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Holy Candles and the Three Days of Darkness (1 Viewer)


“Tommar! Ronny! Jamie! Weefer! Becky! Shelley! Marnie! Petie! Johnnie!” That meant it was either morning or “TIME TO SAY THE ROSARY!” We dreaded that sound like you wouldn’t believe. Mom was Catholic and did her best to raise us that way, too. Poor woman. She had nothing backing her but a deep and determined faith in the stories she had been told and the all-too-human instinct that when all else fails, guilt and fear work wonders. As kids, we knew that the end of the world would be signaled by the Three Days of Darkness, wherein the moon would turn blood red and everyone outside would die and only those indoors would live. Sadly, though, the ones outside wouldn’t die right away and had the potential to come clawing at your doors and windows, begging to come in. It was very important to NOT OPEN THE DOOR no matter who wanted in, because if you did EVERYONE IN THE HOUSE WOULD DIE!!
“Even if it’s Dad outside?”
“Even if it’s Dad.”
Scary stuff, as Dad was prone to being outside.

Also very important: the only things that would burn would be holy beeswax candles, which were bought through the Almighty Sacred and Unbelievably Holy Traditional Catholic Paraphernalia Store and blessed by one of only a hundred or so qualified priests around the world. We had lots of those. They weren’t just good for end of the world scenarios either. Coupled with Holy Water, they had the power to provide an impenetrable shield around our house and even send long, holy, protective tentacles out into the world to rescue wayward children. Mom lit them during storms, when the boys were out late, when we said the rosary, and probably had one lit through her entire pregnancy with me. But mainly, we took comfort knowing we were covered when the Three Days of Darkness came and when there were tornado warnings.

Looking back, the eminent dooms day theory seems more like a nuclear holocaust scenario than the wrath of God, but with mom’s brain having turned into Swiss cheese over the last three years, the chance to clarify the story has long passed. Either way, we grew up with the nagging idea that one way or another, without the protection of scapulars, candles, holy water and what-not, there were forces out there ready and willing to tear us to pieces and send us to hell. These ideas weren’t even strange to us until we started school and realized that our common knowledge was not what others would call common, or even knowledge, for that matter. It didn’t take long to shut up about some stuff. The Three Days of Darkness was one of them.


Senior Member
Hey, not everybody is lucky enough to have a demented crack wh0re for a mom, ya know? I'm sure there are many positive things about your life to make up for the horrible trauma you suffered. Try to look on the bright side. You killed her and she's rotting in the cellar now, good riddance, and as a bonus you can grow psychedelic mushrooms on her corpse. (You DID kill her, right?)

P.S., you should put paragraph breaks between the lines of dialog, too, i.e.--

“Even if it’s Dad outside?”

“Even if it’s Dad.”

Scary stuff, as Dad was prone to being outside.

It makes it easier to read.