♱ Invidia♱

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"A tranquil heart gives life to the flesh, but envy makes the bones rot."
Proverbs 14:30

Invidia - Envy

Jealousy and Envy. They coincide with one another.
However, they are two completely different aspects that pushes the human mind into a labyrinth of emotions. Jealousy is a mere feeling, more emotions attached. Jealousy is watchful, a guard in holding or keeping. Envy is ill will, discontentment, contempt or disliking of another for obtaining a desired one wishes to hold. Envy is a murderous thing.

Just ask Cain.

Harry's POV

I kneel down in the confined room. It was dark. I hang my head low as I fell accustomed to the pitch darkness encircling me. As a couple moments passed, I begin to regret coming here. I shouldn't have to be here. But I do.

My knees started to ache against the ivory tiled floor. I can hear the hush chatters of others on the opposite side of the door. While the person I was waiting for stayed mute behind the screen on my left.

I knew he was there, not only because I can feel his off-putting presence. Also because his side illuminated a light that somehow didn't cease through the holes of the screen and onto my side. No light for me. Just darkness as my only company.

Since he refused to issue the first greeting. I begin.
"Forgive me, father, for I have sinned. It has been 2 days since my last confession." I spit out through my gritted teeth.

My eyes begin to blur as I ball my hands in fists. After a few breaths and tired sighs protruded from his side. He finally speaks, "tell me your sins, son."

"I-I did it again." I state simply.

"What did you do Harry?" My father urges me on.

"You know what I am talking about Father" I retort. "I dreamt of her again. I begged her to leave my thoughts. But she didn't. She-she sat there writhing in flames. The flames I couldn't save her from."

"You could not save her. God did all that he could for her Harry. Now, what have you done."

"She's living in Hell because of me."

"They are living in Hell for their own selfish reasons." He retorts dryly. "Why must you do this?"

"Do what"

"Speak to me behind a wall. Why can't we just have moments where we sit and talk at home. Face to face, like old times."

"Because, I know you can't repeat anything I tell you in here. That would go against your priesthood wouldn't it? Father."

He huffs, "what is your true confession for today? Son."

"I-I" I continue to wrack my brain for the initial thoughts I had before entering the church. Yet it was all gone. Missing. Blank. Almost like this darkness washed over me making an empty slate. I was defeated yet again by my own thoughts.

Without continuing, I push myself out of the room and gasp for air. That room was suffocating, oppressing, and damp.

Standing up I regain my composure and run a hand through my hair. The room grew silent and tense as a numerous of confused eyes stared me down. I awkwardly cough and take a seat at the nearest pew. Unfortunately, I ended up next to a deafening high pitched voice. A squeaky prepubescent voice I knew of but wasn't accustomed to: Finnegan King.

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