I stare at the body infront of me, I see my own eyes staring back through the mirror. a look of pain crosses through them, a look filled with sadness as I scanned through every memory each scar brought to the surface.
I remember what each and every one is for, each and every sin committed, every consequence that made its way onto my surface. My surface. My body is tainted by my sins, waiting minute by minute as I tally all my horrid actions throughout the day, waiting to be added to.
People always say that physically collecting sins is a horrible way to handle the pain, but as I let my eyes travel to each clouded memory, I come to the conclusion that I belong to no one but myself.
Truly, if this is what makes me learn from my mistakes, is there a problem? If this is the only thing that teaches me, can I ever stop? If the collection ended, would people look at me differently, as if I'm a fragile bomb, set to go off at any moment?
My sins must be met with consequences, and with that notion I ready myself for the pain that comes from my own actions. I watch as my canvas is stained with red and feel a smile grow on my face.
This is what true sin feels like.
YOU ARE READING
raine's short stories
Fiksi Umumjust a collection of small stories i've written! they aren't organized anyway, and don't correlate with each other.
