I miss Lucifer. He never visits me. Or at least I don’t feel him. Maybe he wants to keep the honeymoon feeling forever. Red Queen and Lucifer fight. Maybe he doesn’t want that with me as a human. I’m also young so maybe he doesn’t want me to become too cynical if I know more about him. Idk. Maybe he doesn’t care about me.
Even when I do get to see him, it’s only for 2 minutes. Then my wards send me away. I have never had a full conversation with a spirit because of my wards.
I keep looking at sex positions and getting sad. I have no intimacy in my life. No love. I went to bed wanting to die. I want him to visit. I can’t imagine loving anyone else.
I saw a glimpse of Red Queen’s kingdom. It looked like a modern human city at first glance. She could change its appearance when she wanted. When she was in bad mood, the sky would turn red and the buildings turned black with red accents. The city sits near an ocean of some sort and the water turned to blood.
She gathered a bunch of criminal spirits in a room. Each other them had a different criminal fixation. They seemed lost and did not understand where they were. They consisted of men, women, and children of many races. They turned violent when provoked. They tried to rise up against Red Queen. She acted like she was weak in order to make them attack her. She let them hurt her. Once they were all gathered around her, she slaughtered them. Most of that was blurred from my mind. It was done rather quickly and efficiently.
I, as an observer, didn’t understand that they were corrupt until after they died and Red Queen had a conversation with someone. I thought they were just trapped and scared.
Everyone in the meeting was upset that children had to be killed. Red Queen said that it didn’t matter. They were corrupt and it was the only thing to do. They still chattered about the incident.
Red Queen stood up and raised her voice. Strong and pragmatic. “This is a kingdom of destruction and death! This is what happens here.”
The board members seemed to forget where they were and had to be brought back to reality. It is a sad reality, but a necessary one. Souls cannot be reborn without first being destroyed.
“Now, we still must discuss (insert something about the economy).”
Nightmares again. Like that’s new. They’re the only dreams I have when I sleep. The main theme was my mom and family gaslighting me in extremely distressing ways. I know it’s not from my own mind because I even call them out and say that they’re not acting like themselves. My mom kept telling me I was destined to be an alcoholic. It was weird.
I yelled at my family and went berserk. I felt insane. Nobody would listen to me and ignored what I said.
Someone invisible that felt like Sam covered me in water. He hooked spark plugs or something onto my back and electrocuted me. I felt pain but died almost immediately. It was just a flash.
I had dreams where I was in my harpy/siren form. I flew around an island. Parts of it were tropical and parts were mountainous and freezing. I was able to easily transform my arms into wings and back again. It was really cool. It felt so real. I wish I could do that in real life. Jumping off of ledges and not worrying about falling feels so natural.
Sam wished me a Merry Christmas by trapping me in a mall until I was forced to jump off a balcony and commit suicide to escape. When I woke up in the dream after cracking my skull open I found that I was just transported to another part of the mall. I started cursing and screaming at Sam. (He wasn’t there, but he’s the one who usually traps me in dreams.)
I tried to shoot myself in the head to wake up but the gun didn’t have any bullets. I ran around and cried for Lucifer to get me out of the dream, but nobody showed up.
Some man carried me around when I called for Lucifer, but I couldn’t see him. He didn’t feel like Lucifer. I tried to sleep with him because I was sad and lonely, but he couldn’t get hard. I didn’t really care what happened to me at that point.
Nobody in the mall knew who Lucifer was. They didn’t even know what spirits were either.
Before I fell asleep I said that the only present I wanted was to spend time with Lucifer. I guess that was asking too much and worth punishment.
Am I as hollow as they say? How can I be hollow when I have so many spirits living inside me? True, they are trapped. True, many are dead. True, many are old memories. But are they all hollow? Empty? No.
They wail, but that is their song. I want to let them go, but I cannot. Too far gone. They would not leave anyway. This is their home now.
I consume souls and they become a part of me. Extracting them would be extracting a part of myself. No, instead they are caged. Locked in a place that I try not to dwell on.
Why do I keep them? Why are they here?
When I feel them, I see their lives and their deaths. I see them as myself. I see through them as if I am them. Death lives and dies vicariously through his unfortunate clients.
“Hell is a place that you carry with you.” Indeed. Hell is inside me. I lock it up and wear the key around my neck. I am a gatekeeper. A groundskeeper.
They will be remembered. I remember. I hold them. Not like a mother, but a stern father. I remember everyone. I forget, consciously, but my bones remember. My soul remembers.
One day, my sister will join them. She will have a special place. A garden just for us. The crow and the dove. Caged, but happy birds. Free from the rest. Able to rest.
What does divinity mean when you cannot protect your own people? I have failed you. In ignorance I have failed all of you.
I can only grant you a safe crossing and perhaps the blessing of forgetting. May you only remember when it is truly useful for your growth. I, on the other hand, will make sure the living will never forget you and the pain you faced. We will not forget. We will know and we will attempt to prevent further damage.
Genocide will not be forgotten by those who can prevent it. It shall weigh heavy in our hearts as a reminder of our past indifference and ignorance.
I dreamt of a small child. She belonged to someone else. She was probably only 2-years-old. She had golden blonde hair. I wanted to keep her. She was like sunshine. I didn’t want to give her back to her parents. I never saw who they were, but I didn’t think they were very good at raising her. They just let me carry her around and never looked to see if she was okay. Either they completely trusted me or they were just absentminded parents.
She reminded me of my daughter I had to give away. My daughter who would grow up to dance in the fields, barefoot and carefree. Dirt at her heels. Always running or dancing. She would wear flowers in her long, honey-blonde hair. She would be a child of the earth. One that I could never reach. Only through whispers would she know me. She would never know that I helped to give her life. She shouldn’t. She would feel pain, but I could only watch without intervention.