We Express Ourseleves Through Sin

I jammed my key into the door's lock, trying to turn it. Nothing happened. Again and again I jammed the metal back and fourth to no avail. After a few minutes of stuffing different keys into the mechanism, thinking I might have had a dense moment and forgot which key was which, nothing worked. Last resort , I shuffled down to Mrs. Beckett's door, knocking lightly and standing back.
"Oh god dammit.." I heard the hoarse whisper as the noise of her recliner arguing her escape was heard. The door flew open and the woman stood back.
"Oh so now you come back. I figured since you never had the time for my notes, I'd let the officials handle you neglecting the rent. " she nodded.
"Mrs. Beckett." I growled curtly "You know when I get paid and you know that shit is hard. I'm fucking trying. In fact, in fact I have your damn money right now. You want it?" I shook the envelope at her angrily, not paying any attention to what side I was holding as the cash flopped onto the floor. I stooped down to pick it up, as angrily as you possibly do so, holding the stack in front of me again. The ebony woman's eyes widened as she stared at the layers of paper, confused, I looked at my hand only to be shocked as well. The stack was at least two and a half inches tall and every note bore Benjamin Franklin's face. Hundreds, and hundreds..
"You know what?" I said, snapping the pile against my hand with the realization. "Fuck you, and fuck this shitty place. Give me the keys to get my things and I'll be fucking gone."
The woman's eyes hadn't left the stack. "I'm sure we could figure something out.." she muttered, "Just-"
"No." I laughed, backing up. "Fuck. You." I raised my middle finger, turning to the old, worn, door that I used to live behind. "Are you going to hand over the key, or am I going to have to kick this fucker down?" I smirked, gesturing to the peeling paint.
The woman's eyes narrowed as she turned to the hooks by the doorway, grabbing the newest looking one and holding it out. I took it in one sharp grab and unlocked the door.
"Goodnight Mrs. Beckett! Expect me out by tomorrow!" I called in mock cheer, shuffling the box from the Brass Monkey through the door with me and slamming it in my own version of 'the last word'.
~
I put the last box on the hand-truck and started yanking it down the stairs out to the sidewalk. My poor car was bugling with boxes and house things. The last two were thrown onto the passengers seat and I walked to the drivers and took of down the road. Wednesday mass should be starting anytime now.
~
Mass ended quicker than I had liked as i sat at in my spot at the last row. The confessional was open for business and I watched people make a line, nervously wringing their hands all the way to the front or ushering their children in to speak. Each one took a total of five minutes and after they knelt at to pray. With each passing person, I wandered a little closer to the wooden box. After a while, I was the only one left in the place the line had been. I sighed and opened the door, stepping in.
"Oh shit.. how does this even go?" I muttered to myself, looking around the dark enclosure.
"I believe it goes 'forgive me father-"
"Yeah yeah that... forgive me father, for I have sinned." I held back a laugh and pulled my feet onto the bench with me.
"Normally you would tell me how long it has been since you last confessed. And what is it you have done, my child?" he questioned. Plenty...
"I haven't. Obviously..." I replied, playing with the laces of my creepers "I think I'll confess to the sin that is greed. You see, I have a whole metric shit ton of money I came across recently and I must have passed over a hundred places I could have donated to on the way here.. I wouldn't really know because I was speeding... that's got to be some kind of sin as well."
"My child-"
"I wasn't done."
"My apologies, continue."
"The last sin I must confess.. is lust." I sighed loudly, dramatically. "I lust for a man that is out of reach."
"You can tell me anything my child, the confessional is a sacred place."
"I lust for a man of the cloth."
A short breathy squeak came from the other side of the thin wall.

Notes