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I showed this piece to someone and he says its the beginning of a novel. I will like to give that a try. To begin my first of many first ( I wrote a poem about that)  so please give this a read. lets just say I'm allowing you read my first draft. Like all disclaimer goes, "all names and characters are fictional". 

As Grace opened the curtains to the bright morning, its streak cast a glow across the room, illuminating the once dark space as if to expose the secret that lurked. Nothing that could pass for a humiliating confession or a lengthy penance.  Or not? This memory brought a smile as she remembered how she knew someone had been a bad Christian by the hours spent kneeling after seeing the priest for confession. Chuckling as she moved about the tiny bedroom she occupied; giving semblance of order to the chaos unleashed the night before. “I need to go back” she thought. “But how do I start, seeing as I've stayed away for too long”. With a heavy sigh, she went back to placing things in their positions, while making a mental note never to call the dude she brought over.  He was the type you fantasize about but was not worth the spittle. Dang! If she had a card to rate them all, he would score a minus. She didn't wait until dawn to send him on his way. “Good riddance” she mouthed as she gave the customary hug and kiss and bade him good-day. She had clung to hoping she could erase his stamp but his cologne hung like a plague in the air and trying to combat the smell with an air freshener was making it worse. The room smelt like fart and dead rat combined.

Giving up the losing battle, she decided to take a walk, letting nature take care of the rest or something close to that. She had been trying to evade the visions that crept unannounced since the past few weeks. Memories she had locked in a safe and had forgotten the combination. She had been doing well or so, she had defeated the visions that was mild to label “nightmare”, she kept seeing the building of the convent she had lived, the cuffs on her wrists as she was led away, the face of the man she told all her darkest secrets, the blood that stained his cassock, the matron screaming and the disdain from the sisters; she would wake up drenched with tears that stained the pillows. They were coming in droves now.  She knew she was slipping as was evident by the number of sleeping pills she had been popping. Which also meant the scores of guys she brought over for fear that she would travel back in time and relive the episode wasn't helping.

As she turned, the street corner, she heard the chime of a church bell. Startled from here reverie, she looked to take in her surrounding, it was her old street. “How had she gotten there?” doing a 360⁰ turn, she breathed the once familiar air. The smell of the bakery that always had fresh loaf all the time. The “No worries store” that sold pirated CDs and the noise from its speakers competed for supremacy with that of the mosque close to it. This was where she had called home. Turning back, she stood across the church that made her take the oath of celibacy. Now that was a thing of the past, her present a blemish on her once clean record, she felt a pull, like a gravitational force pulling her into its centre, or maybe it was nature’s own way of telling her, “It was time”. Time to operate on the wound that had been left to decay and cause more harm than good. Solemnly, she walked to the confessional, knelt and with the sign of the cross she began “Bless me father for I have sinned”