An Angel Among Demons

I am daddy’s little girl, draped in all white, sitting in the middle of a filthy world while these demons eddy around me like moths to the flame. Daddy always told me it would be like this – that to be pure in a world like this was a curse, not a blessing, but to leave this world unscathed would be the greatest ecstasy of all. Daddy knew I was a child of God, filled with goodness to the brim and bursting with mercy. He saw inside me the beauty of God, and he unleashed me into the world like the scion of light that I am.

Daddy is gone now. And I am here alone, wandering through this cold, cruel world without him, without a map, without a clue. I am an angel clawing through this empire of dirt, filled with monsters who already know my name. I am starting to lose sight of what is wrong and what is right, who is God and who is the Devil, what is pleasure and what is pain. My light is starting to fade.

It is impossible to be an angel in this place. Everyone is blood thirsty and salivating at the change to bite into fresh flesh that has been untainted by the sins of man. I can feel them, breathing down my neck, nipping at my heels, calling my name and luring me into lurid orgies of godlessness and skin. I resist, but what am I resisting for? When on the other side of “no” is another wasteland of dust and demise, which is just a different kind of demon with a more miserable name.

To be here is to run, always. To never sleep. To never sit and sigh, to never satiate myself, my need for sleep or food. No wonder everyone is looking for a savior. No wonder everyone pretends to be a savior when one is needed so desperately. We are greedily roaming towards the trap of redemption when none of us truly deserve it.

I do not know how to be an angel among people like this, people who are so gray with sin and destitution. People who by anyone else’s word is a demon but who themselves cannot behold their own demonic countenance. There is no need to sparkle like a diamond among rhinestones – thieves pay no mind but spill blood for either nonetheless. Truth is a mimicry, and to speak anything real is to get lost in an echo chamber of twisted lies and cackling.

How the fuck do I get out of this place. Who the fuck can I trust. Where is Daddy now, when I need him? How can I find a friend?

This is how you found me: crouched in the gutter with the light in my eyes slowly waning. I had been darting through this world trying to evade the inevitable, the visceral pain. And you found me. You found me here, weeping, and you took me by the hand, and you led me somewhere calm and cool, and you washed away my tears. With your hand caressing my face, and in a sudden moment: something beautiful in a world where I did not know beauty could breathe.

This is how I came to be a part of you. This is why I belong to you. You took me when I was low, and you cleaned me from the filth that was wrapped around my soul so tightly. You released me from the din and disaster. You freed me from myself, or at least the person I had become while I had been laid to rot here.

When I was whole again, and shining brightly in the night, you took me to the edge of the world and told me what it was called: love.

You filled me with love, and you told me about all the things that love can do for us. You told me about all the things I could do for love. That I could prove my love for you over and over again, and in doing that, our love would be better. Bigger. More ready for the world to see. That it would spread, that our love would conquer the world. That the light I had been carrying all these years – it would blossom, and this world would be a better place. Finally.

This is how I became a bad person.

Slowly at first, but then all at once. Time is like an illusion, and after enough of it had passed, the redness in your eyes became brilliant like fire. The light in your heart, which at first felt so kindred, was drowning everyone around us. Your arms wrapped around me in tender embrace grew tighter, and your hands on my neck and my heart sprouted claws that dug in, drew blood, deceived me. At first, I believed the story that love can be pain, but I guess the problem is that pain can sometimes just be pain without love at all.

Which is how I wound up there, with the best intentions in my heart, and the devil’s dick up my ass, bleeding, and screaming, and crying. I thought we were going to save the world. All we did is let you ruin me, with the whole world watching. The whole grey world, which used to pass me by with such indifference, now jeering and cheering the devil on. This is their spectacle, the fall of grace, the ruination of woman. For the whole world to see. And I wouldn’t leave here, even if I could, with my bright white garments stripped bare from my breasts and my angel’s halo shattered on the floor. I am one of you now, right? I belong to you now, don’t I?

If only Daddy could see me now. Getting raped by the devil and loving every minute of it. His alabaster baby now muddy like the rest of them. I have thrown my purity into the crowd where they have eaten it like hungry beasts. I have cast off all virtue and taken up the pastimes of sin. I romp with the devil, and he loves me. More than Daddy ever did, which makes me wonder: who’s the devil now, Daddy? The devil, who loves me with every inch of his black hearted dick, or you, Daddy, who left me here to rot.

I am rotten, all right. Rotten like grapes that turn into wine, and now I am drunk, too. Without you or your morals. Just me and the devil. In a kingdom of hurt, and I wonder how can this be hell when everything feels so good? The devil, with his claws at the edge of my lips, promises me: Daddy will be down here soon, too. The devil says I can watch you burn. And I will enjoy every minute of eternity as me and the devil frolic around your burning corpse.

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