Work Text:
You think your life is hard. You know nothing because you don’t understand the meaning of hard. . . not really.
You have a hangnail. You spilled wine on your favorite blouse. . . Spare me.
Your boss yelled at you. You forgot a deadline. I’m not throwing you a pity party.
You were fired. You are overwhelmed with bills. I’m still not impressed with your complaints.
You watched a spouse of a child wither away from a painful disease, unable to do anything but hold their hand. . . . Okay, you might have something there. I really wouldn’t know. I’ve never loved. I’ve never been loved.
Ever.
I know what you are thinking. You don’t know me. Who are you to judge my life? You’re right. I don’t know you but you have heard of me. Let me tell you my story. . . . . . .
_____________________________
I am the child who wants mommy and daddy to tuck him in at night, but you are too busy with dressing up for your night on the town.
I am the little girl, dressed up in my princess dress ready to go trick-or treating, yet you are too drunk to get off the couch.
I am the homeless man you stepped over in your rush to reach the theater.
I am the child hiding the welts under a thick sweater as she wipes her tears with the woolen sleeve. You patted me on the head and told me the day would improve.
I am the woman terrorized by her husband every day while her neighbors look with envy at her large house.
I am the boy screaming for help by cutting his own skin and choking his own neck. You rolled your eyes and called me a bad egg.
____________
I am every time you thought of yourself before others.
I am every time you turned your back, lust of your own wishes instead of loving and reaching out.
And I am the Scorned.
The Disdained.
The Ignored.
And I’m tired, so tired of this world.
_____________________________________
And then an opportunity was presented to me. Perhaps I should have said no. Perhaps I should have taken the high road. Perhaps I should have said, there is still good. There is still peace. There is still love, but I didn’t. In truth I don’t know if these things really existed. How can one accept the reality of something they’ve never felt themselves?
“I can give you what you want.” Its voice was smooth as silk like a rippling water tripping over pebbles. It was hypnotizing, intoxicating.
I lifted my head peering at it through my bloodshot eyes. “What do I want?” I questioned.
It laughed. “Excellent question. I can give you whatever you want. I can give you that large house, a seven digit bank account, a beautiful life. I can make you the envy of all those that trod upon you.”
“That will never happen,” you whisper, “except maybe in the next life. Who are you?” Blood seeped out of my cracked, swollen lips as I attempted to talk. “Death?”
“Death,” it scoffed, “Death always gets the credit, but death is not negative. He is merely a messenger, a doorway into the next world. What path you take is determined not by him, but by yourself. I am much worse than death.”
“I am anger. I am misery. I am gluttony and vanity. I am the dark without any light. I am the one who slowly oozes into your life, little by little, until I am firmly entrenched. By then, you want me. You desire me. You covet me, so you invite me in more and more, until your life revolves around me, and you can’t image an existence without me.
I am υποδούλωση του αμαρτία (ypodoúlosi tou amartía.) I am the enslavement of sin.”
“Enslavement of sin? What could you possibly give me?”
Its eyes, if it had them, widened in shock. “What can I give you? Why, I can give you everything and anything. Look at the money hoarders on Wall Street. I made many of them. Look at the overpriced flashy cars. They were invented because of me. Look at the overindulgent parents with their self-serving children. The porn, the drunk, the materialism! They are some of my biggest accomplishments!” It seemed to puff out its chest, if it had a chest. “I can give you whatever you want. What do you want?”
I thought about it. What do I want?
Do I want an island vacation home and the fancy cars? Do I want the diamonds, the prestige, and the fame?
If I was like one side of the world’s coin, self-indulgent with the constant need for instant gratification, no matter the consequences, it would be so tempting. I would have snatched his offer up immediately, but no, that wasn’t me. Perhaps I’m more like the other side of the coin: hatred, anger, spite. . .the accumulation of years of neglect and pain. Yes, that described me, but what did I want?
I thought of you when I hadn’t seen you for weeks because you were too busy with your parties for a bedtime story.
I thought of you when you dropped the rest of the bottle on my princess costume, ruining it.
I thought of you when you stepped over me while rifling through your wallet for those Broadway tickets.
I thought of you when you patted my head while I hid the bruises
I thought of you when. . .
And I knew what I wanted. I wanted you to feel the same as me. I wanted you to truly understand your selfishness, your attitude, your view of society. Little by little they destroyed my life until I was barely dust swirling about.
“I want revenge,” I announced aloud. My voice loud and clear. “I want them to feel all the horrors, the pain, the suffering. I want them to feel they way I have felt every time they. . . . every time. . . ev. . . . “ My voice began to falter before I swallowed and took a deep breath, securing my fate. My destiny was clear. “I want them to suffer everything they have bestowed upon me.”
Sin grinned pure evil “and so you shall have it,” he proclaimed.
He touched my head with his hand, if one could call that extension a hand, and murmured in a language I could only recognize as ancient and terrifying. Then he spoke. “Let me in. Let me into every fiber of your being. Let me show you the wonders of my power.”
And so I opened my heart to him; accepting him, welcoming his power, his strength, his SIN.
The changed started at my fingers as they turned to the color of ash. Greyish scabs flowed across my skin as my bones cracked and broke like someone was stretching me on a rack. The scaly slime stretched up my arms and through my torso, down my legs and up to my face.
My tongue was gone. I could not speak. “You don’t need it anymore,” it said. “There is no one for you to talk to anyways.”
My ears were gone. I could not hear. “Who would actually listen to you?” he asked in my head.
My eyes were gone. I could not see. “You don’t need them,” he explained. “You only need to sense them. You will know where they are by their greed, their inflictions, their past deeds.”
I nodded as my physical structure finished its transformation. . . Then the insides began.
“My heart!” I gasped for it felt like it was shrinking and hardening until it must have been as shriveled and ugly as a bezoar.
“That’s not your heart. It’s your soul.”
The last to go was my brain as I could feel it fester and rot, leaving behind only the barest of ideas.
Then, all of the sudden, without explanation, I was filled with a joy, an indescribable exultation. I was surrounded by a feeling of peace and tranquility that I didn’t know could exist. I just wanted to stand there and savor it for eternity.
As quick as it came, it was gone.
I fell to my knees the feelings so overwhelming me. “Bring it back,” I begged but he just chuckled maniacally.
“You asked for revenge, not peace.” He leaned in closer. Although my ear was gone it was as if he whispered into it. “You want that feeling again, don’t you.” I nodded mutely. “You see you didn’t actually seek revenge. You sought peace and tranquility. You sought love and acceptance. These things are folly and even if I could, I wouldn’t give you such things, for I am sin.”
He pulled his lips away and drifted backwards. “You know what you must do. If you want to recreate those happy feelings, even for a brief moment, you know how to do it. Search yourself. You know what you must do.”
“I must steal it from others,” I answered hypnotically and he nodded his agreement. “The feelings will be brief, but they will be there. Every time you suck it out of another soul, you'll still get the wish you should have made. For a while you will experience their joy, they’ll experience only pain.”
A smile spread across my now hole of a mouth. “Eye for an eye. Pain for a pain,” I murmured.
“Indeed,” he agreed as he drifted even further away.
I shook my head and studied the shredded, dismal robes that now covered my very tall frame. “I must be crazy for wanting this, but I do. Oh, yes I do… Revenge will be mine. I am truly demented.”
“Not demented,” said the voice, fading away forever. “A dementor.”