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Story of a Girl
The only emotion that I have ever felt for God is hate, and hate is the last emotion that I will ever feel. I may soon die. From the very first moment I saw Him He fascinated me and captured my mind, but I have never loved Him. Even when He had me wrapped up in His power, even then I did not love Him. But I have hated God, and I hate Him still, and that is why I will die. My death will be slow and it may never come, for I am dying in my mind. I prefer not to think about it, not to think about the waiting, the madness, and the emptiness that will one day come; but the thoughts are there and the fear is unavoidable. I left God, He found me. Now I am trapped by His side, and I believe that as these days pass I will go mad and my mind will die. I left Him because there is a girl on a planet in the far reaches of space who will never be given another day. There is a girl out there somewhere who is dead, a young and innocent girl, one much like myself, whose only sin was fascination. I have watched God for years upon years, and lifetimes of stars have passed. I have admired and memorized Him. I have known all along that He is thoughtless and cruel, but what He did was unforgivable. We had no reason to go to that planet. We went there out of boredom only and chose the planet by chance. He gave us the form of the people there, in that place so different from the place that was once my home. The people there live on light and water, they make homes in trees, and they have close communities headed by a matriarch. When I was hiding, back in my own human body, I lived on the ground where it is dangerous and dark and where none but God think to travel. God and I stayed there on that planet and enjoyed the culture: the story telling, the community, the religion. Then there was a young girl. We were strangers amongst a people in which strangers were rare. The girl was curious about us, and so she sneaked into our home one night. She found God and I in an embrace, and then more than ever she was intrigued. She had seen little romance in her life, and never any between two men. We were new, and strange, and interesting—but above all, she was fascinated by God. Maybe, as I did, she recognized that He was far from human. Maybe she was drawn to Him the same way that I was. Whatever the reason, she adored Him and He took her as His favorite on that planet. I hated her for it. I hated her guts, her bravery, and how openly she vied with me for His attention. I hated how He gave it to her, like a doting parent: teaching her tidbits, showing her things. I hated that little girl with all the rancor and jealousy that I had ever known because I was afraid that maybe, just maybe, she would learning something about God that I did not know. God knew that I was angry—I did not try hard to hide it from Him, and it was hate such that no attempt could ever hide it. He apologized a thousand times, as is His nature when my offence is on the line. He held me, He comforted me, and I watched happily as He pulled away from that girl. The power God had over me, power that had grown old and weak while He had been favoring another, returned in full force. Ever since the death of Chiron, the man I loved, God had been strong over me. If only to see one last secret, I would have followed Him to the ends of the universe, such was His power over me. But then that power broke. God and I were happy together, in our home in the trees. We were enjoying that strange new planet. But that girl, that young and simple girl, she would not leave us alone. Day in and day out she bothered us, and where God had once thought her sweet He soon found her irritating. When she persisted and did not stop, God grew angry. He tried to dissuade her, tried to frighten her away, but she would not be thwarted. Finally, God killed her. I was there when she died. God and I where in our home, talking, and He turned suddenly to the window where the girl was peaking in at us. An emotion passed over the features of God—an emotion that I had seen rarely but knew well. It was anger, anger more than the heat of an inferno, anger with the violence of a thousand storms, anger like no other. He could take no more, and in the briefest second, as He looked over, saw her, and was angry, she died. And then He turned back to me, calm again, as if the dead body outside our home was worthy of no more than a brief thought. I was furious. Something within me changed in the moment that she died. I became able to see myself in her—my youth, my curiosity, my obsession. I did not want her to take my place at God's side, but I understood why she would want to take it. After all, I myself wanted it once, although it is now enough to drive me mad. Again God tried to comfort me and calm me, but it never once occurred to Him that I was searching for regret and sorrow on His face. He had no remorse—He did not even think about it. I became ever more angry, and that night while we rested—for, as eternal beings, there was no need for sleep—I came to a conclusion in my mind. It was a conclusion that I reached on my own. There was no love to tempt me, no source to sway me, and the decision was mine alone. I was stronger because of it, and my will was great. There was once a time not very long ago when God had complete control of my mind. He had brainwashed me, made me think of Him as a devout worshiper should, as a sycophant would, completely unlike the mindset of the consort He had chosen me to be. When He had that power, none could take me from Him. Only I had the power to free myself—and nothing changed until He killed that girl and I felt the first emotion that I had ever known for God: hate. In the dark of that night, held in God's arms, I realized it. And at the first moment I had, I left. I did all everything without thinking. Had I have thought I would have done nothing, and I knew that there would be much time to think when I was free of Him. I waited for a moment of distraction, when I was alone, and then I let myself plunge down through the tree branches to the forest ground, trusting my life to God's power that has kept me alive this long time. And then I ran, and I hid. There were no days, down there beneath the branches. There was only musty wet darkness. I do now know how long I spent, quietly waiting, not eating, afraid to close my eyes. I knew that God was looking for me because I was still alive. I know that if He abandons me, if He stops caring, I will die. I am only human. So I sat beneath the branches. I was afraid, and I remembered only that girl, and I worried, and I feared that it was true that I could not leave God's side. It is true. I did not know that then, and I took comfort in the decision I had made. It was mine, strong and irretraceable. I would never have taken back my decision. Still I do not, thought God has used His supreme force to take me back by His side. I never doubted that He would. I am with Him now, and I will hate Him forever, but I cannot leave. I hope that I will die soon. |