Need To Fall; OPEN

[JONATHON CHAMBERS]

It's midnight's late reminder of
the loss of her the one I love
the need to quickly end it all
sits front row in my need to fall

Jonathan Chambers was one of the few people in Melilla that was granted pardon from attending church during mass or whenever the people were made to come to the church. And that is only because he used to be the reverand of the God forsaken church. The God forsaken part of Jonathan's thoughts was not a pun. He really didn't think God was the head of the church anymore. Probably because in Jonathan's head God was simply a notion that was made up so that the people could hope for something. But when hope was destroyed for Jonathan, so were any ideas of faith. All of that was gone. Instead Jonathan Chambers settled for visiting the church every Christmas eve.

Walking down the aisle Jonathan reminisced about the wedding he had at the very church. It was beautiful and it was the first time that Jonathan had really been awed by anything. As Jonathan reached the front where the altar was he turned, imagining the beautiful decorations all over the place. It wasn't the decorations that mattered. Focusing his dark eyes to the end of the aisle that he had just walked down, Jonathan imagined his Emily walking down, bouquet of flowers in hand and a gentle smile on her warm, soft lips. That was the way Jonathan preferred to remember her. Jonathan closed his eyes willing away the image of his beloved. The more he thought about her the more he wanted to take action and this wasn't about action. Emily was the reason Jonathan refused to take a side in any of the fighting going on.

Jonathan turned to the altar, staring down the wooden sculpture on it of Jesus hanging on the cross. In more disrespect than honor Jonathan fished a cigarette from the carton in his pocket and lit up. He took a drag and blew the smoke directly over the sculpture of Jesus. Jonathan didn't pray anymore, but his key purpose in coming to the church was that he would stand there, smoke nearly half a pack of cigarettes, curse God, and sulk for a little while. It was his Christmas eve ritual ever since Emily died, why abandon it? "You know, God," Jonathan stated bitterly after taking another drag, "I was convinced for years that you were the only way to be fully protected in this world." He shook his head as he knocked the ash from the end of his cigarette off into the offering plate.

"What really happens in the end, huh?" this time Jonathan was more or less talking to himself. "We are asked to rely on faith, trust blindly in some entity that is unseen, but supposedly all powerful, all knowing, and forever present. But that's not enough, is it?" Jonathan glared at the sculpture of Jesus as if he were about to attack it. Only the purest form of hate radiated from his dark eyes. "It never is. Nothing is ever good enough." He turned and sat on the very first pew. "I was faithful." Jonathan said in a harsh tone of voice, "I honored every single word written in that damn book and practiced every value I preached, and how was I repaid for my service to you?" It was a rhetorical question. If God even existed, then he had to have already known what Jonathan was talking about.

Letting small silence fall Jonathan huffed. Emily had been ranked number two in his life, below God. This was, of course, because he was a reverand and as a reverand God was supposed to be his number one. Emily had been okay with that because she understood. In fact, she was just as devout and holy as Jon was and she didn't even have to be. When Emily died Jonathan was left wondering what he had done wrong. He had done everything that he was supposed to and in the end it had gained him nothing. That was the cause of Jonathan abandoning his religion. He didn't go to church unless it were to curse the God that made him miserable. Jonathan wasn't even sure that God existed anymore, but that was his own doubt to have.

"What kind of merciful, kind, loving God takes a woman like that?" Jon's patience had worn out. "SHE LOVED YOU! SHE TRUSTED YOU FOR WHATEVER FUCKING REASON I CAN'T UNDERSTAND!" Jonathan shouted as he stood. He drew in a deep breath and walked back to the altar. "Emily did nothing wrong and served you honsetly. If that is how your servants are treated, Jonathan paused a moment to put his cigarette out at the base of the cross, "Then you're one screwed up son of a bitch, God."

Usually it would bother any normal person to talk like that in a church and to God no less. But Jonathan wasn't any normal person and he had a general resentment toward God. He couldn't care less about the possibility of getting arrested for it. Jonathan wasn't the kind of guy to worry about that.

[PENELOPE MONTENEGRO]

Penelope silently made her way to the church, her heels clicking on the cement. Pilot was with his grandparents, happily spending the day with them since Penny needed the time to simply be alone. She wore nothing special, just some navy skinny jeans, her black pumps, and a white, button up top, the sleeved rolled up to her elbows. Her golden brown hair was down and wavy as it usually was.

She slipped right up the church steps. Why was she here again? Oh yes, she had to make a payment to the Revrend there. She didn't come often, actually, she never came. She did not have to simply because her husband seemed to pay everyone off so they could basically do as they wished. Hell, he was one of the very few people who could travel in and out of Melilla without any trouble.

The young woman had to pay the man as a form of charity. If she didnt give any, the government would get on her case for not being so...holy. She readjusted the navy slouch bag on her thin shoulder as she entered, her footsteps muted against the carpeting. Her footsteps slowed, though, when she noticed someone in the front by the alter.

She bit her lower lip at his words and after listening, she realized she knew who he was. The ex Revrend. She remembered attending his mass every now and again before Pilot was born and before she had gone to New York City and married Elliot. She had heard that he stopped being a minister because of an accident-and she realized it was probably because he lost his wife.

Hell, she'd cuse at God too if He had taken away the one person most important in her life. She didn't blame him for the way he acted, but she wouldn't pity him either. She didn't like receiving pity or sympathy so she usually didn't give it out in return.

She continued to walk, though, towards the alter since she usually just wrote up a check, stuck it in the offering basket, and was off-not even needing to see the pastor that worked there now. She had only met the man once-regarding the baptism of Pilot. After that, she didn't see him anymore unless her parents dragged her there. She was twenty one, but it didn't stop her parents from being her mother and father and it didn't stop her from being their daughter.

She had known the man's wife-Emily-when they were growing up. They had been good friends, but Penelope had mised the funeral because she had been in the hospital-having a few birth complications with Pilot. She hadn't spoken to her after highschool-only seldomly in church. She had been there for their wedding, not as a bridesmaid, but she had been invited as were so many others. The two had looked hopelessly in love...

"Call Him an asshole for me while you're at it," Penelope stated softly as she reached the alter, stepping around the man and pulling out her check book, quickly writting a check in that neat writing of her's, and then slipping it in the offering basket,"I think He deserves it," she didn't need to explain to the ex-minister why-but she was prety damn sure he would agree with her. She put her check book away into her purse and looked like she was going to be off on her way.

Though she did think God was a bit....hypocritical, despite everything she was currently dealing with, she was glad that He had given her Pilot. When she had been inlabor, she was sure Pilot wasn't going to make it. Hell, he was even born premature and the doctors said he probably wouldn't live past next week. But little Pilot pulled through and now he was a healthy baby boy. Though her marriage went to shambles, she had her son-who sort of gave her hope.

By the way Jonathon was talking, she figured he didn't have anyone to give him that hope. Not hope in God-but hope that things could get better...

[JONATHON CHAMBERS]

It's midnight's late reminder of
the loss of her the one I love
the need to quickly end it all
sits front row in my need to fall

Jonathan didn't look up to see who the voice belonged to. It was one that he recognised. Penelopy Montenegro, or as Jonathan had called her when Emily was alive...Monty, had been one of Emily's friends for a while until she suddenly disappeared. No one knew what happened and no one really asked questions until Monty came back to Melilla as if nothing had ever happened. Monty had even missed Emily's funeral, which Jonathan had not failed to notice. He wouldn't point it out, though. He was beyond the anger stage of his grief, but he was nowhere near acceptance. He shook his head slowly as he lit yet another cigarette. One thing Jonathan would not do, not matter how much one deserved it, was say something that was meant to be personal. If Monty wanted God to know that she thought he was an asshole, then she should be the one to say so.

"As much as I believe he deserves worse than that," Jonathan stated through clenched teeth, "We all have our reasons for hating him. Asshole coming from me wouldn't mean the same as if you were to say it yourself." Meaning simply that Jonathan would not do her dirty work. Glancing up Jonathan took a drag on his cigarette. "Long time no see, Monty." He didn't look at her. If Jonathan looked at her, then he would be betraying his feelings. Jonathan didn't want people to know that he was still hurting. The anger front was part of it. It was reasonable that a man would be shaken after the death of his spouse and child. The people understood that and it was the only reason Jonathan got away with being as hateful as he tended to be.

Jonathan's eyes fell on the check that Monty had put in the offering plate. "Son of a bitch..." He muttered harshly, "Are they making you pay the church?" That was something that Jonathan had never practiced. The money he took would only be offering and that was optional. Then again, Jonathan had not been corrupt as a reverand. "Pay off the church so you don't have to worry about recompence." A dark chuckle escaped Jonathan's thin lips as he finally turned to face Monty. "When did grace become something with a cost?" Things were so different than when Jonathan had been reverend. He would have never allowed such a thing.

Of course, the new reverend was in charge of the church operations. It was one of the reasons that Jonathan refused to attend mass. The new reverand, in Jon's opinion, was corrupt. There was no way that he would support it. Deep down the reverend in him was still alive. The Jonathan Chambers who always wanted to help and guide his people instead of leaving them to the wolves, the Jonathan Chambers that people would always go to when they needed to get something off their chest. Somehow Jonathan had been blessed with a quality that enabled people to feel comfortable talking to him. It seemed like there was no room for the reverend he used to be to come out. Jonathan had spent a good amount of time blocking that part of him out.

Jonathan exhaled the smoke and diverted his eyes back to the replica of Jesus on the cross. Sometimes he wondered if it was fair that he blame God for his misfortune, but after spending so many years believing that God was all powerful and everything happened so that God could carry out his 'will', well, Jonathan felt like he had no choice but to blame God for it. Why not? God had the ability to stop it, but he didn't. There had to be a reason for that.

Reason....

Apparently there was a reason for everything, but that was something that Jonathan had grown to doubt. Emily had been all the reason Jonathan needed to exist and she was gone. He felt like there was nothing left to live for. A corrupt government, a resistance who frankly was too young to know what they hell they were doing, and the conservatives who had spent their whole lives being lied to. None of those were enough for Jonathan. It was why he chose his own side and became a nutral. There was nothing that he could do for any of those sides. They were all fools in his book.