When he was young, he met a very singular person. More singular than him. A story about an adolescent Joseph.
The Elephant Man (Joseph Merrick)/OC
cover by: me
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Joseph saw things he couldn't explain in Saoirse's eyes when they seemed to change color. His father thrashing him. Him on the street, jobless, as a vagrant. Then a piece of film as if it was a photograph he wasn't allowed to see. When he realized, he had passed out, and woke up with Saoirse playing the piano she hated, beautifully.
What he wasn't allowed to see disturbed him even further than if he had known about his death. He asked Saoirse about it, but she said that such "holes" in the Sight were on purpose, things that were taboo to be revealed, but someday would surely be known and he would feel. She also told him that the Sight sometimes showed things that were to come, to prevent them passing. But that was a rare event, for it only occured to the pure of heart.
While she talked through enigmas, he eagerly tried to absorb this new philosophy.
"So then" started Joseph "The images I saw yesterday are still come to pass! I'm a sinner like any other, seeing the future should be forbidden!"
Saoirse smiled, complacent.
"There are still a good few amongst you Christians," she rebuked, acidly, "And you must know you're talking nonsense. Every God is one God and let's leave it at that. You have never received kindness from a Christian, especially your own devote family."
Joseph lowered his head. Then said, facing her.
"Granted. But I'm not this kind of Christian, if every God is but one."
Saoirse smiled proudly.
"That's why you've seen a little of what is to happen to you."
Joseph wished he could smile at her. She spoke like a wise woman and was just 13, his own age.
Saoirse felt the energy of his thoughts and could probe, somehow.
"Yes, I am 13, I am your age, as your Sight fortells you. But I'm no wise woman. All I know I learned from the Mother, the Crone, my Granny. She is the face of the Goddess to me. But I'm afraid I shall never know the face of the God. I am the Maiden, the Virgin Huntress and shall remain so. The Goddess has many faces."
Joseph was amazed. Saoirse seemed to be in trance. But somehow, all of her words got under his skin. He had to talk. He knew it was not her anymore.
"The only face of the Goddess is the Virgin Mary." he said, solemnly.
She laughed, derisively. Her hair seemed even more red. Her countenance, severe.
"Poor children! You are slaves of your own omnipotence! Self-assurance will be your disgrace! Oh! I see fire! I see them burning!"
Then she emmited a racous, piercing scream and passed out.
Joseph surely knew he would never forget that. It was the strangest and scariest fit he had ever seen anyone throw.
