A piercing baby scream sliced through the nice sky, a primal voice cut through my skull like a blade. Not a baby overwrought by a stimulating world, but one in terrible pain.
Can’t think. Damn that
It has to be a human being reborn. Some poor child gave up on You.
My stomach churned, a price for becoming complacent. I think it was just solar noon, too. Oh, this is not going to be good. What the hell is going on.
Of course, no one blames You for this. Like You didn’t make them so fragile on purpose.
I felt spider legs of ice crawl up my spine. I could almost feel where it came from, like a cold wind. I need to find out who it is before I’m the suspect, or someone gets hurt, I suppose.
Why do You torment and taunt us beyond their limits? Don’t you want us to wake up?
That’s it, isn’t it? You don’t.
Because when we wake up it’s one step closer to you waking up. That’s worth throwing a few to the fires, eh? Are You that afraid?
No wonder we think You’re going to destroy the place. I’m starting to regret a few things I said at both turns of Julian millenia.
I never thought the phrase “made in Your image” would be taken so superficially. We don’t even see how we’re just like You.
You push us even if we’ll break, and we have to deal with the mess, not You. Another one broke, another demonic power unleashed on the world for failing to find You.
You know someone will find a way to blame me, right?
I need to get out of here.