not a good enough grownup to wear white.
-Why do you think so, my child? Asked father Inocencio, as he leaned back and made himself comfortable behind the latticed opening.
The girl took a deep breath and looked up with resolute eyes, as if she was actually talking to someone high above.
-I have been unfaithful to my fiancé and we are getting married next week.
-When was your last confession?
-I have never done this before. She murmured visibly uncomfortable. Then, unable to restrain a giggle,—That’s a first.
[end of five minutes]
-Do you want to tell me about it, your trespass?
-Trespasses, I guess. There were many. It was a long engagement. He insisted that I got through college first. He said he could wait. I could not.
After she told the priest about the first affair, a rather platonic one with a fellow classmate, the girl felt at ease. A heavy weight started to be lifted off her shoulders and she could not stop. She told poor old father Inocencio about the time she gave a teacher a blow job to pass a course, then about the time she did it just for the thrill of it. She later told him about the time she did it with two of his classmates at the library, after a long research night. She did not hear the poor old man’s breathing getting increasingly agitated and irregular.
-You can stop now, child. Pray…—She did not let him finish. She could not stop now. She told him about the time she got so drunk she left her boyfriend at a bar and went out with some strangers on a pickup truck. She came back home two days later, unable to remember how many men had raped her.
-So what do you think father, should I tell him?
Louise picked up the knocked over chair and then helped the priest get back on it.
-Are you ok, Father?
-Yes, I am. Thank you, dear. Father Inocencio stuttered visibly disoriented.
-What happened? She inquired nervously while her eyes looked around the confessional for some clue.
-I am ok. I must have fallen asleep. It happens to me all the time, you know. At my age...
-Shouldn’t you go to the parish and rest?
-No. It’s ok. I’ll be fine. Were you going to confess?
-Yes father. My best friend is getting married in a week and I am her maid of honor, but I feel so bad because I had sex with her fiancé.
-Oh boy. Here we go again.
[end of five minutes]
A tear dropped down the proud father’s cheek as he delivered the gorgeous bride to the altar. He wiped it away gently with the palm of his right hand as someone who embraces defeat after a long battle.
After the ohs and ahs that accompanied the nuptial march there were rumors in the audience. Father Inocencio was not officiating. Some saw it as a bad omen. The poor priest had suddenly fallen into a stupor that had rendered him hopeless.
The young priest who substituted the old man enunciated every sentence of the ritual with enthusiasm as the eyes of the bride shot enthralling spells he decided to read as bridal joy.
[end of five minutes]
Two old ladies exchanged mortifying glances not too far from the altar. The nerves!—One of them exclaimed—to wear white, veil and crown, and all. The groom might have heard the verdict had he not been too busy smiling at the bridesmaid over the bride’s crown.
Thanks for your visit
Hahaha.. I knew it! That scum bag and the old ladies knew it!! They hear and see everything!! I really enjoyed this one :-)
Lol. Thanks, @bdmillergallery. Glad you enjoyed it.
Very nice Henrry! You write great fiction. I wonder how often this kind of thing occurs? And the old ladies who know everyone's business is a great ending.
Thanks, @owasco.
My guess is that this happens more often than people would admit or believe. Either that or I grew up in the most promiscuous society :)
I guess I am a prude then. I would not ever do such a thing, not now, nor back then when the hormones were still raging. I'd have hated myself!
You did well. I doubt they ever had peace of mind or that any of their stories ended well.
Well done! You connected them very well in your spicy story. Poor priest and poor boyfriend!
Lol. Thanks, paisana.
Your story was great. What I love about the weekendfreewrite is how the same prompts generate such different stories, even when they aim at similar issues.