Lucy lived in a village, cut off from society, and perhaps even unknown. The village of Vrhovita was small; it had about 1,000 inhabitants, surrounded only by nature and a few churches, where believers went every day to ease their souls.
Stories like that did not concern Lucy. She was the kind of girl who did not know how to talk properly with people, could not show feelings, more like she was broken inside. Her only way to escape from the unfair society and hard reality was to visit a small lake, so far from all the houses that even the village itself could not compare to its loneliness. A loneliness Lucy felt and in which she could find peace.
Her soft, long black hair, which seemed as if she never brushed, reflected her careless youth. Her thin figure was outlined by a simple white cloth – a dress that gave her comfort.
One day her father left her. This event deeply shook Lucy's emotions. A whole week passed since that day, but the girl still could not calm down or find peace in her soul. Time could not heal her wounds.
Something happened, something she thought she would never do, something she hoped to escape. Whether it was fate, or her inability to bear the endless pain around her heart, it brought her to an unexpected decision.
On Tuesday morning, around 10:00, she put on a white, tender veil (she had learned from the villagers that women without a covered head were not proper in church). The covering hid not only her strands of hair but also her innocence. She accepted her fate and, full of uncertainty, left her house.
Lucy walked through the whole village. She passed every house, where the morning silence still lingered, and the rooster was preparing his throat to break the endless quiet. That silence made her uneasy, and she could not bear it anymore. Even though the sun reflected in puddles and warmed the roofs of the little houses, Lucy felt emptiness and cold under her chest.
The church had a special effect on girl. It was not large, but under the strong rays of the sun, whose light reflected from the roof and created a golden glow, it showed its modest greatness. The steep cross at the top, which seemed familiar to Lucy, symbolized the cleansing from sin she longed to free herself of.
She did not wait long and went inside. As soon as Lucy entered, she stopped. She immediately felt lack of air, it was hard to take a deep breath. The church was filled with a heavy fragrance. Incense, mixed with flowers and herbs, that Lucy could not recognize.
She did not even blink. Her eyes looked at every unimportant corner, without realizing that each icon in this place had its own meaning. Lucy could have watched the roof all day – it told her the story of all the pains of the church.
There were not many people in the room, since it was a weekday. Girl watched as a few people gathered by the candle stand, lighting a wax candle from the flames of the others and placing it beside them.
That must be necessary, she thought. She did the same. Then she went to the confessional.
The wooden booth, where she stood in thought, was decorated with carvings – images of virtues and animals symbolizing the main sins. One side was open, to welcome those who came with their confessions.
Lucy sat on the bench in the booth. Through the screen, she noticed the man hiding from the looks of others, to keep his anonymity. For a brief moment she caught a glimpse of his eyes. They were deep, dark brown eyes, in which even the devil could drown.
— "Good day, miss," he said, "tell me, all the sadness that troubles you, the sins you want to leave behind."
Lucy felt strangely afraid. But it was not an unpleasant fear – she had been waiting for this question all along.
— "My father died. He was with me my whole life, I cannot accept his death. I still see my mother willing to give up on her own life, but only my presence stops her."
The priest stayed silent for a while. His harsh facial features remained still. He had heard such words many times.
— "I understand, it is a hard case. But death is a phase that comes to each of us. You must understand, he will not return, but he will always watch over you," he paused shortly. "What is your name, miss?"
His words broke her spirit.
— "I am Lucy…"
— "Tell me more, Lucy."
She took a breath. "My father was, throughout my childhood, my best friend, I had no better. In fact, I had no other, she realized. "He always supported me, went everywhere with me, made me laugh and made fun with me. But when I grew up…," she stopped.
— "Go on," the priest said, firmly and without doubt.
She did not know how to continue, besides she did not want to.
— "He stopped talking to me," she finished unwillingly.
— "What do you mean? If you want relief from your unrest, you must tell me as much as you can. You know that when you come here," he answered, unsatisfied with her reply.
She did not like his tone, but she had no choice.
— "I did not recognize him anymore. He was aggressive and completely without feeling," her voice cracked, "he often argued with me and with my mother. It made me terribly angry, and even now…," she spoke with pain; the words hurt her. Every memory she spoke dragged her back to the past she so desperately wanted to forget.
Man nonchalantly listened in silence.
— "I miss him…," endless tears streamed down her face, flooding her fragile heart, "I want him back!!!!" she screamed hysterically through sobs, so much that she could hardly be understood. "I have no one left… Why did you leave me?" She covered her eyes with her hands. Finally, she let out all the pain she had carried for so long.
After a while of silence, the priest added: "Alright, I understand. Thank you. That will be all for today." The suffering girl did not hear his words and did not respond.
Her misery did not disturb him, but he knew well that in this way, nothing would be solved.
She only wiped her face, but still sniffing and sobbing, stood up and left.
Next to the house, her mother sat on a bench. Dried tears on her face – the only thing Lucy found alike between them. She sat next to her.