DEAR VICTOR
My dear Victor,
The flames caressing my cold, cracked skin will consume this piece of paper even before the ink has dried. This letter is nothing but my last-gasp cry to the Heavens to exorcise my demons, the words set free by my fingers nothing but the ectoplasm slipping through the cracks of my human shell.
For I am human Victor, of that I am certain now. My humanity is spelled in every broken sob that has escaped my lips; every inch of reddened skin left behind by angry, remorseless hands; every flicker of Hope’s fragile wings inside my chest; every spark of lust and love ignited in my ugly body, spreading like wildfire and consuming me; every burst of sick, but oh so sweet, satisfaction at the sound of screams matching my own, hardly making up for them; Aren’t all these testaments to an essence bound by the shackles of human passions?
You created me in your image forgetting, my poor Victor, that you are no God but Man yourself. And then you hated me for my flawed nature, a mirror of your own. You abandoned me and renounced your claim on me. And I tried to hate you, I cursed my own existence and you, who so recklessly brought me to this world and left me to be torn apart like prey in the claws of your kind.
Alas, I adored you Victor. I loved you with the blind devotion and ecstasy of a worshipper kneeling before the feet of his Creator begging for absolution. I loved you with the innocence of a child, desperately seeking acceptance and warmth in even the most infinitesimal, fleeting hint of pride. I loved you with the hunger a lover can’t tame, offering body and soul to the insatiable beast. God help me, I still do.
How can I escape you when I am bone of your bone, flesh of your flesh? You can never be free of me, your most magnificent creation, your most harrowing mistake. You condemned me to an eternity of darkness and I became your shadow in return. You pierced me with the lance of hurt but it’s the blood from your wounds I greedily feast on, while you suffer crowned on your cross. You banished me from Heaven and I raised Hell in your name. Be no mistaken, I have no palace erected from the guts of darkness, no Pandemonium, no. No demons fighting my battles for me, but for the ones holding the seams of my existence together. It is me alone to blame for your doom. I am the only one responsible for all the tragedies that have befallen you, even if it was you guiding my hand. Your world begins and ends with me.
And the end is near my beloved, can you feel it too? You will fall and I shall fall with you, cradling you in my arms to shield you from the shrieking laughter and forked tongued mockeries of the imps escorting us in our descend. It is time for you to rest my Victor, break the chains of your scared, tortured existence and let go. I will follow you, our stray souls will reunite in Death naked but no longer feeling shame, forgiven. For there was no life before you and there will be no life after you. I have accepted my destiny now and made my peace with it.
The flames have started licking the edges of the paper scrunched in my hands, soaked by tears I have only now realised I am shedding .Let the tongues of the ever tempestuous fire burning before me turn our sins to embers and light our passage to our end, our new beginning. Our souls will recognise each other in Erebus and together we will wear our cloaks of darkness like Kings.
Farewell Victor. My Creator. My Nemesis. My Beginning. My End.
Yours always
Maria Gioti, 30, Athens - Greece ✯