You happen to wake up in the morning… fully dressed? A headache ravaged your poor fickle head as if it was being stomped on by a satanic child. Please stop. Please stop! The room seem to spiral around, and a nauseating effect attached itself onto you from your feet all the way to the center of your head—like the feeling was coming straight from hell!
What did this to you? Was it something you ate? No… You knew exactly what caused this, and its malicious entrails where still residing in the cartridge slot of your Sega Genesis—Lurking not just in the shadows, but in your subconscious. You played Sonic the Hedgehog, the infamous game itself. It might be a sign. No… You shrug. It's just a game… That is all it is. You will get up, and continue on with my day. Perhaps you're just tied? The best part of being dismissive, is… well it doesn't matter anyway. Sonic was just a bad experience, nothing more, and you probably will forget about the whole thing tomorrow.
You get out of bed, and begin to deliberate your wardrobe for instructions. Despite an extensive catalog of positive Christian wear, you knew of only one outfit that would fit your academic needs: your school uniform. It was the standard grade 10 uniform at Royal Christian Secondary School. Black pants, a blue robe, and a golden Victorian vest. On a usual day, putting on this particular outfit was long and tedious, but for some reason day… was different. You wanted to get out of your room and off to school as fast as possible.
After dealing with all of the chores and personal hygiene of a teenage child, you stop briefly to succumb to your traditional affairs of the heart. Bending deeply into your knees, with your hands reaching far away, you offer yourself to the hands of god. The deep, warm, and muscular hands of God. And you sit there in silence. Your mind flickers quickly to the unappealing gameplay that you had undergone the night before—Oh God, What would you think of me? You shock a little bit in your place as your thought about Sonic the hedgehog. Somehow trying to seek out to god just felt wrong…. Like God wasn't the one you were naturally supposed to pray to. Then who then? Why was your mind driving yourself and tearing itself apart with this ill brand fantasies…
You assume your normal position, getting yourself the proper time to straighten yourself. But somewhere, somehow, this slow pace was annoying to you. Quickly grabbing a knife off your wish-chest, you grab its blade and watch as it slide along your arm. The pain, it was intense, but this was a commonplace kind of pain: a training exercise on your focus. Draining all the evil away from your heart. Once again, God had given you its blessing, and you are once again whole. Putting disinfectant, a slight cotton dab, and a long line of medical tape on the area of interest, the wound became as aesthetic as it was functional.
You finally open the door, the entrance to outside your room. You look back to the game cartridge. Sonic the Hedgehog… Is what they say about that game… no.. That THING…. It is true?
Your father sees you as your leave. He looks down to see the patched out wound.
"Ah… Good boy!" Your father nonchalantly pats your head on a job well done. As you walk away, he hits your butt; another one of his signs of affection. It is nice to be loved.
You make your way to the kitchen. A steamy, but modest, breakfast was prepared. Raw eggs and lentil stuffed in a breaded Fish. The best part of breakfast was being reminded of Jesus Christ. The raw eggs and lentil were made to embody the guts of he who died for our sins, the fish to represent the vessel of Jesus's generosity, and the bread to represent the common man. You think about what life would be if without the Virtues and God that made it all look pretty. All people would be doing is consuming copious amounts of drugs and selling their bodies for petty change. You have 25 cents in your pocket and you didn't even need to sell yourself to someone else. Atheist really were sick…
"(y/n), would you care for do the offering for today?". Your mother said with the sweet sound of femininity in her voice.
"Of course" You said, with the sweet scent of quality breakfast in your nose. But you wouldn't say you were lusting after it… That's a sin and that goes against your Christian instincts.
It was the job of a man to do the daily 'offering' every meal. How else would you show your love for God and all the things that were wonderful on his earth? The fish, which of course was boiled alive, was made to survive the process of being prepared, impaled, and breaded. While carefully grabbing the ceremonial dagger blessed by your church, you slit the throat of the fish and listen carefully to the sounds of its askings. It is said that as an animal is sent to heaven, it can pass on the wish of God as it leaves this world—reminding everyone of the virtues and commandments that others would have to faithfully follow to share its fate. It was a breath of fresh air to your otherwise morbid morning.
But this time, you could hear something else. You could barely make it out, but in your heart you knew what it said. Sega …. Sega….. Sega. Each time it sounds the closer it sounds to you.
A shiver goes down your spike. What have you done? No matter how far you run, its too fast.. He's too fast…
"Are you okay, my son?" Your father gives you an eyebrow, the same eyebrow you hate.
"I-II .. uh…" You stumble over your words as you are still in shock. You mom couldn't help smile.
"Oh that reminds me of the first time you did your offering. You were 5 and you wouldn't stop crying…" You mom almost sounds like she was about to laugh, but seemed happy to remind you as a baby.
"Mom, Stop it! You're embarrassing me…." You barely manage to blurt out.
"Whatever, can we eat now?" Your sister smile a little too eagerly. But then again, women couldn't help but be a little gluttonous sometimes.
"Dear! How unlady-like of you! We are suppose to the fish as it passes. Now everyone, hold hands." Your mom spoke what was expected of her. Everyone knew it was coming. So everyone held hands and your sister was prompted to make the blessings for grace. Once it was all over, we began to eat the lovely meal in front of us.
Once it was all said and done with, you decided to make your way out the door. But before you do, you stop. Something bad is about to happen, and that feeling will never go away. It drive inside your storage like a worm eating away the intestine of your body like a sawing needle weaving in and out. You look back at a cross hanging on the wall. Knowing that you might need its protection, you quickly grab it and hang it around your neck.
Unbeknown to you however, the cross's chain broke the moment you went out the door. Not even God can save you now