A Message from Someone (4)
To begin with, though—
—what does it really mean to go mad?
Whenever I start pondering that question, I immediately feel my sanity begin to slip away. Big deal, you might think, coming from a self-proclaimed lunatic. And you’d be completely right to do so. But it’s the truth, so I’m afraid there isn’t much I can do about it.
Honestly, though, I’m really not sure. When was it, I wonder, that I went completely mad?
Was it when I chose this world’s appointed time? When I sowed the seeds of evil throughout it? When I made an attendant who would serve me and me alone?
Was it when I brought about the worst possible result, one that could never be undone? Was it when I decided to take responsibility for the deed I’d committed?
Or was it, perhaps, long, long ago—
—when I made up my mind to perform that summoning?
When I decided that I wanted to save the world?
If so, though, wouldn’t that mean that there has been something messed up about me all along?
That there is something wrong with me as a person? That it was a mistake for me to ever have been born? Surely, that’s too harsh. It’s not as though a baby can bear sin. Would the mistake lie with the very world that created such a person, then?
No, no, I’m getting this all wrong. Blame and criticism, I can take. They’re far more pleasant than the blind faith and respect I was subjected to before, after all. But at the same time, I can feel it keenly.
Is there anyone in this world who has the right to condemn me?
Who? Who has that right? Certainly not you all.
You don’t know anything.
Not a single, solitary thing.
I’m not the Saint. I’m not the Suffering Woman. I’m not someone worthy of respect.
I’m just a person. Just another lunatic.
Yet—
Yet even so—
—I’ve been alone all this time.
No Comments Yet
Post a new comment
Register or Login