For My Sins
Shortie by Micah “Lone Wolf” Weil

	I’ve never seen the inside of a church. There have been street corner ministers, traveling groups of evangelicals for various faiths, and countless co-workers telling me about the glory of their chosen deity. It’s driven me off, I guess. I don’t understand religions, honestly. They say so many good things, yet so many of their followers pervert it to their own desires - usually against the teachings they claim to follow.
	I’ve just always been shy towards it.
	Yet, I found myself standing at the back of this particular church. It was almost stereotypical; there were rows of hard, wooden seats and stained glass windows of important figures for their beliefs. I can’t remember any of the figures featured here, nor can I remember what religion owned the building at all. It didn’t matter, anyway. I just wanted that peace of mind...

	It was empty. I was rather thankful for that, actually. I wanted to be left alone. With nobody here, I wouldn’t be pestered. There would be no questions or harsh answers; I wouldn’t have to hurt any feelings. I would be left to myself.
	The way I should be anyway.
	I slowly walked down the aisle up towards the altar in the middle of the seats. They were empty, almost dusty. It seemed nobody really came here during the week. My footsteps echoed through the building, making it just a little bit eerier. It was uncomfortable. Not only was I in a place that I believed I was unwelcome at, but the fact that I was breaking the silence made it even that much more uncomfortable. Every bone in my body told me to turn the other way, to leave before something happened.
	Yet, I found myself pressing on.
	I got to the front row and looked up at the altar. It was simple, white marble carved into a little pedestal. It had a white cloth draped over the middle, one with no markings at all. Two candles in silver candlesticks stood at either end. Neither were lit. I looked at it calmly from my spot below. I could never understand what the obsession with candles were; it made me wonder as I looked up.
	Above me loomed a beautiful gold statue. It was humanoid, a featureless face staring at the entire room. It was dressed in robes, ones that flowed down over its arms and down over its feet. It held nothing, save a sword it kept pointed at the ground. It had no gender or species. It was nothing, yet everything. I stood there in awe for a good few minutes.
	I didn’t understand it. There was symbolism in everything - the alter, the candles, the statue - but it was all lost to me. I felt isolated; everything in the church was attuned with everything else in it, except for me. I didn’t know what to do, if I should do anything at all.
	The reason I came here in the first place resurfaced only seconds later.
	It complicated the feeling I was having; the confusion and guilt of coming into a house of worship which I knew nothing about was amplified by the horrible memories, the pain I was suffering in the first place. It weighed down on me, so much that my tail sagged and I fell to my knees. I fell backwards, sitting on my feet as I looked up at the statue. My eyes watered.
	It just came out from there.
	“I know I’m not one of your followers. I know I probably disrespect you by speaking to you, but...” I shut my eyes. “I ask you for forgiveness for all that I have done.” I grit my teeth and leaned forward, my fists bashing the ground in front of me. “I have hurt so many people, told so many lies, made so many people miserable. I don’t deserve forgiveness and mercy, but I ask for it.” I choked a bit. My emotions were starting to get to me. “I deserve to be stuck off the face of this planet. I deserve the wrath of every deity that is worshiped. Why have I not been punished yet?” The tears streamed down my face. I sat back up and looked at the statue.
	It was then I noticed the stained glass window above its head.
	The sun was hitting it, the light pattern coming down onto the floor. It was a completely uneven pattern, done randomly with shards of blues, greens, and yellows. It looked beautiful in its randomness. I slowly rose to my feet and smiled. The light had to be on me; it was warm and comforting to look at. I ran my paw down my cheek. It was pleasing, as if to say everything would be okay.
	I couldn’t spend any more time here; someone was bound to appear and try to talk to me. I slowly turned to face the door and stopped. The light from the window had hit the ground at the right angle to make where I was kneeling the center of the circle. I didn’t know how long it had been there, but it was spooky. The chaos of the glass had blended into shapes of light on the ground. I don’t know how they did it, but a very specific image was showing in the light.
	It was a pair of wings.

	“Micah!” My sister rushed me when I closed the door and gave me a hug. “Are you okay?”
	I smiled and gave her a kiss. “Yeah. I’m fine.” I took my jacket off and hung it up. “I just had to clear my head.” She nodded and walked me over to the couch. “Ya know, I never understand a lot of things.”
	She nodded. “You went to a church, didn’t you?” I nodded. “I never thought of you as the religious type, Micah.”
	“I’m not, Ki. Sometimes ya just need to go somewhere peaceful.” I looked out the window at the sun and smiled. The light was always warming. I’ve always felt a great darkness on myself, weighing my heart down. I’ve wrapped myself in it, embraced it, and understood it to relieve the pressure it causes. In the end, though, it still causes pain. The light? Well...
	“Micah.”
	“Hmm?” I looked at her.
	“Careful. I don’t want you setting off the smoke alarms again with those little wisps of smoke comin’ out your ears.”
	I chuckled weakly. “I was thinking again, wasn’t I?”
	“Too hard. You didn’t hear a thing I said.” She gave me a hug. “You’re a silly big brother.”
	“I love you too, Ki’Taye.” I shook my head and looked at the sun again.
	“Did you find what you were looking for, Micah?”
	“Yeah. I did.” I looked down at her. “At least until I have my next guilt trip.” She giggled and nuzzled my cheek.

	The light burns, but it’s always welcoming. I’m gonna have to remember that.

END
Micah and Ki’Taye are © Micah Weil