Reconciliation

She was a good girl, ask anyone and they’d tell you so. She went to church every Sunday and volunteered weekly at her local soup kitchen. She ran the winter coat drive for the homeless for the past three and sponsored her youngest cousin at his Confirmation last spring. She never got drunk on the weekends or slept around with different guys. She was a good person, she lived a good life. 

She was only 25 years old the night she was driving home from work in the pouring rain. She wasn’t texting, she wasn’t speeding; she didn’t even have the radio on so that she could concentrate on the road amidst the deluge. Her car started hydroplaning and she lost control. She saw the headlights of the oncoming pick-up truck like a bad cliché and felt every inch of the impact as it collided with the driver’s side door. She felt like a tea cup on the Mad Hatter ride at Disney World that had spun loose and gone wild until everything stopped in a moment that simultaneously felt like seconds and years later. The street lamp, beneath which her car had come to an abrupt halt, cast an almost angelic glow when combined with the rain on the twisted gruesome wreckage of metal and glass. 

She had been wearing her seatbelt, but that hadn’t stopped the steering column from crushing her sternum. The chill of the night began creeping in like a phantasm through the places where once had been glass, but the side of her face felt warm. She didn’t understand why until the slowing of her heart started to match the pounding in her head. She became aware that it was getting harder and harder to breathe and with every inhalation she felt like she was drowning. 

Then she saw Him. He was there in front of her brighter than the sun despite the dark and stormy night. He smiled and she felt all of her pain dissolve. He emanated peace and love, and she did not feel panicked by the thought of what she was leaving behind. All she wanted was Him; all she needed was to be in His presence and feel His warmth for the rest of eternity. He reached out His hand to her and she couldn’t begin to understand the ecstasy she was feeling – He was inviting her home. She didn’t need to think or consider his offer; it was by pure instinct that she made to reach in kind to Him.

But she couldn’t. She watched in horror as nightmare chains like those of ghoulish Dickens novel wrapped themselves around her torso and held her arms fast. The links were indestructible and forged without flaw. They burned and crushed her far worse than the smashed bones and fluid-filled lungs she suffered from the car crash. She could not turn round but her eyes found the rearview mirror. She saw him leering at her, his eyes once the crystal blue of creation, now the black of the tar dripping from his once golden wings. His smile revealed the razor-sharp teeth of a predator who has won his kill and she saw her bindings in his taloned grip.

“Oh, my child,” came a soft, sad voice. She turned to gaze upon the mortal witness to her earthly demise and beheld a man outside her window. He reminded her of her father, gentle yet his very presence commanded authority. She noted the clerical collar and the well-worn leather-bound book in his hand, which she did not need to read the gold-leaf lettering to know it said “Holy Bible.” He did not ask her if she was okay and he did not tell her she would be, for they both knew such banter was pointless. Instead he wondered, “Would you like to make a last confession?”

The tears that streamed from her eyes in rivulets faster than blood dripping down her face was all the answer he needed. He sat there in silence as she poured out her soul to him in the silence of her heart. She could not speak but her spirit cried out for forgiveness for missing Mass on those Sundays when her girlfriends wanted to get together for brunch instead, for sleeping with her boyfriend of two years and using contraception because she allowed herself to justify it because she loved him and they just weren’t ready to be parents, for every time she uttered the Lord’s name as a curse. Her confession went on and on until at last she had named every link on the chain pulled tight by Satan’s grip. 

She bowed her head and the priest knew that she had finished and he gave her absolution. In that instant, she felt as the feather loosed from a bird must feel. The chains were gone and angel from hell was sent screaming back to his domain. She turned her gaze once and forevermore on Him and felt her arms reach toward Him in wild abandon. He welcomed her and she always knew He would, a lost sheep who has finally found her Shepherd.

The priest saw the breath leave her body, but the light never left her eyes. From the moment of her absolution to the end of her life, she was smiling as if she had found a joy that no one could take away. He made the sign of the cross and prayed, “Eternal rest grant unto her, O Lord,” as the red and blue lights of the approaching emergency vehicles danced on his face.

A short story by Amelia Weissman.

Amelia is a mom of six with her Master's in marine biology. She has been published as a scientific writer in research journals and as a fiction writer in Starward Shadows Quarterly ezine, Black Hare Press Anthology Year Four, and SpecPoVerse.