I should detail my impure thoughts to the Father

Layla: Father, lately my thoughts are beset by scenes that perturb my mind and body. In my mind I see a beautiful and sensual woman dancing naked before me. Her enormous and provocative breasts invite me to lick and suck them until I collapse, and when I do, I feel like my insides burn like the fires of hell and, suddenly, the only thing I want to do is rub my thighs together, imagining all the while that soft fingers trace snaking lines all over my body...

Father Martín: My child, Satan never shows his true face. He disguises himself in seductive and attractive forms so we cannot resist his treacherous whims, and in this way he takes over our body and mind to satisfy his thirst for sin.

He grabbed something from his pocket and extended his hand.

Father Martín: If your soul truly wishes to be pure, you must take this rosary, press it tightly to your bosom every night, and pray sincerely for salvation from sin. You must speak to God so that he can guide you away from damnation and towards redemption.

I could feel the confessional moving ever so slightly.

Layla: Thank you for listening, Father, and thank you for your kind words. I'll be sure to follow your advice.

He took my hand between his.

Father Martín: That's what I'm here for, child. Now go and get some rest. We'll see each other tomorrow at the Christmas Eve Mass, and I'm sure you'll be feeling a lot better.

I took the rosary from Father Martín and looked at it closely, fondling it in my hands and pressing it into my breast. Nothing seemed to happen, so I simply thanked Father again, put the rosary inside my habit, and returned to my room where I wanted to study the good book until nighttime.

The truth was that I had not been able to memorize almost anything, instead becoming absorbed in the chaotic and prophetic words written there. I had three more days to finish my task. Otherwise, Mother Superior would be severely displeased with me, which meant she would unleash all her rage in a harsh punishment if I didn't follow her orders... And boy, she sure loved to impart them.

I lay on my cot with the rosary between my hands. It seemed ancient, like it had been handed down over several generations, and deposited within it were the burdens of countless other **** souls. I grabbed the Holy Bible and tried to study some more, but my mind was so troubled I couldn't focus at all. It was as if the words written there just bounced against my brain time and time again.

I remembered Father Martín's words and I clutched the Rosary to my breast, begging God to reform my being and turn me into what he wanted me to be... I was so tired of being nothing.