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3ngag3
Supernova
- Joined
- Jan 9, 2009
- Location
- The Pits of California
"Forgive me father, for I have sinned..."
It is a bright and beautiful Sunday morning. The sounds of church bells can be heard as the patrons make their way into a building for mass. They are drawn in by the belief that god will grant them salvation as long as they believe it to be so. They sit side by side, strangers and families alike to listen to the words of the pastor as he preaches the word of god to the people with grace and enthusiasm. He does not know most of these people or what good or evil they have done in their lives, nor does he care. For as long as they are willing to cling to the belief that as long as they come to church every Sunday, God will grant them salvation, all are good in his eyes.
But behind the facade of the faithful masses lay many dirty secrets. Adulterers, thieves, apathetic mounds of flesh. All have sinned at one point or another in their lives. Leonard Bryant was just one of many, though, with his record sheet, it would seem very unlikely that a man of his ilk would be so humble as to pray before God. But there he was, sitting in the back row, alone and seperate from the rest of the people. It was a good thing too. The young man could recognize some of these people as his victims. There was the restraunt owner who confronted him when he tried to walk out on a rather expensive meal he ordered. Then there was the thrift store manager who chased him for what seemed like forever after he stuffed a bunch of clothing in his shirt and darted out like a thief in the night. There was even a young woman who he had ran into on the street in which she dropped her purse. He returned it, but not after using his dexterous fingers to sneak out a $100 bill from her wallet. Surely, if any of them recognized him, they would probably freak out and send the church into a panic.
So there Leonard sat. His head held low as if he were nodding off, his arms and legs crossed and the only sound entering his ears was that of the preacher who was giving the weekly sermon. He contemplated the life he was leading, the life of a no good, thieving lowlife of a bum who lost his parents at a young age and was forced to live in an orphanage for many year until he ran away to live his own life the way he wanted to and not the way some couple he had never met forced upon him.
It is a bright and beautiful Sunday morning. The sounds of church bells can be heard as the patrons make their way into a building for mass. They are drawn in by the belief that god will grant them salvation as long as they believe it to be so. They sit side by side, strangers and families alike to listen to the words of the pastor as he preaches the word of god to the people with grace and enthusiasm. He does not know most of these people or what good or evil they have done in their lives, nor does he care. For as long as they are willing to cling to the belief that as long as they come to church every Sunday, God will grant them salvation, all are good in his eyes.
But behind the facade of the faithful masses lay many dirty secrets. Adulterers, thieves, apathetic mounds of flesh. All have sinned at one point or another in their lives. Leonard Bryant was just one of many, though, with his record sheet, it would seem very unlikely that a man of his ilk would be so humble as to pray before God. But there he was, sitting in the back row, alone and seperate from the rest of the people. It was a good thing too. The young man could recognize some of these people as his victims. There was the restraunt owner who confronted him when he tried to walk out on a rather expensive meal he ordered. Then there was the thrift store manager who chased him for what seemed like forever after he stuffed a bunch of clothing in his shirt and darted out like a thief in the night. There was even a young woman who he had ran into on the street in which she dropped her purse. He returned it, but not after using his dexterous fingers to sneak out a $100 bill from her wallet. Surely, if any of them recognized him, they would probably freak out and send the church into a panic.
So there Leonard sat. His head held low as if he were nodding off, his arms and legs crossed and the only sound entering his ears was that of the preacher who was giving the weekly sermon. He contemplated the life he was leading, the life of a no good, thieving lowlife of a bum who lost his parents at a young age and was forced to live in an orphanage for many year until he ran away to live his own life the way he wanted to and not the way some couple he had never met forced upon him.