COURIER IN THE BIRD MASK
TRIGGER WARNINGS child death, suicide, abuse, plague, sickness, breakdowns, first person, spouse death, starvation
Day Nine
Today, I documented someone’s prayer. It wasn’t a letter, no- it was a beg to god for redemption because she could not bear being sent to hell, and she wanted a witness that she actually did it. That she poured her sins to god, and admitted her wrongs. Her name was one Anna Angel- and today I questioned if people are even worth saving anymore.
-
Forgive me father— for I have sinned.
Forgive me father, for the Earth swallowed up the bodies of those whose blood I have shed. This face is not mine, this voice is neither. This body is not mine, and this life is no one's. I do not deserve to live, but ending it early would be wasteful. I have come to confess my sins- to a God I do not know exists, just because- I pray to you, because if Redemption and Mercy is true, then this is it. I have murdered, kidnapped and stolen. I have pride and lust and I have all the sin, for Satan is human and he flows in my veins like syrup. I will start at the beginning. I have a woman, the Courier in the Bird Mask documenting this prayer
The Caravan is my biggest mistake. The Caravan, a travelling circus I worked for. Voices of my past sing and scream, the children I have hurt and stolen haunt me in their dreams. Each and every one, I know the name of. Voronika, the first girl I was told to take. She was beautiful, and so was Anya. The second girl I stole away from loving parents. Ekaterina, Tatiana, then the first boy I stole. Viktor, the twin of Vera, whose life fell into my hands. I was only a teenage girl, Father. Please forgive me, for my pride blinded my good intent. I wanted my Caretaker, dear Igor to love me, to validate me, to praise me. He was my everything and I was nothing to him. He'd tell me what to do, and I'd follow it blindly, for he'd react with a smile and extra meals for that day. If I didn't, he would tear me apart and prod at all my bursting seams until the Sand would fall out of this puppet of a body.
They kidnapped children, forced them to perform and I was implicit in their crimes.
If that's where my crimes ended, I would be more innocent than now. I fled here, where you see me today. Found myself in front of the Willow's household, and then lust overtook me. Their daughter, Willow, was beautiful beyond comprehension. She was charming, funny, she could strike up conversation with any and I fell for her charms. I loved her. I wanted to be her. As the Willows' household rotted away, me as the disgusting tumour within it… I killed her.I opened her body, savouring every bit as the seams unravelled and the sand fell from her limbs. I opened myself, placed my spindle, my buttons, my needles, and put them where hers used to reside. I sewed myself back together, I am now her. The lust I felt was gone because now her body is contaminated with the soul of I. She is no longer Pure, she is Anna Angel.
And yet, I do not hold a charm to what she was. I often wonder if she felt the same, if she loved me and lusted sinfully for me too. Father, you must understand- this was a sin and I needed to stop lusting, for if her family found out, I may have been burned alive. Instead the Lust that was set aflame was turned into Guilt. I find myself missing her so often, clutching her bed sheets that smell like her, touching my own hand that I knew were hers.
I am older now, Father. I have her beautiful, deep blue eyes, her blonde hair, her fair and pale skin, and her perfect body. I am an empty soul puppeting her perfect marionette body. I dance in her skin, I crawl underneath it and suck the lifeblood from her soul. I am cruel, I am a killer. The harbinger of death- I am not an Angel. I am the devil incarnate."
And I am a sinner. Let me repent, let me fall into bed with Earth and let her take me without worry I am sinning. I am weak, I am vulnerable, and I am willing! Take me, oh take me! This is… this is torture. Having me in her skin, staring back at her in the mirror. I cannot contaminate this body more than I have, I cannot ruin her and make her like me! I’m sorry!
-
Anna may beg for mercy, but I can’t help but wonder if god truly cares. I refuse to believe in a god that obviously does not care for his people.
-