Welcome Visitor: Login to the siteJoin the site



Wrote this for a school assignment and didn't end up using it, so I put it here =)


Submitted:Nov 3, 2011    Reads: 21    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


"Forgive me Father..."

A man, clad in a soaked overcoat, trudged in from the torrential downpour occurring outside the church's intricately carved wooden doors. It was late, and the sole remaining priest stopped putting out the many expensive looking candles and turned around.
"Forgive not my boy, but tell me, what brings you here so late?"
"I have something I need to get off my chest, Father, and I fear it cannot wait until morning."
The priest meandered over to a pew, and patted the empty spot beside him. The cloth of his garment was white, and adorned with heavy gold embellishing. It's quality reflected that of the rest of the church. The man stumbled down the long aisle in between the many pews, head hung low, and sat beside the priest. He took a deep breath, and began to speak, his voice quavering slightly.
"I just recently lost my sister. She was a great woman, young and full of life. I remember how stubborn she was when we were growing up. She wouldn't let up until she got what she wanted, and had her ways of going about getting it. It's something she never grew out of either. She carried it into professional life, and became an investigative reporter. The best one around. She worked her way up that corporate ladder real quick, earning her own column and everything, free to report on almost whatever she wanted...
Like I said, she died just a few days ago. Murdered, actually. She was walking home from work late own night, like she always did. She was never fond of cabs, said she didn't like the idea of getting into a stranger's car, whether or not it was their job. On her way home, she was shot..." The man's voice trailed off here, and he was silent for a while. But after a deep breath, he continued.
"The police said it was a random shooting, a coincidence. They said she wasn't picked out in particular; she was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. Now I'm not one to argue with the police. I respect them and all, and I take them at their word. But just a few days prior, she had left me a message on my answering machine. She was working on a big case, a huge one, she said it would make her career. She was sounded really excited, almost out of breath even. She said she couldn't tell me much yet, but it had to do with something to with the local mobs, said it would be groundbreaking once she got all her evidence together."
The man took another breath, and the priest looked upon him uneasily. He clenched the ends of his robe and muttered "Well, that sure is tragic. You have my condolences dear boy. Perhaps we could say a prayer for.."
"Hold on now father", the man interrupted, "I'm not quite done yet".
The priest glanced down towards the floor, where a puddle was collecting from the ends of the man's coat, and the man continued.
"Now I was going to go to the police, but they're busy enough dealing with all the local kids and their troubles, so I decided to do a little looking around myself. In honor of my sister, I guess you could say. So I went over to her house, and found the laptop she would always use for work. I started snooping around in her files, looking for the story she was working on. Turns out, some of the mobs were getting some help laundering money..."
The priest suddenly stood up and took a few steps toward the alter, wringing his hands as his walked. "It's getting late boy, and being an old man, I'm rather tired. Perhaps.."
"Now hold on father. Don't you want to hear the rest?" The man too stood up, taking several steps toward the priest while reaching his hand into an inside pocket of his overcoat. "You see, it turns out the local mobs were getting help laundering money through a church. A rather popular, and prestigious church. A church that has a lot of weight in this community. A church that would not want their dirty laundry aired out in the press. Which is why I'm here father..."





0

| Email this story Email this Short story | Add to reading list



Reviews

About | News | Contact | Your Account | TheNextBigWriter | Self Publishing | Advertise

© 2013 TheNextBigWriter, LLC. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Policy.