One Match

The doors of the church opened, letting streaks of soft moonlight kiss the benches faced at the altar. It felt weird for him to be back here after so many years. Singing hymns and drinking wine. The priest heard the door, he knew where he had to be. No one comes to church this late unless he is carrying a dreadful sin, a sin that wakes him up at night, keeps the sheets wet with sweat and his eyes wide open out of fear.

The rubber wheels were silent on the polished floors, he glided as if he was an angel. The priests instincts were correct, they always are. The oak not only engulfed the room in sight but also in smell. A familiar scent that made John happy for a brief moment. Jesus was high above the ground, the stainless glass window making good work to highlight the blood, the suffering.

The faint shadow of the clergyman was the green light. John paused for a moment, taking in a breath. The burden was about to be lifted from his shoulders, his so very heavy shoulders. He closed the door as he reversed into the stall. The shutter opened, the yellow pane leaving the outline of a man of God. It took a moment before John started speaking, the priest was patient, the burdens of men are a heavy load to lift.

"I have a confession Father." John said, licking his dry lips.

"Tell me of your sins child, they will be heard."

"I have done terrible things Father, unforgivable things."

"If you are honest in your confessions, if you can believe you can do better then he will forgive you. And he will take you into his kingdom." The priest said, he was sincere in his faith, even if he has said that line a thousand times before.

"Even if you've hurt someone...killed someone?" John said, the clergyman was not used to such serious claims, it scared him but the curiosity got the best of him. That little jump in his chest. A slither of excitement.

"Tell me more child."

"I didn't intend it, it was an accident really. He was trying to take what was mine." John leant forward in is chair, gritting his teeth as he spoke. "I was so angry, I saw red, the world fell apart around me. He was trying to steal what little I had left in this world." The priest began to feel a bit uneasy, the tension created by John's clenching fists passing through the thin grating.

"Have you been punished for this crime?" The priest said, he has asked this question before and the answers always the same.

"Haven't I been punished enough? I'm losing my faith Father." John whispered, as if God couldn't hear him.

"To stumble on the path to enlightenment is not a rare thing child," another stock line, "if you are truly regretful and repent, then God will see, he will feel your guilt, hear your sorrow."

"That's not everything Father." John said, still unpacking the bags that graced his shoulders, still heavy. The clergyman started sweating, only a little. But enough to show his nervousness.

"What is it?"

"I...I enjoyed it...I mean it felt good to be in control, I know it was a bad thing but to take something for myself...when I saw the blood, my heart raced. I liked it. To look into his eyes as he looked into my soul, watching the fire rage behind my eyes. I knew then that I would be the last person he would ever see." John said, he was fiddling with his fingers and breathing heavily, reliving it in his mind. Even though he was confessing this as a sin, it seemed more like something else, something pleasurable. It felt like a dirty secret, sharing the fantasy with him. The priest was silent. "Can you forgive me Father?"

"That is not my place child, God must be the judge of your sins."

"But how?"

"By listening and watching child."

"God?"

"Yes, God hears all things." The priest said believing every single word. It was comforting to him, he felt safe when God was in conversation, this was his only escape from the nightmare that was behind that thin grating. And it wasn't fear of the man, it was something else. He couldn't predict what he was going to do. Johns voice was passionate and when he spoke of what he had done it breathed into the priest and it frightened him. But God was with him, he was sure he could feel him. But it wasn't close enough, he was standing just out of reach. John pushed his head against the grating, his shadow gaining a little bit of colour, he breathed slowly, every beat of his heart being heard within the confessional.

"He hears the screams? The voices that cry out for him." John said, he rubbed his eyes.

"Every whisper."

"And he just sits there and watches?" John said, like a naive child.

"Well.."

"Did he hear my wife's screams Father, my daughters..." the words poison to the ear. "I did...do you know what that's like Father? To hear the two people you love more than anything else in this world. The two people you would fight and die for if it meant they were safe. Do you know what it's like to hear them cry for help?" John's eyes began to water, the haunted memory tugging on his heart. "I was sat there helpless, I didn't see him, I didn't see anything, it happened too quickly. I looked away for a second and then it hit us." John was lightly sobbing now, the tears weren't however, strong enough to move mountains. "I sat there helpless...I was God in that moment." John said.

"What do you mean?" The priest whispered.

"The car crashed and burned, I was thrown from it. I laid there helpless..." he gripped hard onto the chair that must accompany him everywhere now, two seconds of confusion, costing three lives. "They were still in there. I heard them scream, I heard them call my name. I could barely move, I was crippled as a cruel joke. I could see the car, the inferno. We both sat there that night and watched, listened, doing nothing as their skin turned to liquid."

"Please!" The priest said, regretting he had ever stepped into the wooden nightmare. But there wasn't a way out, John had lived with it for so long but the memory was still so fresh. Fresh enough to share.

"You know what was worse? She looked me directly in the eyes as she died. She wasn't angry Father, that was the worst part. Even though I was so close but unable to anything, she wasn't angry. She just looked into my soul and forgave me. I saw her take her last breath like the guy in the car park. I watched her last breath. An eternity." A tear landed on his lap, a mark soon wiped away. The priest bit his lip, he didn't know what to say, so he did what he usually did. He reverted back to the book.

"I am so sorry child...but they are in a better place now. God was their salvation, he is the light when things get most dark."

"No!" Jack growled, his heart rate increased, the arms of his chair getting permanently deformed. "He was me at twelve, he was me with the magnifying glass, watching as I burned the ants on the patio. God just wants to watch the world burn...and I understand now. I understand why he does it...why he likes it." Jack whispered the last part, licking his lips slightly as if he was tasting the sensation. A small smile creeping across his face. They both don't say another word. John unlatches the container that is straddled to the side of his wheel chair. He loosens the cap and starts pouring the fluid on the floor. He slowly rolls out of the confessional, moving inbetween the benches facing the altar, facing the stain-glass windows. He stops at the door as the container empties, this isn't the first time and it isn't the last. One more time at redemption, but he realises redemption is not what he needed. The priest puts his head in his hands, the smell not distracting him from his new reality. His world slightly shattering.

John lights the match that has been kept safe in his jacket pocket, one single match is all he needs. All he wants. He strikes it against the wheel of his chair and throws it on the ground. It ignites. The flame finding its target. Liquid fire engulfs the clergyman's seat. The stall becoming a very familiar inferno. He watches. He listens to the screams. The flames echo in his eyes. The orange and red branding his soul. He knows now, that this is what he wanted all along. He wasn't here for redemption, he was here to open his eyes for the first time in his entire life.

God likes to watch the world burn.

Time to give him what he wants.