Giggles echoed in her mind; a little girl the age of eight. It never really seemed to stop. The happiest days of her life were encased with succeeded laughter. Her warm face glowed with the affection demonstrated throughout the fragile life. Her neverland. Her oasis. A kingdom. Ruled only by her and her father. How simple it was to believe it could last.
The thin oak door of the confessional slid open, spewing light into the shadows that the slender woman in her early twenties stepped into. Her athletically built body became hidden in these shadows. She closed the door and promptly proceeded towards the kneeling stand, keeping her eyes averted towards the ground. She thought to herself that of the long list of ironies in her life, this had to take the goal. A deep breath was taken, and the fingers clasped together. The giggles remained a low murmur.
"Whenever you're ready," spoke a strong male voice from the other side of the wall. His voice carried a calm patience Yatsuna always found comfort in.
She returned sarcastically with a sturdy voice of her own, "Trying to rush me?"
"Would never dream of it," Matt said with a whispering chuckle. "Besides, you're the ordained one. I've not been in a confessional since seventh grade. And that was with Mary Timberlon, if you recall." He retained that calmness behind the wall.
She smiled under her breath. "Well, I recall it because it was the first and last thing you ever had to brag about with a girl, Matt. I think God was trying to tell you something."
"Indeed. I should have picked a closet. Now, I'm sure you called me to this role play of yours for more than my depressing love life." He then paused his speech.
"Yeah," she gathered herself for another second. "And so you know, there's no bigger favor that I could ask of a person right now. It's..." She choked on her thinking. "This needs to come out."
"I believe you said on the phone that it wasn't the kind of thing one can just blurt out."
"Even to their best friends."
"Just start wherever you feel the most comfortable. You always do. Jeopardy's not on for another few hours, so take your time."
Yatsuna laughed inside. Matt Mathews was the only man living or dead who could do such a task. There were no others like him. Laughter was his secret. Sometimes so subtle and so random that it caught her offguard no matter how tough the times got. It cracked through the spouts of depression she periodically found herself in. He was her godsend. An angel whom her affiliation with was among her most sacred treasures.
It was time to take a deep breath. No more putting this off. The weight needed to be lifted. She began subtly. "My life has...chapters to it that have gone unread, Matt. I don't know...why they exist. For what greater purpose, I've never understood. You're the most spiritually-synchronized man I know. You believe everything is for a reason; that broken roads are meant to lead us to a greater understanding.
"Pain is the foundation for joy. Without it, there is no joy. No happiness. No evolution."
"Evolution...or the lack of. There are some things which I can't move on from."
"Perhaps there's more to be learned from them."
"And if I don't catch on?"
"It's not a matter of catching on. It's the will to carry on. Death is the only thing of which you have no control over. For everything else, it's a matter of choice. We choose our behaviors. We choose our actions. And we choose to not take it."
"I have two faces, Matt. One is the leader, one is the coward. The former is all this church knows of me. The latter is buried. And...I'm afraid to unearth it."
She knew Matt had seen glimpses of this darker half before, no matter how well she tried concealing it. Particularly when she was ten years old and attempted to drown herself in the Hudson.
Her life was that way to her. No ending in sight. No hope of rescue from the nightmares that allow her two hours of sleep. How would he receive the news? Would it be enough to turn enough Matt away? Her one stability that never denied her? God, would she be able to control her anger without his healing voice?
"Sometimes," Matt broke in, "I like to see our world as a thunderstorm. The rain falls great distances and with great force with no sign of stopping until it splatters on the ground. That's the thing about water. Even after it's completely ripped apart, it's still not finished. It simply rises up and readies itself for the next great fall."
"Well at least you succeeded in making me thirsty."
"Come on, everyone loves the water metaphor."
"You dare place me in the same category as 'everyone'?"
"A thousand apologies. Anyone ever tell you that you're a chore to talk to?"
"Only you, 'Father.'"
"Dear Lord, bless this child. For she knows not how crazy her ass really is."
"And that says what about yourself, exactly?"
"I must be a glutton for punishment. Or at least for keeping you out of trouble."
"I..." Matt stopped the laughter in his voice very fast. She heard it too. A whistling sound so sharp that it seemed to march right past them.
The next nine chapters are currently in progress. For any questions, contact me at cryowindgrail@yahoo.com.
