Chapter 20
I did not speak to Merek. There was nothing to be said. Looking out the barred window, I folded my hands as if in prayer, not that it mattered anymore if I chose to do so or not. After all, my sentence had already been set.
“Even in here, you search for that light of yours.”
He must think me a fool, basking in the single ray of light which sneaks its way through the thickly barred window. Yes, it was indeed barred, for it was indeed a prison. But was not my previous room a prison as well? True, this place plays more the part, as it is lit only by the light that comes through the tiny window, or a candle if I am given a match. However, neither my previous room nor this one is much of a prison. Although it is a bit chilly and dark and small, it is still furnished nicely. It has a separate room for washing, and I have the privacy of a door. Neither the furniture cramped together nor the smallness of the room bother me. I am not shy of small spaces. I was, after all, not always an aristocrat.
“Mother, you failed,” he whispered through the door. He spoke through a small sliding panel; it was designed for guards to look through and required a key to unlock. The door was far enough up off the ground that my meals were slid under it; therefore, no one needed to come inside, and so no one needed the key. I am sure Merek is the sole possessor of the key.
“Mother, are you listening to me?” he spoke childishly. “You know you failed, Mother. You are falling into my plan just as I knew you would.”
I did not look at him. I continued to stare up at the tiny window that was ever so much smaller than the one in my previous dwelling. Oh, so much smaller.
“I knew your foolish truth which you cared for so deeply would be your downfall. Your obeying of your precious God’s law was your fault. And you know that it was your obedience to Him instead of your fear of me which led you to this.”
Breathing a sigh, I spoke without turning to him, “If we live simply by our fear than we will not live long at all. God is there as our strength, to combat fear and the devils out there in the world, devils who reside within the darkness of people’s hearts, in your heart Merek.”
“Do not mistake me for one of your silly, fairy tale creatures, Mother. I am not interested in your fruitless stories of your foolish God.”
No longer able to take his heresies, I turned to him with burning cheeks. “I assure you, my son, that these so called ‘fairy tales’ have very much a meaning to them. And you, Merek, were raised loving and knowing of my God, whom you repeatedly insist to be foolish and false! Oh, my son, you are subjected to His laws whether you acknowledge them or not!” I found myself staring at him through the open panel in the door, our faces close, separated only by the space between them. His eyes hinted at anger then they subsided into their nothingness. “I would tell you to repent, but I know you have killed all of those who could save you. And even if there were some who still lived, I know you would not seek their help, for the devil is in you. He has burrowed his way deep inside you and fed your pride and your fear. And you, being as you are, stubborn and unpleasantly clever, have climbed your way up to the very top of our system just so that you can plant the devil’s poisonous seeds in the hearts of all this land’s citizens, to breed his heinous flock of demons.”
“You were always so adamant about religion, Mother; even when I was a child, I could see your obsession with it. For everything that was or is, God was your excuse. And even now, you blame God’s enemies on how your son has come to be where he is today.”
Reaching his hand through the little slot, he slowly moved it through my hair. “Tell me, Mother, how does it feel to be condemned by the son you yourself carried, bore, and nurtured? Tell me, Mother, how does it feel to be condemned by your obedience to the thing you cherish most in the world? By the God whom never once showed His care for you in this life, as he took away all your loved ones and dreams. No, you would blame this ‘devil’ character, would you not? You would say he is in me. But if this is so, then why does your God not save me from his wicked clutches as you would say. Why was He not there when I needed love and hope and strength? Why was it, Mother, that when I was surrounded by evil, I saw you, not God, but you. You were my God, you were my-”
“Enough, Merek!” I pulled back, but he tugged at my hair, pulling me close enough to feel his breath on my face. “No, Mother, I am not done. You were the person, the God I looked to in that place, and it was you, your words that helped to feed this demon within me. You, Mother. What irony it is that you, who love God so much, to death even, would yourself build a demon inside the heart of your only son.” Releasing me, I did not move. I could not move.
“Your execution will be public. And you should be happy.” There was a low sense of pleasure in his voice, though his face did not reflect it. “It is on your most blessed and revered Sunday.” Slipping his hand from the little window, he slid the wooden panel shut. With a final lock, his footsteps boomed down the hallway. Silence came as the door at the end of the chamber slammed shut.
Falling back on the bed that had been touching my heels all that while, I crashed down to it and cried. His words struck so true to me. So frightfully accurate were they that I could not help but cringe at the memory. His words were so harsh that I could not help but once again wonder—
How did this happen to my son? How did he change to be so…