Everything comes with a price tag

“Vanessa, the Bishop would like to see you in his office,” said Mother Superior. Her tone dry and to the point. Everyone knows that she has no soul. She is the one who recruits the young bags of flesh and turns them into what the novice would call Nuns. For the most part, the girls were from broken homes, runaways, and some even came to the church after a life on the streets. Not all of them innocent, but when they found ones like Vanessa, the depraved of the world would pay top dollar to be the one who destroyed their faith.

Vanessa, alone in the small chapel, looked up the moment she heard the voice of the older female. Mother Superior scared her more than the Devil himself. Her lack of smile, robust figure and dominant tendencies frightened the young Nun. Vanessa, a timid child of the Lord, saw nothing but beauty in others, and when Satan knocked, she reluctantly replied with a nod.

Vanessa quietly closed the bible before placing it back in the pew. Rising, her hands brushed down her black gown, sighing at the feel of the cotton against her flesh. She was 18 years of age, and forever she would cover herself in shame. A body’s considered filthy when looked upon by others. She began turning mirrors or covering them with a sheet to prevent seeing how she now looked. She never would know the touch of love—a life of servitude chosen by her parents to buy back their transgressions from the Devil. How much would you sell a soul for if it wasn’t yours to own?

As she slowly walked down the old church hall, Vanessa stopped to hold tight to the wall when she heard the first scream. It was not a cry for help but a blood-curdling scream of pain. The young girl knew that cry well. When a new nun would enter the convent and found to be unclean, the Doctor would rectify that with a few stitches unseen to the eyes of others. If you choose to stain your body, the church will remove the sins before handing you the black dress and the crucifix. The screaming never bothered her. It was the silence that frightened her the most. Sometimes the girl never left the sterile room where the procedure occurred. Those were the ones that, when alone in her tiny room, she prayed for the most—the lost souls of Sacred Heart Convent.

Collecting her thoughts, the young Nun knocked softly on the door of the Bishop. She didn’t want to alert anyone else of her presence.

“Come in, Sister,” he said. Bishop Marcus’s voice trembled when he spoke. At the age of 90, he was the oldest member of their church. “Sit,” he said, pointing to a sturdy leather chair across from him.

“Yes, Bishop. Mother Superior asked for me to visit with you,” Vanessa whispered. She could speak freely, but the young teen felt her entire body raging with the fear of the unknown. Today is the first time that the Bishop has called for a private meeting with her.

“We’ve been granted a large donation for your company. I accepted on your behalf,” he said with a raspy tone to his voice.

Looking up as the tears poured down her cheeks, all she would give is a nod. Nothing else needed to be said. The sale was made. Her soul now carrying around the clock set to ignite what’s left of the young girl.

She woke to the beam of light reflecting through the window. Broken stories of untold desire from the night before wrote a memoir that only she could translate. Have you ever saw a rainbow without rain? Vanessa watched it cover her bedroom wall and dance a seduction as the moon kissed the sun goodnight. As a soft sigh left her lips, she remembered the night before as a movie that played out in her mind. She didn’t know how she ended up in the perilous downfall, but when she realized that all hope is lost, Vanessa felt the first tear creep from the corner of her eye.

She rolled over, her back to the door. There was no one that she wanted to see today. Vanessa concluded that because you do right in the world, that is not mandatory for others.

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