Dec 2012
“Why are you so evil?”
The words hung in the air, a condemning bell tone across the dark room.
Shock. It’s the only way to describe how the limbs seize up and remain frozen in their place, how all of a sudden the blood feels colder as it circulates through the veins, carrying the virus phrase along with its stream.
Why are you so evil?
It was nothing, a mere teasing among siblings, a red rubber ball that had been promised back as long as it no longer held any interest, it couldn't have been possessed for more than a minute before the whining began, and it wasn't going to be long until it was returned, but was it really worthy of such a question?
Why are you so evil?
No, certainly not.
However those blue irises still bore the same intensity, a mouth, nearly a thin line that hung open in an odd mix between an ugly scowl and gritted teeth. Dyed thinning blonde hair pulled back in a greasy pony tail hid no wrinkles that caved their way into the corners of those eyes, or upon the center of the brow, and yet within these creases it’s still echoing;
Why are you so evil?
How dare you.
What do you know of evil? Alone and frightened, left to face the monsters with nothing but bare tiny fingers that linger in the darkness at the furthest edge of the room. Startled and panicked, while being a passenger and taken on a ride to who knows where with every question answered with nothing but blank stares and confused expressions, as if speaking Gaelic to the deaf and blind. Exhausted and irritated, because it’s ridiculous to be expected to care for this mess of a child when a stool must still be used to reach the faucet. And even still;
Why are you so evil?
Laughter. It’s the only sound to drown out that god forsaken question ringing in the air, and yet the repulsive thing still echoes in the depth of the so called ****** soul. It’s the only thing that keeps your sight away from the fact that the tremors have nothing to do with the raspy sound leaving the lungs.
Anguish. It’s the only thing flooding the system now. Because how many times has that question been asked after every mistake? After every lie? After every argument that pride refuses to allow proper apologies into the picture?
Of course, that must be it. Everything makes sense. Every let down, every heart ache, every instance of life’s cruelties have become clearer than the tears flooding behind the eyes.
And still, the question still remains;
*Why am I so evil?
The words hung in the air, a condemning bell tone across the dark room.
Shock. It’s the only way to describe how the limbs seize up and remain frozen in their place, how all of a sudden the blood feels colder as it circulates through the veins, carrying the virus phrase along with its stream.
Why are you so evil?
It was nothing, a mere teasing among siblings, a red rubber ball that had been promised back as long as it no longer held any interest, it couldn't have been possessed for more than a minute before the whining began, and it wasn't going to be long until it was returned, but was it really worthy of such a question?
Why are you so evil?
No, certainly not.
However those blue irises still bore the same intensity, a mouth, nearly a thin line that hung open in an odd mix between an ugly scowl and gritted teeth. Dyed thinning blonde hair pulled back in a greasy pony tail hid no wrinkles that caved their way into the corners of those eyes, or upon the center of the brow, and yet within these creases it’s still echoing;
Why are you so evil?
How dare you.
What do you know of evil? Alone and frightened, left to face the monsters with nothing but bare tiny fingers that linger in the darkness at the furthest edge of the room. Startled and panicked, while being a passenger and taken on a ride to who knows where with every question answered with nothing but blank stares and confused expressions, as if speaking Gaelic to the deaf and blind. Exhausted and irritated, because it’s ridiculous to be expected to care for this mess of a child when a stool must still be used to reach the faucet. And even still;
Why are you so evil?
Laughter. It’s the only sound to drown out that god forsaken question ringing in the air, and yet the repulsive thing still echoes in the depth of the so called ****** soul. It’s the only thing that keeps your sight away from the fact that the tremors have nothing to do with the raspy sound leaving the lungs.
Anguish. It’s the only thing flooding the system now. Because how many times has that question been asked after every mistake? After every lie? After every argument that pride refuses to allow proper apologies into the picture?
Of course, that must be it. Everything makes sense. Every let down, every heart ache, every instance of life’s cruelties have become clearer than the tears flooding behind the eyes.
And still, the question still remains;
*Why am I so evil?
