The Confession (2011) s01e08 Episode Script

Chapter 8

Tell me when your compasion ever outweighed your need to harm? Prove to me you loved them.
Never come back here again.
Do you remember a man named, Sheldon Hoffman? You're giving the money back.
You're not going to kill me? I just did.
The Confession 1x08 "Chapter 8" That's two people you let live.
So.
Each time, you made a choice.
Oh, it wasn't a choice.
You knew he'd kill himself? Yes.
How? The look on his face.
I've seen that before.
You know what I think? I think you came here because you don't want to kill again, tonight.
Oh, no Father, I do.
I really, really do.
Have you taken a look at the world around you, lately? It's a cesspool.
Dirty little people living their dirty little lives.
Drug dealer, rapists, child molesters.
We've become so accustomed to it that we accept it as a normal part of life as long as it doesn't touch us.
Only in a world this screwed up can we think that people like that deserve to live.
People that have built a life on the pain and suffering of others.
They're aware of the consequences of their actions, but they just don't care.
Do they ever show compassion? No.
It's still wrong.
How can ridding the world of people who harm others, be wrong, Father? You know, forget it.
You don't understand a single thing I'm trying to tell you.
- I don't need to understand it to know that it is wrong! What you do is wrong.
You think this is the life I want? Do you think if I could feel like a normal human being, I wouldn't want that? Life doesn't give a shit about what we want.
For some of us, the chance at a normal life was ripped away from us when we were very, very young.
My God, what happened to you? You wouldn't understand.
You don't know that.
Father, you wouldn't understand what it is like to suffer, to truly suffer.
And, to cause suffering and not care.
You don't know that, either.
Really? What's the worst thing you've ever done, Father? Steal a little money from the collection plate? Sneak sips of sacrificial wine between services? Did you have impure thoughts about members of your congregation? I have sinned.
What's your darkest sin, Father? That is between me and God.
Prove to me you understand my pain and I won't kill tonight.
And, I'm not talking about petty little sins, Father.
I want you to prove to me that you understand what it is like to truly harm another human being.
To do something horrible and not care.
There is something, isn't there? Is that why you became a priest? I became a priest to share God's love.
What about, before you were a priest? I wasn't always who I am.
There was a time in my life when I was filled with rage.
But, I changed.
What changed you? I can't You mean, you won't.
All right, I won't.
Not even if you hold a man's life in your hands? No, no, not if it's in YOUR hands.
Not any more, Father.
What you decide right now, determines whether or not he will live or die.
Why are you doing this to me? Because I want you to understand, we're all hypocrites.
You preach compassion.
Where is it now? You have the opportunity to save a man's life, but you won't.
Because your pride is greater than your love.
No, wait.
Go on.
I was married, once.
I drank too much.
I did horrible things to my wife and child.
What kind of things? What kind of things!! I beat them.
Oh, God forgive me.
I was filled with anger.
I was so, so, so, so, full of anger.
But, I convinced myself that they deserved it.
With every drink I took, they deserved it more.
I was empty inside and the only way that I felt better was by making others suffer more.
I thought of no one but myself.
And, when my wife died, I left my son.
I just walked out of the house one day and I never went back.
So, don't tell me that I don't understand you.
I was you.
I may not have killed, but I have harmed.
I know what it is to be a monster.
I know what it is to shatter lives.
I know what it is to terrorize an eight year old boy, who has never done me any harm.
As I, as I like myself now.
I wonder how I could have ever been that man.
The man, who slapped his son in the face when he was drunkenly napping.
The man who locked him a closet because he said he was afraid of the dark.
The man who the man who What did you do? Tell me.
No.
TELL ME!! He ran into the kitchen one night, when I was cooking, bumped into the table and my bottle was smashed on the floor.
Oh, God, forgive me.
I held his hand over the flame.
I burned him.
Scarred him.
He was hurting, no doubt.
Yes, I know father.

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