The Holy See (story)

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It began when I had a panic attack listening to an audio-play of Dr Faustus.

Why the hell is there not a trigger warning on this? I wondered.

Of course there wasn’t.

While normal people were looking up every other word in the glossary which came with the play, I was the target audience, panicking like a late mediaeval sinner at the prospect of losing my eternal soul. Fire, torment, torture, never-ending suffering. All my deepest fears. The ones from the nursery. I was three years old again and cowering at monsters under the bed sent by Satan himself. Lying alone thinking about infinity and praying until I swooned that I would be good enough. No one replied. No one ever did.

God was like that relative whom everyone talks about but who never turns up for family meals, and is always out when you try to call. Busy.

That was it. I was trying to please someone who wouldn’t even give me a nod of approval. And his messengers on Earth, the robed men who knew best about everything were no help. “You are a sinner” was their line, every week ten thirty on the dot.

I finally tore myself away from it all when 900 bodies were discovered in a mass grave next to a convent, and a group of deaf boys told how they had been violated by a priest, with parents unable to understand their signs, wild hand gestures which meant nothing to hearing parents. What god would create such monsters.

I opened a bag of gummy bears and found one deformed, gnarled and evil looking. I bit its head off and ate it as I read about an office in The Vatican. Run by The Old Nazi, in the chambers of The Inquisition. Bring me your broken, your sinners, your perverts. I will move them on, I will hide them for you.

My guilt evaporated. The threads of evil ran deep in the world’s largest organisation. Nothing changes. St Paul and his corruptions, crusaders killing Turks, while Saxon monks pray for them in green pastures, indulgences, vices. And sex.

Sex was bad. Sex was the energy of Eve, of the Earth and of The Wicca. Mother Gaia wanting to make love and create more of herself. Wanting to fill the world with pleasure and beauty.

So they burnt all the wise women, and those who could create. And left in their places men wearing floor-length gowns. Men claiming to be pure, and without sexual urges. Men who made love to children.

Eve ate of the tree of knowledge. This garden is a lie. A facade. Beneath the surface there is rot and deception. Layer upon layer of pain. Nuns who beat children with scissors, and hypocrites who read the gospels at mass.

Catholicism is the only religion where the coming of age ceremony is bitterly associated with people leaving the church. The age of reason comes and people wake from their delusion and walk. Walk until their feet blister. The children of God walk away, and never come back.

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