Irregular Days

Entry 13,657

It isn’t so bad here in Gehenna, really. I’ve got my nice little house full of immaculate furniture no one uses and a case full of trophies I’ve awarded myself. I have a lovely cat to spend the centuries with. She doesn’t have a choice but to be party to my lonesome games, but I believe she loves me as I do her. What else does one need? Is that honesty or delusion speaking? I certainly don’t know anymore. My life has always been weird and pathetic, but I’ve always felt content. I don’t know anymore though. Is it contention fueled by a happiness or complacency fueled by apathy and fear?

I do miss many things about the mortal plane. I miss the sounds of raindrops pelting the earth. I miss the feeling of the ocean breeze against my back. I miss the smell of flowers blooming in the spring. And as weird as it seems for a being of shadow to be saying, I miss the sun. Oh gods I miss the sun. It was never conducive to my tasks, but in moments of respite the warmth of the sun was comforting. I can still almost feel it on my skin when I think about it. Even after all these years the beauty of my old homeland hasn’t escaped my memories. I suppose an eternity of longing for the past is the price I pay for immortality. This is my reward for a life of cowardice. Petty insecurities and inaction have long since stole away the beauty of my youth, and I have now replaced them with a cracking and shallow facade of a young girl in her prime. Sad, isn’t it?

I wonder if Ms. Champion, or I suppose I should say Lady Grimalkin, ever thinks about me? I wonder if she was ever aware of how I worshiped her so back then. Perhaps even more than I worshiped lord Kuroth. To this day my only real wish is to see her again, even if it is to be as I look up at her as my vision fades and this old soul finally ceases to be. I wish I could ever repay her for all she did for me, but how does one repay a goddess? Just seeing her again and hearing that wonderful and confident voice one last time is all I need.

I don’t sleep anymore. I don’t sleep but all I do is dream, and when I open my eyes all I see is the flames. The terrible flames that consumed my wasted life in a conflagration of shame, as I watched from afar and just let it happen. If I could do it all over again, I would have done a few things differently. I would have had more friends. I would have done all the things I was too afraid to do. I would have lived for myself and died young. Did anyone miss me when I was gone? Does anyone out there remember me anymore? Did I leave even a single pathetic mark of my existence back there?

Dreaming of changing your past is nice and all, but it is meaningless. I speak as if I’m dead, but I’m more powerful than ever, and yet here I am resigned to my fate. Resigned to this pathetic life. If I was truly capable of doing it all over again, surely I would do it the same. I’m a follower to the end, aren’t I? Courage is to accept the uncomfortable truths about yourself. Courage is to acknowledge your weaknesses and cover them them with your strengths to live the way you want to. I am not courageous, for I wipe away the moments of clarity with make-believe. Tomorrow will come and I’ll forget the words I wrote today. Tomorrow will come and I’ll be content again. After all it takes more strength to move on than it does to dwell on past mistakes, and a cowardly little thief is all I’ve ever been.

Filed under:
Mignon's Journal, Misc by Tawny