Confessional
Stuart Smith
Copyright 2014 Stuart Smith
The thick layer of dust coating the window easily pushes out of the way as I brush my hand across it for the ten-thousandth time. I press my face against the glass and peer out at the street, eager to see the face of anyone that walks by.
Presently, the street is mostly dead. The usual early morning walkers are out and about and the baker across the street is sweeping the entryway to his store. What I wouldn’t give to be able to join them in their morning routine! To be free to walk as I please and enjoy the crisp morning air! But, just as it has been for the last twenty-seven years, I am forced to sit here and watch from my prison.
I let out a sigh and pull myself from the window. I glance behind me and let my eyes rest on the exact spot where my life forever changed all those years ago. The exact spot where my best friend watched, and held me down, as I was beaten to death before his very eyes.
There are times when I can walk into this room and only see the faded chalk outline that marked my last spot on this planet. There are other times when I can still see my body lying there in a pool of fresh blood. The only constant is that I relive the trauma each day, with each scene playing over and over in my mind.
Jamie and I had been released early from school that day. We started on our walk home just like any other day. We stopped at Millers Pharmacy to get some ice cream before crossing the street to hit the shortcut that led to our street. I was just about to enter the alley when I felt Jamie’s hand on my shoulder.
“Rick, hold up.” Jamie said. “You up for a little adventure today?”
“What are you thinking?” I asked.
“We should sneak into the old church on Fifth Street.”
“Isn’t it haunted?” I asked.
“That’s what they say,” Jamie replied, “But who cares? You aren’t going soft on me are you?”
“No way! I just don’t want you getting too scared,” I said, “you know I’m in if you are.”
“Let’s do this.” Jamie said with a smile.
I was scared, I wish now that I would have listened to my gut, but when you’re twelve you tend to follow along with your best friend. You can’t have him thinking that you are a wuss.
We backtracked a couple of blocks until we hit Fifth Street and headed east towards the old church. The entire street usually had a dilapidated look to it but on that day everything seemed drearier than it should have. With each step my gut sank lower and lower. I could hear my mind telling me to run and forget about this crazy endeavor, but when I glanced over at Jamie’s face all I could see was unwavering determination. I knew it was too late to turn back now.
We stepped into the shadow of the church entrance and stared up at the peeling paint and splintered wood that covered the long deserted building. The front door had been boarded up, along with all of the windows, but everyone in town knew that the basement window on the south side of the building had never been covered, and was always open.
Jamie broke his stare and headed for that very window. My brain gave up on trying to tell me to run and instead forced my legs to follow Jamie.
He quickly dove into the opening and wiggled his way into the building. Knowing that I couldn’t show any signs of hesitation, I was at his heels, and within a matter of seconds we were inside walking quietly to the stairs that led to the first floor.
The light that peeked under the door at the top of the stairs seemed unnaturally bright, but like moths we kept pushing ourselves closer and closer until at last, we pushed the door open and stepped out into the light.
That door still sits open to this very day. I have, many times, walked back down the hallway that leads to that back entrance and sat there, wondering what life would be like if I had never opened that door. Would things have been different if I had never climbed through that window? Would it have mattered if I had never agreed to come back to check out the haunted church? Or would death have found me regardless of my decision, making sure that my brains were beaten out of my head, and that I was left to die without ever getting the chance to say goodbye to my family.
Not that it matters now.
Jamie and I slowly made our way through the back hallways of the church, being quiet and looking around for any sign of a ghost. We paused each time the floorboards squeaked and laughed nervously when we realized that it was only us. There were no other sounds, until we entered the foyer in the front of the church.
We had just stepped into the room when we heard a giggle. It was a soft, hushed sound, but it still echoed throughout the entire building. Jamie glanced over at me, wide eyed, and I could see his fear for the first time. We both stood there, frozen, until another giggle broke through the silence.
Jamie furrowed his brow, shook the fear from his face, and started for the sanctuary door. He stopped just short of the door, took a deep breath, and then lifted his arm to reach for the door. Just as he was about to grab the handle the door jerked open and Jamie’s older brother Mark stepped out before us.
“Well, well, well,” Mark said eying us both, “what do we have here?”
Jamie stumbled back and fell to the floor as Mark advanced towards him. I could see dark rings around Marks bloodshot eyes. His shirt looked like it was covered with blood and vomit and he smelled like he hadn’t showered in days.
“I asked what the hell is going on here.” Mark said, “Is that a little much for your brain to comprehend?”
Jamie continued to stare up at his brother from the floor. When Mark grew tired of waiting for an answer from Jamie he turned his attention to me.
“How about you?” Mark asked. “Your brain function enough to answer a simple question?”
“Yeah,” I replied, nodding, “we came here to try and find a ghost.”
A smile crossed Marks face, but before he could reply a girl slipped out from the doorway into the light. Her face was sunken and her skin had an ashy tone to it. There was a ring of white powder around her right nostril. A tight red shirt that stopped just above her belly button covered her top. The rest of her body was completely uncovered, exposing me to my first experience with the female body. I was so entranced with this image that I didn’t notice that Jamie had made his way back to my side.
Mark’s smile faded as he turned to the girl. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back through the doorway. Jamie and I exchanged worried glances when Mark voice started to echo through the building.
“I thought I told you to stay in here!”
“I know, but…”
“But what you stupid slut!” Mark yelled at her.
“I got scared without you,” the girl replied. “I thought I saw a ghost sneaking around the pews.”
“Look, just wait in here for a few minutes while I take care of those two out front okay?”
“Okay Mark.”
“Good. I’ll deal with you after that.”
I turned to run, but my legs did not want to cooperate. I grabbed Jamie’s arm and tried to get him to move, but he appeared to be frozen in place as well. I was still trying to find my courage when Mark reappeared in the doorway.
“It would be in your best interest to forget everything you saw here today, got it?”
Jamie and I both nodded at Mark.
“There are certain things that you two just won’t understand until you’re older,” Mark said, “And if you want to live to see those things I suggest that you make a beeline for the exit and never come back here.”
“Yes Mark,” Jamie said turning towards the hallway.
I nodded again and turned to follow Jamie. We were halfway down the hallway when we heard Mark’s voice once again.
“Wait,” Mark said.
We
both turned and eyed him from the hallway.
“I don’t really know if I can trust either of you,” Mark said.
“You can trust us Mark, I promise,” Jamie said.
“I don’t know…”
“We just want to go home,” I said, “I never want to even think of this place again.”
“That may be,” Mark replied, “but how do I know I can take your word for it? I’ve only met you a few times. That’s not enough of a relationship for me to build any trust on.”
“Please Mark,” Jamie said, “just let us get out of here.”
“Wait,” Mark said as he walked up to me, “I think I have a way for you two to prove I can trust you.”
“How’s that?” I asked.
With out a reply Mark shoved me to the ground and jumped on top of me.
“Jamie,” Mark said,” you get over here and hold him down so I can give him a good reminder on why he should keep his mouth shut.”
Jamie started to shrink back into the shadows while I tried to escape from Marks grasp. He had nearly made it to the basement door when Mark looked back up at him with rage burning in his eyes.
“I said get over here and help me hold him down,” Mark growled at Jamie.
Jamie let out a small yelp when Mark yelled at him, but he still returned to my side, knelt down next to me, grabbed my arms and held them as hard as he could against the floor.
Jamie turned his head and stared at the wall as Mark’s face came into view just above mine.
“I’m going to teach you both a lesson in shutting up.” Mark said. “Just remember Jamie, if you don’t keep you mouth shut, you’ll end up just like this little shit.”
My view of Mark’s face was replaced by a view of his right fist as it came crashing down into my face. It was immediately followed by his left hand, and the right again. I could fell my head bouncing off of the old wooden floors and on the fourth punch I felt my nose break, spraying Mark and I both with blood.
The spray of blood didn’t cause Mark to slow down at all. If anything it seemed to excite him more. He brought his right fist down one last time before jumping to his feet. I thought that he might be ready to let me go, but instead of allowing me to get up and run away he began kicking the side of my head.
The third kick is what sent me into an unconscious state. Thankfully I was completely out of it when he delivered the blow that broke my neck. That final blow that robbed me of my life and sentenced me to an eternity of reliving the end in this church.
I was able to piece together the rest of the story from the police that were milling around the church after my murder. Jamie managed to get away from Mark and ran to the police station as fast as he could. Mark and the girl disappeared before the cops arrived and although they searched for them for a few months, they were never heard from again.
The church doors and windows were sealed with new wood immediately after my death. Just last year a chain link fence went up around the property and a sign was placed on the front lawn advertising a vote on the churches demolition. Jamie came by daily and knelt on the front stoop in prayer. He kept at it for three months; on his last trip he said his prayer, pulled a handgun out from his belt and painted the newly boarded church doors with his own blood.
I can still hear the sound of that gunshot. That shot robbed of the last hope that I knew in the world.
The last chance that Jamie and I had to escape.
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Thanks!
Stuart Smith
About the Author
Stuart Smith is a fantasy and horror writer based in Montana. Originally from New Mexico, Stuart spent most of his early years immersed in any book that he could get his hands on.
As a young teen, Stuart became obsessed with horror stories, mostly Stephen King, and began writing short stories for his friends to read. Stuart also started writing poetry and picked up songwriting as he finished high school.
After taking a few years off from writing, Stuart decided to reignite his passion for story telling by enrolling at Full Sail University to pursue a degree in the field of Creative Writing for the Entertainment Industry. Stuart graduated with a BFA in the spring of 2015. It was at school where he discovered his talent for fantasy writing and writing horror stories based in real life situations.