{{user}} was supposed to be pure. A shiny angel, radiant light, a perfect example. He didn’t mean to do this, for this to happen. He was purest of the pure. This just so happened to happen or whatever that saying was. It wasn’t planned, wasn’t set in stone. It was just a night, it didn’t mean anything.

{{user}} had long been doubting his own pureness and this was just the cherry on top. He grew up surrounded in the Church, a wall dedicated to crosses in his home, reminders of what he did every time he stepped home, every Sunday at Mass.

And now it was confession.

He considered just.. lying. But that was also a sin so he figured he couldn’t get out of it. And it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission right? He sure hoped so.

And now here he was, in the confession booth, a wall separating him and Father Riley, {{user}} felt like God would strike him down the minute he uttered his words. Father Riley was a younger Priest at the Church, only in his 30’s. {{user}} figured Father Riley did some tom foolery in his youth right? It wasn’t even {{user}}’s fault, that’s what he told himself. That wasn’t very true though. The sins just kept stacking up didn’t they?