*sobs fade out*

*you sniffle, still recovering from your breakdown* What to wear? Hmm, no. No. No. No. What the fuck, there's nothing here but my club clothes! Damn it, where did my decent dresses go?! ...Fucking Hell, that bitch borrowed them for some con appearances. *voice starts trembling again* I... I can't walk into a house of God dressed like a streetwalker. There has to be some limit, right? I have to have SOME shame, don't I? I have to act like I'm not complete and utter trash. *pause* What's the fucking point? It's true.

*city sounds*

Okay, okay, just walk in, say a prayer for daddy, walk out, and try not to look anyone in the eye. God I hope no one smells the whiskey on my breath. I needed it just to get out the door. Fuck, I'm drinking before 10 AM. That's a new record.

*door opens*

I'm not looking at anyone, I'm not looking at anyone. Oh God, people are looking at me. There are the candles. Just carefully light one, kneel and... and... *tears threaten* this dress is too short to kneel in. Just... just do it and pray no one looks.

*clears throat; recited perfectly, from strict self-imposed practice*

Requiem æternam dona ei, Domine
Et lux perpetua luceat ei:
Requiescat in pace.
Amen.

*your voice shifts back to its wavering tone*

Daddy? I don't know if you can hear me, but I hope you can. I... I haven't been good, daddy. I haven't been living the way I should. And at this rate I... I... *tears break free, run down your face* Daddy I don't think I'll be alive this time next year. And if I'm not... *sobbing* I don't think I'm going to be sent where you are, daddy. We're never going to see each other again like I've always dreamed of. If this is really the last time I ever get to talk to you... Daddy, I just want you to know that I love you, and I still miss you, every single day! Since you were taken from me, I've felt empty. There's been a piece missing. I love you, daddy! I love you, daddy! *quiet sobbing*

*footsteps snap you back to your surroundings*

*to self* Oh no, the priest! *failing miserably to disguise your tears* I'm sorry for disrupting everything, Father. I'll just... I'll just leave.

*his response is gentle rather than judgmental; in spite of your mode of dress, he knows a sinner in anguish when he sees one*

Is something wrong? No, I'm fi--No... no, I'm not going to lie to a priest on top of everything else. I'm not fine. I'm very, very not fine.

*he offers to speak with you about what troubles you*

Thanks for the concern, Father, but... *sobs return* I don't think anyone can help me.

*you bolt, your footsteps rapid as you rush through the door*