THURSDAY 8TH NOVEMBER 2007
“This doesn’t feel right, but it must be done,” Diablo muttered to himself.
Casually walking into a Roman Catholic church, The Creator of Controversy immediately felt out of place. He looked around, staring at the stained glass windows, the pews and the pulpit, before spotting the confessional boxes, hidden in a corner of the large room.
“Baby steps, baby steps,” he whispered.
The Mexican Devil cautiously walked down the aisle, placing his black sneakers down on the bright red carpeting very gingerly as he tried not to disturb anything or garner any attention. However this was not possible, as his torn denim jacket, faded black t-shirt and shabby black jeans would get anyone’s attention, not to mention his greasy long black hair, tired eyes and disjointed nose.
“Deep breath,” he thought to himself.
Taking in a deep breath, The Master of Manipulation stepped into the confessional and pulled the purple curtain across, before taking a seat.
“Forgive me father for I have sinned, it has been a lifetime since my last confession,” the desperate Mexican began.
“Then we have a lot to talk about,” a croaky voice replied.
Running his hands through his hair, El Diablo could not believe that he had to resort to this, it was the last chance he could see to get Jorge out of his head for good.
SATURDAY 6TH DECEMBER 1997
“Look son, I understand your anger, I do, but this isn’t the time for it,” stated Jose Diaz.
“Do not call me son, you stopped being my father after Jorge died. I remember vividly the weeks that went by after he died, and you nor Mom were parents to me then, or from then on. You lost your right, so don’t try to claim it now,” Raul angrily retorted back.
Arguing with his father was a common occurrence for El Diablo, for he had never forgiven him for what happened during his childhood. It didn’t matter that his father was 58 years old in 1997, as his anger exuded limitations such as age. But this conversation would be interesting, for this would be the last time they would speak.
“Your mother died just a few weeks ago, do not talk about her like that. Respect the deceased,” Jose implored.
The youthful El Diablo could see the tears welling up in his fathers eyes, and grinned a horrible smile at that.
“Respect? Why should I respect someone who was a bitch to me when she was alive? Death does not eliminate all the bad things that were said and done. All death is, is an end, it does not bring clarity, peace or respect,” scoffed Raul.
Taking a step back from his son, Jose simply could not believe what he was hearing.
“What happened to you Raul? Why do you disgrace us by calling yourself El Diablo? You know very well that we are a religious family, and by calling yourself that, you are tainting the Diaz name and angering our saviour,” Jose remarked.
Shaking his head, Raul was obviously frustrated.
“You never raised Jorge and I as Catholic, so it may be your choice, but not mine. I have no qualms about going by as El Diablo. And if that offends you, then so much the better,” Raul said bitterly.
“YOU ARE CATHOLIC! And you are only hurting yourself by hiding that fact. But never deny your faith, Raul, especially not to me,” Jose told his son.
THURSDAY 8TH NOVEMBER 2007
“I don’t know if I can go on carrying this burden with me,” exclaimed The Creator of Controversy.
“Then isn’t it best to unburden yourself my child?” the croaky voice uttered.
Sighing, El Diablo didn’t really feel able to express his sins, but knew he would have to if it meant he could have peace of mind.
“I was born Catholic but have never embraced it, I’ve never wanted to embrace it, but I’m having troubles in my life and have nowhere else to turn. I came here to try and get a fresh perspective on things and to free my mind from the heavy burdens I’m carrying,” Diablo responded.
There was a long period of silence, leaving The Mexican Devil to ponder what was going on, and if he really belonged there. Of course he didn’t, but the father did not know that and should have responded in some form, instead of the eerie silence that was occurring.
“Are you there?” asked Diablo.
More silence followed, leaving The Master of Manipulation frustrated at a wasted trip to church.
“Is anybody in there?” he asked again.
“Of course there is, Raul,” stated the familiar voice of the ghostly Jorge Diaz.
Hearing his voice was clearly irritating to El Diablo, as he had come to church for the first time in nearly twenty years to find a way to rid his mind of his sibling and the distractions he causes. But there was no such luck, as inside the other booth was his brother and not a father to absolve El Diablo of his sins.
“I knew you’d find your way back into church, Raul. I just didn’t think it would take this long,” commented Jorge.
The stressed Mexican, understood that he had no choice but to interact once again with his dead brother.
“Why now Jorge? You’ve been plaguing me for weeks now, and nothing has changed, except for you ruining my life? Why won’t you leave me be? Why won’t you let me be the man that I am? What right do you have to try and change me?” Diablo implored for answers.
Unnerved by this situation, El Diablo had begun to nervously tap his left foot on the wooden flooring of the confession booth.
“Because, brother, you are not well. Look at all the things you have done in your life, especially recently since you joined FUSE, and none of it are the actions of a sane man. You drugged and tortured an innocent woman, Raul, how can you even justify that?” Jorge preached.
Rubbing away at his tired eyes, El Diablo was exhausted with Jorge’s frequent visits to him.
“If it gives me an edge I’ll do anything, Jorge, anything. Everybody looks to take advantage of someone or something and that’s what she was to me, an excuse to get to Jason Cruise and I’ll be honest Jorge, I kind of enjoyed it. But I don’t have to justify myself to anyone, just like Mel Gibson doesn’t need to justify his jew-a-phobia or Bill Belichick not needing to justify himself for cheating. It’s who I am, it’s who they are, and none of us are going to change,” Diablo retorted back.
“But you can change, and you will, you just don’t know when,” stated Jorge.
SATURDAY 6TH DECEMBER 1997
Staring directly into his Dad’s olive coloured eyes, Raul felt nothing but contempt for him.
“How Catholic were you after Jorge died? I seem to remember not even getting fed because you and Mom blamed me. So where were your deep religious beliefs then?” Raul angrily asked his Dad.
Looking to the ground, it was evident by his body language that Jose felt deep guilt about what happened in the weeks following his eldest son’s premature death.
“I’ve looked deep into my soul, Raul and realise all too well how I must have hurt you with my actions, and thanks to my faith I have come to terms with what happened. My faith has made me realise how wrong I was, and I’m trying hard to right my wrongs, son, before my time is over. So, I want to say to you, son, how very sor…..” Jose stated full of emotion.
But before he could finish his sentence, Raul had interrupted him.
“NO! YOU CANNOT DO THAT! EVERYTHING BAD THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED TO ME HAS BEEN BECAUSE OF YOU, FATHER! YOU WILL NEVER GET MY FORGIVENESS, NEVER!” Raul shrieked at him.
Slowly a tear started to roll down Jose’s withered cheek.
“Very well,” muttered Jose.
THURSDAY 8TH NOVEMBER 2007
“No Jorge, change isn’t happening here,” El Diablo spouted.
Hearing laughter within the other confessional booth, El Diablo felt both angered and upset.
“WHAT IS IT THAT YOU REALLY WANT?” Diablo screamed.
“I want you to know the repercussions of your actions. You are not untouchable Raul, you could die tomorrow and nobody would care. You need to change out of what you have become, which is a sick, vile, disgusting, evil man, before you regret it. And trust me, brother, you will regret it, everyone like you always regrets it. Simply put, your life is not worthwhile,” Jorge informed him.
Now it was El Diablo’s turn to laugh, as he was very humoured by Jorge’s response.
“No. I will never change, and why should I? I have a beautiful wife that loves me and I’m part of the most elite group that wrestling has ever seen in the form of The Affliction. These two things prove without a shadow of a doubt that my life is worthwhile,” The Mexican Devil calmly stated.
“She can never have your children, and people like Clinton Sage will never be a true friend that you could trust with your life,” Jorge retorted.
SATURDAY 6TH DECEMBER 1997
“I can understand your anger and bitterness, son. I just hope that some day it will subside,” Jose said as he wiped the tear away from his cheek.
The twenty-three year old, Raul shook his head in absolute disgust.
“Don’t bank on it happening,” he resentfully remarked.
“Your brother would be ashamed of the way you’re acting. He loved you so much and if he could see you like this, all bitter and angry, he’d be deeply ashamed,” Jose told him.
Taking a step back, Raul could hardly believe that his Dad had brought Jorge into the discussion.
“Don’t you dare bring Jorge into this. He had issues with you too, it wasn’t just me,”
Looking enlightened, Jose smiled at his son, much to Raul’s confusion.
“What are you smiling at?” asked Raul.
“Jorge came to me just a few months ago and told me that he had forgiven me, for the issues he had with me and for the way I treated you afterwards. Seeing and hearing Jorge again was a blessing, and that reignited by passion for my faith,” Jose beamed.
Raul was shocked by this revelation, and stared at his Dad like he was insane.
“Cut the crap Dad. You didn’t see or hear anything, you’re just trying to excuse yourself from the blame,”
Grinning a genuine smile, Jose took a few steps forward and began to hug Raul. Feeling the warmth of a hug from his father was a strange sensation to Raul, and one he didn’t like.
“GET OFF OF ME!” he shouted.
Shrugging his Dad away from him, Raul had pushed Jose to the ground.
“Stop inventing these stupid stories and stay away from me. I do not want to see or hear from you ever again. We’re finished from this point forward,” Raul notified him.
Staring up from the ground, at his son, Jose reluctantly nodded.
“You’ll see the light son. I know you’ll regret this. You just need to rediscover yourself and learn to cope with what happened in the past,”
THURSDAY 8TH NOVEMBER 2007
Yanking the curtain away, The Mexican Devil stepped out of the confession booth and yanked the adjacent curtain open. To his surprise, he could not see Jorge in there. This disappointed him as he wanted answers from Jorge as he now believed that Jorge had visited his father all those years ago.
“When I want him gone, he‘s always here and now when I need answers, he is gone,” Diablo whispered to himself.
Smiling as he started to walk up the aisle to exit the church, El Diablo was interrupted by his ringing cell phone.
“Hello?”
“Mr Diaz?”
“Yes that’s me,”
“My name is Lucia, I was a friend of your father’s, and I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but he died this morning,”
Taken slightly by surprise by this news, El Diablo didn’t really know what to say.
“Um, okay. Bye,”
Upon ending the phone call, The Master of Manipulation was curious about how his father had known his cell phone number. He was also taken aback with how peculiar it was for him to be informed whilst inside a Catholic church, the home of his father’s religion.
“Do you feel guilty now Raul, that you never made peace with him? He was begging you for forgiveness, but you chose to ignore him all these years. We both know that you can be a better man than what you are now, so do you have any regrets Raul? I’ll leave you alone now, to let you rot in your wasted life, but deep down I’ll be your conscience and sooner or later you’ll realise your wrongs and then your life can truly begin again. Goodbye, brother,” stated Jorge’s voice for the final time.
Slowly walking up the aisle, El Diablo did feel unburdened by his visit to the church and for the first time in months felt free from another presence. However, he did feel guilt and he did feel regret.
THE END!