Holy Mother, I love you so.
How I love your son in your arms.
I love your holy rosary.
I worship the holy father.
Mother, what else shall I do to be worthy of your grace?
What can I do to redeem my sins?
They are so hideous, I loathe them.
My body is so disgusting. Mother, set me free of it.
My holy father forgive me, free me of eternal fire.
I am so afraid.
Mother, how much more can I love you?
What shall one do to deserve your grace?
Fear paralyses me.
What is that noise, that quiet scratching and gentle knocking?
Why is it so cold in here?
Hey, is anybody there? What is that shadow? It looks familiar.
Mother, is that you?
God! This face in the mirror, I must be seeing things.
It was so horrible.
God I am so afraid.
Father, what do you demand of me?
Do I not pray enough?
I must go to the temple.
Voices in my head terrify me.
What hideous whispers!
I can see the stairs,
what a pain, I writhe in agony, cannot move.
Someone screamed at my sight.
Eyes, my eyes, so dreadfully black.
I cannot see the church, where am I?
It is so empty here, my stomach so cramped.
Great despair, like death in family.
Someone is coming.
I hear him speak, pray son, so pray.
Your body will be destroyed.
You must suffer, for them, when your time comes.
I will be waiting. Bring them to me.
Is that your Father? Why such despair?
I can see the holy painting.
That is the mother. That is her son. I hate them so much.
They are so hideous.
What are you looking at, you whore? Yes, it is me.
I fear you no more, bitch.
Watch me throw up on your painting.
What have you done to me?
These voices in my head this paralyzing pain,
this horrible emptiness, I shall not make it.
I can see the rope. Yes, it is my deliverance.
It wound itself around my neck. I jump. Mother...
Father, is that you?
Where am I?
Why are you laughing so dreadfully?
You hate me.
You holy whores. I curse you for eternity [for ever].