Man That You Fear (Marilyn Manson)

Part 3: The Condemned

  I felt the warm little hands resting on my arm as I laid there in bed on my shirtless stomach, and recognized them of my baby girl, Evangeline. My eyelids fluttered open wearily and I looked up to see the back of Evangeline's head and Elise standing a bit behind her in our sliding glass doorway. I started to raise my body off of our bed and Evangeline took her hands from my arm and walked around the bed and out of the room. My long hair slid over my shoulders and fell down my back like a waterfall and I sat up, the sheets covering me from the waist down to my ankles.

  My heart thumped and I knew immediately what was happening, what would come of this day. The child with the sack on her head had already turned in a circle, her arm extended with the scarlet flag in her hand, pointing. I lowered my eyes to the floor and felt myself become a but lightheaded as it sunk in that she'd stopped turning at our house, pointing here, sentencing us to the fate that could not be escaped in our community or anybody else. I slid my hand off the bed and reached down, feeling for the gallon water jug beside my feet and picked it up. I placed the lid on my dry lips, my hands shaking the smallest bit, and took a swig of it before replacing it beside me. Then I took a deep breath and arched my back, letting my head fall into my hands resting on my knees.

  I had always known that this would be coming someday, that our house would become the House of the Condemned on The Stoning day. I breathed calmly, telling myself that I shouldn't have expected anything else, convincing myself I'd known all along. With my eyes closed in resting in my hands, the dark seemed like a place of comfort, killing away the unidentifiable feelings that raged inside of me and keeping me from the light of the real world that I sat in at the very moment. I didn't want to waste what last morning I would get here though, and I took my head out of my hands, looking up at Elise.

  She stood there beautifully in the doorway, her hands on her stomach, her hair blowing lightly in the wind that blew easily through the open door and windows. Her light dress blew also in the small breeze and her face was indescribable and nearly expressionless. The light in her eyes, the sparkle that was always there when I looked into them seemed to be dying slowly, though still gorgeous to me like every bit of her. She was the most perfect and stunning woman I'd ever laid my eyes upon with the most amazing and wonderful personality and being of anyone I'd ever known. The first time I'd looked at her, really looked, I could not make myself tear my eyes away.

  We trudged on to where The Stoning would be held many years before, the person to be stoned crying in front of us. I didn't have anybody to walk with, my family had left me here long ago and I'd never known or cared what happened to them, so I walked alone. I looked down to my right and noticed the pretty young girl, her head down, staring at the ground as she walked. I narrowed my eyebrows and tried to get a glimpse of her face, wondering why I'd never seen her before. Finally, she looked up at me as if she'd felt my eyes staring at her and looked into my face.

  I stared at her breathtaking face, more beautiful than I would have thought it'd been with its smooth and rounded features, perfect in every place. Her thin and gaping mouth and her brown hair blowing around her face. And her eyes, her medium brown eyes with a slight tint of amber in them that matched the color of her hair...they were the most delicate and soft eyes I'd ever seen. I tried to force my gaze away, but I couldn't. She stared back at mine with the expression that I could not explain. We stopped walked as we reached the place of The Stoning and went along with the procedure, having no other choice, then walked back beside each other again silently. I saw her nearly every day after that until I made myself talk to her, learn her name, something...and finally asked her if she would go out with me.

  I looked into her eyes again now, reliving all of the other moments I'd cherished when doing the same then, and moved a few strands of hair out of my face and to the side of my head. She watched me carefully as I studied every inch of her face. "It's us, Marilyn," she said in a quiet and calm voice, the same that always reminded me of soothing sounds like the slowly blowing breeze. "It's us." I dropped my eyes to the floor and stared into the strands of carpet, long ago stained.