The Quill

-

   This is a journal entry from Friday, 2 April 2021. 



  It is the same image I see every Good Friday. As the testimony of Jesus' death is read, the altar pours out blood and the cackling of a dark presence resounds through the church. 

  But this time, something is different. The sacrifice on the altar isn't a lamb or goat; it's me. Or, at least, a form of me. She is in the fetal position. I can hear her mutter "Animus, Animus, lema sabachthani?" over and over. I know those words: Animus, Animus, why have you forsaken me. 

  "But I haven't forsaken you." I respond from my seat.

  The voice stops. Even from the distance, I can see this form of me open her eyes to reveal a dark mist. "Three years. You have forsaken me at the fire pit. I have only sorrow and spite in my being." 

  I wade through the blood and approach the altar. The sacrifice is indeed the one I burned at the fire pit in 2018. Her clothes are ashen, her hair unevenly burned. "Animus, Animus, lema sabachthani?" She cries again. 

  "I did not forsake you." I repeat. Part of me struggles to keep from crying. "I meant to put you to rest."

  I feel a familiar presence come from behind me. "You merely burned her." I looked over my shoulder to see Elyon, the most High. "But now you can put her to rest." He hands me a silver quill with a very sharp shaft end. I can tell it is not meant for writing. He nods to me and steps back. I know what to do. I turn and place the quill over her throat. 

  "No! No! Please!" She whimpers. "Please spare me! Remember all of the joy and acceptance you had!"

  "No. You only recalled the sorrow and rejection." I sigh. 

  "What about all of the happiness of family and friends?"

  "All you can remind me of is the loneliness." I hiss.

  "But what about the thrill and hope of finding a new life companion?"

  "There was nothing with you but false hope and painful longing." I growl. 

  "How dare you! I have-" She reaches up to choke me, but I intervene. 

  "Enough!" I yell as I plunge the quill into her throat. I see her stutter and feel her go limp. "Enough." I ease her body back onto the altar. The blood pours out more and her body flakes apart. "Enough..." I fall back to my seat in the back of the church. I cry a little bit and find myself wanting to sleep. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Book Review #3

-
Book Review Dreyer's English: An Utterly Correct Guide to Clarity and Style Written by Benjamin Dreyer   If you are looking for a newer, fresher guide to the English language, this might be something to read. Dreyer is the Copy Chief of Random House, which gives him ample credibility to the wisdom and advice he offers. This book becomes a first step into the mind of a copy editor for multiple forms of writing. A lot of the information in this book serves as great advice and a springboard into other resources that Dreyer heartily recommends.   There is a lot of information to take in with this book. Its two sections (and thirteen chapters) cover a lot of material. The first section, "The Stuff in the Front," goes into detail about various style suggestions that you may want to consider on a basic level. Things such as punctuation; the rules and nonrules; and how to write foreign words in your work are critical for everything from flash fiction to novellas, from biographies...
Read more

Extra Note

-
 This goes to every American who either voted or did not vote recently. If you did not get what you wanted/needed, celebrate with those who did. For the first time in four years, those people may feel seen and valued.  If you did get what you wanted/needed, comfort and/or pray for those who did not. For the first time in four years, those people may feel uncertain and scared of their future.  No matter who you are as an American, please prepare to make the next four years the best they can be for yourself and others. Not just the ones you agree with, but everyone.  If your first reaction to my request was to become angry, then please take a moment to ask yourself why you got angry. The fact that you may not be able to set aside your feelings/convictions to understand how others feel is not what we as a full country need right now. For those of you who aren't American but still have elections in your country, I would kindly ask that you adapt this practice for when yo...
Read more

Canlanma Street Level, Story 1

-
Story 1    The holy incense follows the disciples out of the gilded temple hall. The Shepherd continues to swing the burner as he repeats the old mantras of the faith. The last disciple leaves and the burner settles as the Shepherd contemplates the list of rituals he must perform before the sun sets. The ritual implements have to be cleaned, the sacrifices burned, the acolytes of the temple purified, the-   "Shepherd Thanatos, we have a situation that requires your attention." An acolyte of the temple calls from below the altar. The Shepherd sighs and recites his calming mantra: "What I am about to do has not been approved." The Shepherd walks slowly behind the altar and finds the symbol on the side as he recites "chao regnat" under his breath. The symbol glows and opens a trap door under the altar. Shepherd Thanatos checks for other unwelcomed entities then slips under the altar and down the exposed staircase.   The acolytes in the room part as Shephe...
Read more