Work Text:
When people were in need, they often came to the church seeking help. Much of the time She could provide it in some form or another.
Father John had seen how people could be helped by the church, in both tangible and intangible ways. He was often the one called upon to help people, as was part of his vocation as a priest. From spiritual guidance to helping a parishioner rebuild a fence after it was downed by a storm, the flock of his church was never short of things he could assist with.
Some problems were more delicate than others, however. Not as easy to fix as a simple broken fence.
That was his situation with Mariam.
Mariam was a young lady he’d known for a few years. She’d been active in the youth ministry since her sophomore year of high school, and was graduating this semester. Father John had come to know her there well, along with in her service as an altar server.
In all this, she appeared to be a well rounded and stable teen going through high school and now preparing for college. She was always happy to help and serve with kind eyes and a sweet smile. But he knew just how much she hurt.
Part of his job as a priest was to hear the confessions of his flock and offer forgiveness and penance for their sins. In turn, the priests are sworn to absolute secrecy. They cannot disclose any details of any confession to anyone ever under pain of excommunication and laicization(essentially de-priesting).
Mariam was an avid penitent, and her confessions revealed so much more pain than one could ever assume she had.
From self harm and suicidal thoughts and ideation to same sex attraction(though she said that this wasn’t really a point of tension for her anymore), she’d revealed a lot of hurt to him.
Father John had offered a listening ear and gentle advice to talk to someone about it or seek counseling, which for many months she admonished before eventually seeking help.
It wasn’t uncommon for her to be at daily mass, so he wasn’t surprised to see her at the noon celebration.
What was a bit concerning was the more evident pain in her eyes. He’d seen it when he had heard her confessions, one of the few places she took off the mask of constant happiness and could let go, but it wasn’t typical to see her wearing it out and about.
Father John celebrated mass as normal, and afterward stayed in the back to greet parishioners and briefly talk to anyone who wanted to.
Mariam stayed in her pew for a while, only getting up as the flow of parishioners slowed to one every few minutes.
“Hello, Mariam,” he greeted as she walked toward the exit.
It took her a moment to respond, her mind clearly not all the way present.
She blinked a few times before offering a soft smile.
“Hi Father.” She said blankly, her voice not in line with the smile she’d just given.
Father John tilted his head a moment, deciding how to continue. “Don’t you have school today?” He asked.
“No, senior skip day.” She responded.
“Ah, yes…a tradition your generation has upheld.”
He paused again, deciding to press her a bit. “Mariam, you seem a bit…off. Are you alright?” He asked.
He phrased his words carefully, not wanting to scare her off. Mariam’s eyes flitted up to his face a moment, than to the floor nervously for a second.
“I…” she started to say, beginning to fiddle with her bracelet, a nervous habit of hers he’d noticed over the years.
She looked back at him and met his eyes. “Not…no….” Her voice was more of a wince as she spoke, her eyes becoming a bit glossy with tears.
Father John took a small step closer. “Hey, hey, it’s alright. Do you want to talk about it?”
Mariam looked up at him and nodded before looking around. “But…not here…” she whispered.
He nodded understandingly and lowered his voice a bit. “Alright, that’s okay, we can speak in my office if you’d like.”
Mariam nodded, obviously fighting to keep her tears from falling. “Okay, why don’t you take a seat right here for a minute while I get out of my vestments?” He gestured to a bench next to the door, “I’ll be out in just a moment, I promise.”
Mariam nodded and took a seat on the bench while Father John started toward the sacristy. He had a feeling he knew what she was going to talk with him about, but he was still concerned and wanted to listen to her.
He took off his vestments and met her back at the bench before leading her outside and into a building beside the church that housed his office. They were both silent until the door to his office closed.
Mariam didn’t sit down on the couch by the entrance of the room, opting to stand beside it instead, shifting from foot to foot anxiously. Father John stood a few feet in front of her and crossed his arms over his chest.
“So, was there something In particular you wanted to talk about?” He asked gently, intentionally leaving the question open for her to take in any direction she wanted.
Mariam was silent for a few moments before quietly responding with a trembling voice, “I can’t….i can’t do this anymore…..”
Father John furrowed his eyebrow in concern. He’d been anticipating this, but that didn’t make the pain in her voice any easier to stomach. “Do what, sweetheart?”
She gestured around vaguely, not sure how to explain it. “Just…life. I don’t….i wasn’t made for this….”
Father John sighed, taking a step closer. Mariam had come to him before outside of confession to talk to him about this, so he could speak a bit on what she’d told him previously.
He decided it would be wise to clear his bases and make sure she wasn’t an immediate danger to herself. “Do…can you explain that a little bit more?” He asked gently. She shook her head and looked down at the floor. “Mariam,” he started, waiting for her to look at him and continuing when she did, “are you thinking about….hurting yourself?”
Her eyes flicked to the floor and she bit her lip before looking back up at him shamefully. Her eyes were glossy with tears and her chin quivered a bit.
“Thinking…” She said into the air, “I….yes…” she whimpered. “I…I did….”
“Did what?” He asked, becoming a bit concerned now. Her lack of response conveyed her meaning. “Mariam, have you hurt yourself?”
She bit her lip and nodded after a moment, still looking at the floor, a tear sliding down her cheek. “I didn’t know what to do….it…it gives me something to control…it makes sense…” she started rambling in an attempt to keep from losing all control over he emotions before pausing and looking up at him.
“I’m sorry.” Mariam whispered.
Those two simple words broke the dam to all the emotion she was holding back.
She let out a soft sob, and then another as tears streamed down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry….”she whispered over and over again, wrapping her arms around her chest.
Father John took a step forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Mariam, you don’t have to apologize to me….”
He paused a moment, choosing his words, “I hate seeing you in so much pain, seeing you damage your own body…but you don’t have to apologize to me for it. I may never understand exactly what you’re going through, but I will never condemn or judge you for it.” He said softly.
Mariam looked at his face, then glanced down to his chest, a silent requesting in her eyes. Father John understood and closed the distance between them, taking Mariam in his arms and holding her against himself.
She let out sob after sob, her tears soaking into the black fabric of his cassock. “I don’t want to do this anymore….”she said between sobs, “I don’t want other people to worry about me and have to put so much energy into dealing with me.”
Father John sighed, tucking her head under his chin, “Mariam, you may not believe me when I tell you this, but we-your parents, your friends, this whole community- would much rather ‘deal’ with you alive than not have you here with us….” His voice broke a bit at the end of the sentence.
He loved this girl as a father loves his child. He may have known her for only a few years, but he’d enjoyed her presence in his life. She was clever beyond her years and so very sweet, and he didn’t want to lose her. He knew the community would be devastated if they lost her, but he also knew that she believed they would be better without her.
Father John took a breath to steady himself and ran a hand through Mariam’s hair. “You said you had hurt yourself?”
Mariam sniffled against his chest and nodded. “Do you want to…can I show you?” She whispered.
He nodded and took a breath as she pulled herself away from his chest, reaching up to the sleeve of her shirt and pulling it above her shoulder, revealing rows of red slashes, some deeper and clearly newer than others.
“Mariam…”he whispered. She looked down at the floor shamefully, another sob bubbling out of her throat as she pushed her sleeve back down and curled back up against father John’s chest.
He sighed and gently pushed her toward the couch so they could both sit down before wrapping his arms around her. Mariam nestled her face against his chest, still sobbing.
“Mariam, can you take a few breaths for me?” He asked. Mariam tried, but failed as her breath was cut short by a sob. Father John gently tilted her head up to his so she could look at his face and ran a hand though her hair, taking a few deep breaths in demonstration.
She tried again and managed a few steady breaths before settling her face back into his chest and continued to breathe.
“We want you here, sweetheart,” He started, “you do so many good things for this community and are such a joy to be around, but we also value you simply because you are a child of God.”
Mariam sniffled. “How do I know you’re being honest? You may not want me dead, but that doesn’t mean you enjoy dealing with me alive…”
“You keep using the word ‘deal’,” he observed, pausing a moment, “do you think your presence is a burden to us?” He asked gently. Mariam nodded, and he squeezed her a bit tighter against his chest, burying his nose in her hair.
“Sweetheart…you are not a burden to us. Ever. We love being with you. I love being around you.”
Mariam was silent as he spoke save for a few small sniffles into his chest. “That doesn’t change the fact that I don’t love feeling like this…”she whispered “I hate feeling like I inconvenience everyone and that they’d be better without me…if I could snap my fingers to change it I would, but I can’t…so that leaves my only available solution to be…removing myself…”
The way she spoke, even in such distress, made sense. Father John understood how it could seem like death was her only actual and permanent solution.
“I know you hate feeling this way. And while your feelings and emotions and thoughts are all valid, that doesn’t make them true. I can’t tell you how to fix this. I….” He trailed off, debating whether he wanted to go on with what he was saying before deciding to do it.
“When I was in college, a few years before I entered seminary, I entered a place not unlike where you are now. It felt like nothing I did was worth anything to anyone at best, and at worst caused more problems.
I didn’t know how to escape it. I would be lying if I told you that thoughts of death didn’t cross my mind or seem like a viable solution. But sweetheart,”
He tilted her head up toward his, cupping her face and gently stroking her cheek with a finger, “it does get better. I know you can’t see it right now. But just…stay. Stay for a few more days, and if you survive that, stay for a few more.”
Mariam’s eyes were teary and a bit wide as she listened, still processing what he’d told her. “Father?” She asked.
“Yes?”
“Did you ever hurt yourself like I do?”
He was quiet a moment, “No, not quite. The thought crossed my mind, but I tended to turn to other unhealthy behaviors. Overworking, drinking, risky relationships…” he trailed off, remembering all the things he’d done to try coping with the pain of his life.
“I actually did something very similar to what you’re doing right now.”
Mariam looked up at him before tucking her face back under his chin. “Did it help?”
“Yes…l spoke to the priest who ran the campus ministry at my college after coming to mass hungover. He caught me on the way out because he wanted to scold me for coming in smelling like alcohol and weed, but the conversation became part of how I discovered my vocation as a priest.”
Father John recalled the stern but compassionate voice of Father Morgan, the priest who’d effectively saved his life.
“Are you saying I should become a nun and it’ll solve all my problems?” Mariam asked, a hint of humor in her voice.
Father John chuckled and continued stroking her hair. “No, not unless you feel called to it, but that can be a conversation for another time. Right now, I need to know that you understood what I told you. Do you think you can stay a bit longer?”
Mariam was silent for a minute before nodding. “I’ll try…I haven’t planned anything yet….”she murmured.
“That’s good…not having a plan is good…do you think you’ll be okay tonight?”
She nodded, but made no move to leave his arms, and he didn’t push her to.
“Okay,” she said at last, much calmer than she had been when the conversation began, “I’ll…I’ll try to stay…to find reasons to…”
Father John nodded gently kissed the top of her head. “Good.”
Mariam pulled herself away from his chest and he gently took her face into his hands. “You can always talk to me. Whatever you need, I’ll be here, okay?” She nodded and he pressed a final kiss to her forehead before releasing her.
“Thank you for listening…it really helped.” Mariam said as she approached the door. “Of course. Anytime you need it, I’ll be here for you.”
With that, Mariam gave him a final smile and walked out the door. Father John knew it wouldn’t be the last time she came to him to speak and that she would have to go through many more hardships, but he would be there for her, and that was enough for him.