IN THE NAME OF SIN

THE MIRACLE OF EDAVANE.

CHAPTER ONE 

(Simon’s POV) 

They said I was a miracle. Found in a cardboard wrapped in thin cloth at the parish gates on Sunday morning. Sister Marianne was the first to see me. She took me to Father cadwell, who lifted me in his arms during the morning mass. He told the congregation, that I was a blessing, a gift from God. A sign that our parish was blessed and our faith was real. 

I was baptised and named Simon. They all wanted to touch me. The sisters said my skin was like milk, my green eyes, and freckles stood out, making me more attractive. 

Time flew so fast, and I was ten already. Men and women from various places who heard about me came to me for prayers. Dying men, sick children, Barren women, all came to me for prayers. They believed I was a man from heaven. 

I smiled each time I prayed for them. I thought I was chosen, I was a blessing, but I was wrong. 

Things went on smoothly till I turned 15. The parish held a fundraiser bringing Reverends from far and near. The cathedral was packed and people were coming in and out. 

He came to me, asking to pray for me as he saw something inside of me. I went with him to the Rectory for prayers. An action that changed my life for good. 

8 years later 

The bells of Saint Aurelius rang through Edevane like a promise. Incense spread in the air, smoke and whispers spread over the ceiling. The cathedral hummed around me like a living thing. 

I stood where Father cadwell placed me, wearing the smile I’ve worn for years. They watched me more than they watched him: the women, the children, the sisters in church. 

Look at the miracle baby, God’s chosen, the sacred child. Touch him, and you’ll be healed. 

When I was little, I thought it was all love, but I know better now. 

Their delusion clings to my skin more than incense smoke. I tried not to choke on it. 

An old lady held my hands and squeezed them tightly. I forced a smile, then she whispered “You are proof, that God still speaks”. 

I almost laughed. I wanted to tell her how much of a lie everything was, that the only one who spoke here, was the man who made me strip and kneel whilst he whipped me, educating me on the dangers of “sin” 

I smiled back and said a little “bless you” to her.

When the Hymn ended, as usual, I lowered my head as Father Cadwell placed his hands on my shoulders. A show of love, the fatherly blessing anyone could ask for. His grip tightened as I winced in pain. He whispered: Behave. 

It was firm and direct, and I did not need to be told twice. 

Flickers of camera light made me widen my smile. I smiled so hard that it hurt, but they didn’t see that. They only saw what I needed them to see. What he needed them to see. 

I stood in front, greeting everyone till the place became empty. My smile was still intact. It was a skill I’d learnt over the years. 

I walked directly to the Rectory where Father cadwell stayed. The moment I walked in, I heard the lock click shut behind me. 

My heart sank. I knew what was coming.

Father cadwell come out of the shadows. He unfastened his robes and folded them carefully. Then he cleaned his hands. Holy hands.

“Your eyes strayed away during the Third hymn,” he said 

I couldn’t answer because it was of no use.

“Strip, and kneel,” he said, with no emotion on his face. 

I do it without questioning. I should be used to it by now. Father cadwell’s form of “discipline”. 

The impact of the belt on my skin brought me back from my thoughts. My flesh was on fire. 

The bruises from the last whip hadn’t healed, but he doesn’t care.

I bit my lips as I tried to muffle the tears that threatened to come out. 

He whipped me four times, before lecturing me. It was his pattern. 

“Sin starts as a seed,” he said whilst walking round. 

“We make sure to cut it before it germinates”

Another whip.

“Make sure you ask for forgiveness, for you have sinned,” he said. 

He put on his robe and left the room. 

It was the routine. I would ask for forgiveness after each beating and was made to wait till he returned. 

“Forgive me, lord, for I have sinned” the usual mantra I was made to recite over and over again.

A few hours later, he returned to meet me still asking for forgiveness whilst my hands trembled. 

“Put on your robe and leave” “Stay away from sin boy.” He warned. 

I picked up my robe carefully and wore it.

My room was just in the opposite direction of he’s. 

I peeled off my robe immediately after I got into my room. The reflection of my skin made me scrunch my face in disgust. 

I cleaned the dried blood with cold water. I wrapped my ribs with bandages. I changed to grey sweatpants and a sweatshirt to match. I looked at myself once more, all these for what exactly? 

I practice my smile and make sure it looks perfect. Tomorrow, no one will see this broken version of me. They'll only see the perfect, Sacred child. I practiced my smile more until I dozed off. 

A loud knock on the door wakes me up.

The knock jolts me upright. The bruises screamed under my sweatshirt. A raw echo of discipline, for sinning. 

Another knock, louder and sharper. It was sister Agnes, who always came to give me food this late. 

Father cadwell wouldn't show his face again once I’d been disciplined, to avoid staining his hands twice.

My feet touched the cold floor, as I proceeded to open the door. I opened the door just enough to see her pale blue eyes. The only person who knew what was going on inside these walls.