Kalis ng Kasalanan (English Version)

My name is Rey Cristanato; I have sinned; I regret it; All I ask for is forgiveness; But what I get is more than I ever wanted.

THE HOLY GRAIL OF SIN

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I don’t understand why I’m terribly nervous. My heart pounded faster with every step I take. My knees trembled in a manner that seemed weird to my senses. And the heavy feeling I’ve been carrying in my chest for years now, have somewhat doubled its weight and is now making it awfully hard for me to finally give in. It is so hard to finally decide to give in, especially when you’ve spent several years keeping to yourself in hiding; especially when you know that you don’t deserve the time given from above.

 

People are scattered everywhere in Quiapo. Everyone had their own businesses to attend to. There are people hoping for luck with fortune-tellers in street corners. There are people talking to vendors that peppered the sidewalks, selling a vast variety of goods and products. There are people making their way towards the church to make wishes, to pray, to ask for forgiveness. I hastened my pace and got inside. It was deeply foreign for me to be able to see the man crucified on the cross, bowed and bleeding, but still addressed as ‘The King of Kings’, with hardly anything but the stain of my sin keeping me from barging towards Him and ask for dear forgiveness. No, I am too horrible to deserve a chance to touch His image. I swallowed the growing lump in my throat. If I knew that this was the sole feeling that would seep through my skin, then I shouldn’t have come. But I’ve been bothered by my conscience for far too long. I have repeatedly encountered sleepless nights, overwhelmed with so many thoughts. And this time around, I can’t take it anymore.

 

The mass ended and the priest invited everyone that a confession would be held at the back. Fortunately, only a few obliged and I was fourth in line. They each knelt down and prayed; they cried for the sins they had committed. And I wholly understand what they are feeling. But I can’t make myself cry as well. I can’t bear that I be given mercy. It’s too horrific.

 

It was my turn to confess when I suddenly stopped dead in my tracks and felt my chest tighten and my breathing almost gave in. Is this how worse my deed has become? At a glance, I saw the priest and he told me to come towards him.

 

“It seems to me, Boy, that you’ve been carrying something heavy in your chest for quite a time. Do you wish to obtain confession?” he asked with gentleness evident on his face.

 

I wasn’t able to mutter a reply and instead, gave a slight nod.

Yes, I am here to confess.

 

May God forgive me.

 

When I glanced around, the priest was gone. It somehow troubled me but I was immediately relieved when I saw him enter the confession box. Probably so I will not fall with so much guilt and shame when I confess my sin. I followed him and knelt down on the other side of the box. In the usual tone he had mastered, the priest said, “My child, you are here to confess your sins, right?”

 

“Yes, I replied. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. I have sinned and had kept it in my heart for so long. This is my first and last confession.” I felt my heart contract and I almost wanted to cry. Almost.

 

“You may state your sins.”

 

How?

 

How do I say it?

 

What do I have to say?

 

In so long that I have hidden myself to the authorities, I have no clue where to start. It’s terribly awful in the chest, but it’s like, even though it’s a terrible feeling, you still don’t want to let it go because you’re frightened. That’s what I’m feeling right now when I’m faced with someone who can judge me and the intensity of my sin; someone who can mark me as a monster. I can’t speak. It was like the wholeness of the dry soil under the soles of my shoes made its way inside my throat and my breathing got caught. How do I do this?

 

I closed my eyes. It’s better to be covered in darkness, in emptiness, rather than I be faced with the reality of everything. But…my existence in this world won’t last that long anyway. What am I still afraid of?

 

I took a deep breath before I spoke. Thank goodness the priest is patient and he waited patiently for me, “I have committed a sin, terrible, and just horribly unforgivable. I do not wish that I may be forgiven, but I wish that I may be heard.”

 

“Please continue, child…”

 

“I admit that I am a perverted man. I give in to the calls of temptation; the whispers of the heart, the lustful desires of the skin. I gave in to the demon’s seduction and I bathed in all the pleasure of human contact.” When I heard the words that came out of my own mouth, I wanted to hang myself and vomit at the same time. I am disgusting. Disgusting!

                “Five women; five beds; Five deceived and betrayed. Please forgive me.”

               

                “What is the reason of your deception, boy?” the priest asked. The question startled me but I shrugged it off and continued.

 

                “There are many reasons why I did such deed. So many reasons…It was bliss for me; because they fall so easily; they desperately clung to the call of their desires. It is so easy, so fast that I am vexed by their desperate attempts to get laid. They deserve it. They’re too liberated and it seemed that they didn’t care about the chastity of their being. It was like they give no significance to the holiness of marriage. Disgusting. That’s why I deceive them, so they learn how to think twice and be clean.”

 

“Says the dirty man as yourself, right?” the priest remarked. My eyes widened. Why does he speak differently? So un-priestly? What does he want to prove?

 

“I’m dirty, I know that. But am I the only one? Same goes with you. No one is pure and innocent, Father…” I bit back at him. “Five women; five beds; five deceived and betrayed; five lessons. I taught them a lesson, because they give in to lust so easily. What do they want to prove anyway? That they’re goddesses that are supposed to be worshipped by men like me? I can’t accept it, they should learn.”

 

“What did you do?”

“Five women; five beds; five deceived and betrayed; five lessons…five bodies. Cold and pale. Draped on the bed; Lifeless, breathing nothing, eyes white as snow. One man laughing; confessing in front of you, asking for forgiveness to the man on the cross, to the man in heaven. I committed murder, Father.”

 

“Do you admit it?”

 

                I stopped. What? Why is he…? Who was listening on the other side? I stood up and in deep panic, quickly went to see who was there. I was faced with the emptiness of a round, black abyss, aimed at my forehead, ready to release and break my skull.

 

“Rey Cristanato, who admits the crime of rape and murder to five women found dead, buried behind your house, you are under arrest!” exclaimed the man in blue. His eyes were angry and full of disgust. His breathing was rugged and fast. I didn’t raise my arms.

 

“Put your hands in the air!” he shouted.

 

“You talk like you’ve been crucified on the cross.” I uttered. “You’re not clean, as far as I’m concerned. Hypocrites. You’re using this place, His Temple! Shame on you for accusing me, who is here to confess, to ask for forgiveness for the sin that I’ve committed! Wow, hands down!” I clapped my hands in a sarcastic manner.

 

“You have the right to remain silent! Talk and I’ll shoot you!”

 

“…and you would commit murder.” I continued for him. “Wouldn’t it be that if you kill me, you would be as dirty as I am?”

 

“I am warning you, Cristanato! Put your hands in the air! You’re under arrest!”

 

“Better that I die!” I shouted as I ran my way out of the holy place. I heard the panicking cries of the crowd and the loud gun shot.

 

 

 

No! It can’t be!

 

 

 

I felt the cold metal break through my chest. My eyes widened and I stopped running. I looked back to the man who shot me, to a man who is in authority to kill me. My eyesight slowly becomes blurred. I felt my heartbeat fade and the world began to spin.

               

                Truly, what is right, my Lord? I know I deserve to be punished. But, am I the only one? How about the people like him who use their name and authority just to say that they are pure and safe from your judgment? What do you do with them, Lord?

 

                Tears trickled down my eyes and at my last breath, I managed to smile. I heard the faintest sound of the police sirens and the ambulance, the screams of the people, their blissfully painful screams of happiness.

 

                “Forgive me, my Lord…” I whispered and fell on the cold gravel; drowning in my own blood. And as I begin to lose consciousness, it came to my mind that while I was busy here dying in regret for the sins I made, everyone was busy living in the horror of having people like me existing in this world.

 

But, really, what is right in this world?

 

Who resides in the wrongness society created?

 

How do we know that we are pure beings who are free from the curse of sin?

 

Because if anything, we are all impure, all the same.

 

 

 

 

 

End.

Author's Note

R-15; story contains provoking issues and language. Open for critiques and reviews. Thank you!