Page 19 of Sin of Love
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CAPTIVITY - DAY 20
True happinesspositively correlates with true suffering. That is, you can’t know one without the other. Makes sense, but that’s not the whole truth.
No one warns you that the more suffering you endure, the harder it is to recognize happiness. You get usedto pain. Given enough time, you accept it. And eventually, you start to define yourself by your experience and survival of it.
This is who I am.
Suffering is the cloak that shelters. The mask that protects fragile skin. And happiness is something for those who have suffered less.
There is no happiness.
Not anymore.
Only sin—past and present and future.
Marco doesn’t come back.
* * *
DAY 23
They don’t increase my drugs, but my relief is short-lived. It means something is changing, the timeline progressing. And it does.
The Bright Empty isn’t so empty anymore, which makes it so much worse than the Dark Empty. Margaret arrives every day with something new.
The key to my shackles.
Baby wipes.
Fresh clothes.
A plastic comb.
Hot water for washing.
Journal and a black crayon.
Soft blanket.
Toilet paper.
Blueberries for my oatmeal.
Milk and sugar for my drugged tea.
And finally, sunlight. She uses a long pole to open shutters on three small windows set high on one wall. My eyes water in the light, but I stare anyway. Stare until the sting forces me to blink.
I’ve missed the sun.
Of course, I knew this was coming—I lived through it once before—but knowing isn’t the same as experiencing.
How many times does a person have to break until there’s only billions of tiny particles left, drifting apart into endless space, lost forever…
The end is coming.
“This doesn’t change anything,” says Margaret, who hates me with her eyes and voice but still follows her master’s order.
