12 Years of Silence — Claire Kotecki

‘Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.’

yes sister, so my voice says. your eyes on me.

‘Sure, you want to join us with the Lord then, young Agatha?’

not kind eyes. not for me. is my skirt straight? cross my knees. pull the hem a bit. sister won’t notice. smiles at me, she does. not a real smile. sees the taint on me. the fingerprints. the stains.

‘You’re a quiet one now. You’ve time to see if this is your calling. You’ve time to find your path to the Lord. It’s not so bad, the quiet. Sometimes, we all need it.’

sure, i can see in her eyes that she thinks i won’t do this. not good enough for you, am i sister? what do you know? yes sister, so my voice says. my eyes on the floor. on her black shoes. scuff at the front. shine can’t hide it. black laces. frayed edges. pull the hem a bit.

‘Well, let’s be away with you now to your room. Sister Martha will show you the way. You’ll not take long to settle, I’m sure. We’ll be seeing you at matins tomorrow. God be with you child.’

nod my head. look at the shoes. and with you, so my voice says.

hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee, so my voice says. you are with me. i feel you in me. she watches me, the Mother, in her habit. on my knees. pain. stone cold against me, digging into me. you are with me. she doesn’t know me. i am not hers, i am yours.

‘Are you prepared to take the Lord into your life?’

look contrite. look humble. she doesn’t know that you are in me already. nod. yes Mother Superior, so my voice says. Mother returns it. then it’s done. hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with me. mine.

matins. cold dawn snaps me, so sharp it hurts. you know i understand the hurt. i understand you. we talk, you and i, in a language of our own. we have a lexicon of pain. matins and the cold pain, this is you, and i understand it. hail Mary, full of grace. i speak the words in my head but i know you are buried there in the crevices. cutting. tiny nicks made by a holy knife that you saw me bathe in holy water before i came here. today, i am marking the liturgy on my thigh. Mother Superior doesn’t understand. she isn’t truly holy. just uses promiscuous words that everyone touches. you know i’m not like that. i don’t whore my faith on a street corner for anyone to see. you and I, we talk through the knife and we understand each other.

“Sister Agatha, are you there?”

damn her, with the power of the devil in her, standing outside my door. she wants to take you from me. be silent. be mute. i clutch the knife, cold and dispassionate, in my fist, against my flesh. flesh of my flesh. bone of my bone. i could cut to the bone with this and you would understand why.

“Sister?”

may the devil take her. jealous. pernicious. she cannot have you. i won’t allow it. knife to skin, hidden within. stand up. crack the door. smile just a little bit and bow your head like a good girl.

“Breakfast Sister.”

take it. nod again. close the door. we are alone, you and i. hail Mary, full of grace. you are with me. i can wait for you to speak. i know you are there.

i am taking my vow. i chose silence a long time ago but you haven’t spoken to me. do you hate me? am i not serious enough for you? kneeling. cold floor but i am hardened. would you speak to me if it hurt more? Mother looking at me. hate. i hate her. do you speak to her? is that why she polices me?

“Sister Agatha, do you understand the severity of the vow you are about to make?”

do i understand? she dares to ask me if i understand? she pretends. i know you don’t speak to her. she is unholy. unclean. trying to trick me. won’t let her. devil take her. nod. humble. i do, so my voice says.

“May His blessings be upon you.”

your blessings aren’t hers to give. whore. i understand what you need. i know you. i clench my knees to hold you in. still you don’t speak. nor would you with these brazen women around me. hail Mary, full of grace. i am full of grace. you fill me.

there’s a man here today. Our Father. or not. vestments. heavy. i know what they cover though. Sister Agatha. an inspiration to us all. sure, i can bless you. hands. lingering. longer. can you not take him from me? you know me. those men knew me. can you not take his hands from me now? sick. inside. sweat on his lip. dewy. rancid. those lips speaking. may the Lord be with you. and with you, so my eyes say. he's not with you. he’s in me. so my heart says. i wait though. in return, silence.

six years. not a word. not a sign. damn you, then. i’ll not speak with you again.

children. noise. fills every corner of me. did you send them, did you? why else would Mother choose me for school duty? sure now, we’re talking again. so my head says. not a kind or merciful God. punishing me. children are born from sin. so my head says. so my heart knows. i told you. just you. hands pawing me. their screeches clawing me. you know. you know the rough hands. legs splayed. blood drops. that screech.

‘Children are a gift, sure they are Sister Agatha.’

bollocks, so my head says. that child was no gift. you want it. you’re begging for it. hungry. pull the skirt hem. taste of strawberry on my lips. woodbine smoke on breath. blood. same taste as your ring. metal. skin.

‘God’s gift, Sister Agatha.’

God’s gift, so my eyes say. dirty, so my heart says. but sure, we’re talking again. miss me, did you? fuck you. i was better without you. blood, i taste. blood. on lips. sick to my stomach. can’t. breathe. bless me. forgive me. sure, what my head says. it’s not me. i need to purify me. you know i don’t mean it. there’s you. and there’s me. and sure, that’s all there needs to be. so you test me. pass, did i? hail Mary, full of grace. i’m sorry. forgive me? speak to me. so my heart says. the Lord is with me. are you with me? still? never leave me. so my head says.

i had a mother once. a real one. not a posturing saint like Mother Superior. ran to her, i did. skinned knees. salty tears. comfort me. smelt of coal tar soap. sunday best. starched collar near choking me. mind you keep yourself clean. mind your manners. mind your language. don’t be muttering at me missy, under your breath. sure, you’ll be fit for it. mind the priest now. but ma, i didn’t do it. mind you don’t contradict. do you love me? nonsense, child. don't be scuffing your sunday shoes now. mind your prayers. hail Mary, full of grace. ma, i don’t like it when da comes home. the Lord is with thee. can i sleep with you? in the warm bed. lock the door. keep the bad man out. and with thee. hail Mary. mind your nonsense now. brazen girl. mind your mouth. silence. a habit. hail Mary, full of grace. the Lord is with thee. so my voice says. are you though? were you ever?

all seeing, that’s what they say you are. sure, but it’s hard to think you saw me before i knew you. did you? years. years without caring. brazen child, i was. busy running with boys. harlot, she called me. rightly. deserved it all. still do. now I kneel. no more pawing in the back pews. show me yours. show you mine. frenchies. tongues tasting. slap of her palm, reddening cheek. slapper. she saw. i knew. did you? is that why you’re silent now? i wouldn't talk to me either, so my head says. slut. close your legs. i know though. silence cleanses. paints over scars. am i clean enough now? so my heart asks. am i worthy of grace? i can wait.

10.

our Father who art in heaven. she’s dead then. Mother. not mine. she's long gone and cold in the ground. Mother Superior. was she? acted like it. up herself with the word of our Lord. hallowed be thy name. jeez but it would be a trial if she was up there with you. in my head. are you going to talk to me now? now she’s gone and left us. poison. she spits it out with her prayers. spitting it out at you. sister agatha, sure there’s something not right with her. thy kingdom come. silence. a jealous one. can’t eavesdrop on our conversations. thy will be done. is it though? a conversation. conversations have more than one of us in them. so my head says. on earth as it is in heaven. is she though? is she in there? don't you listen to that witch. sure, she never liked me anyway. give us this day. give us this. give us. give. silence.

11.

fuck. it's eating me. like a cancer. a cancer. crawling through my insides. they made me see a doctor today. do you understand me now sister? pity. disgust. his eyes as his hands paw me. we can’t help you. empty. insides raw like a skinned poult. necrotic. fitting. how long? it’s not my voice asking. staring. will you be choosing now to speak then. is this the time. years. passed without a word. months. a year at most. sure, I’ve had eleven already. sister agatha? do you understand? simple. that's what they think. silence bought me nothing. fuck their respect. divinity? what does that even mean. not a word. silence. chewing its way out of me. i don’t even remember the sound of my voice. or if i ever had one. this is all that’s left. rotten. decaying. not a word. are you OK? there are people you can talk to. are there fuck. sure, what do they know.

12.

pain. breathe in and it’s like sandpaper. breathe out. i rattle. Hail Mary … full of … no. not anymore. twelve years, you’ve had me to yourself. breathe in. make yourself, why don’t you. twelve years. silence, i gave you. silence. breathe out. cough. spit. i have nothing. i am pain. i am noise. i can hear the sickness. smell it. age. grace. fuck grace. even now, nothing. did you talk to them? choose them instead of me? that whore of a Sister, who wouldn’t know grace if it slapped her? breathe in. like concrete. drowning. drowning in me. i can’t be silent. this body won’t do it. was it me? i failed you. bloody silence. blood. on a tissue. on the sheets. rotting from inside silence. did you know i was rotten then? time now. not long. each cut was my gift. you didn’t want it. so i don’t want you. not now. can’t. breathe. in. out. Lord. full of grace. grace. i see. see. what. cough. drowning. water. holy.

words.

blood.

silence.