The games of spirits

Her eyes seemed to burn with fire; alight with a feverish madness. She preferred appearing in the half-light of scented candles; to portray her face like the moon. She seemed careless in her movements, but walked with a slow, stubborn grace. 1

Her face was one of ambiguous apathy. 2

She walked, burning with corrosion. Sightless reflections sparked her face with harrowing benevolence. Fervidly, she would entice you to play games; she would lead fantastic stories, clumsily deceiving her ardor. Creating, her greatest pursuit; To destroy, her imperative curiosity. That, they whispered of her. 3

I cannot say it now, in human words; she seemed caught in an elegant stupor. She was gaunt, her features rigid, yet she smiled with infinite graciousness. Her hair, a dark, mellifluous honey, shadowed her incredible eyes; boarded with red, impenetrable, yet so juvenile. This creature be mortal? 4

I invited her to sit. I could feel sweat building up on my brow: courage had never been my ally; I had taken refuge in this quiet town. And now! This devil had come to bother my quiet, pious musings; what could I tell her? 5

For a second, I sat in awkward silence. But determination plagued me; I resolved that the mightiness of the Lord would guide me.6

“Arianna. We are worried about you.” I looked at her, assuming my scolding, disproving countenance. 7

She looked towards me, markedly unchanged, almost reinforced in her apathetic indifference. 8

“It brings me pain, for the Lord weeps when his children fall into sin. Do you know why you’re here?”9

“Mischief, I suppose.” She smiled, suddenly, quite sincerely. Her eyes displayed a sickly fierceness. I sat, quietly bewildered. She now looked like a rose, shrouded by virginal innocence; and yet, she seemed to be tempting patience.10

“Do you admit you have done mischief?” Something flitted in her dark eyes, if only for a moment.11

“Wickedness is the virtue of magnificence.” She looked lost, melancholic for a second; misplaced in the echoes of the empty, somber church. There was just a fireplace to warm it; its crackling merriment the only sound. 12

“Wickedness is the virtue of fools. Magnificence, you say? Which creation can come from destruction?” 13

She curved her eyebrows, almost mocking. 14

“One must destroy to lay the foundations of creation.”15

“My dear, you play with words. Miss Harriett has always been good to you. What can be achieved with taunting her?”16

“She is wicked.” I looked at her questioningly, but she sat silently, lazily. 17

“Wicked?” 18

“Look at her. The very embodiment of self-pity. She cannot speak without drooling; she walks stupidly, like a drunken animal. She spits through her rotten teeth when she speaks, and coherence seems unknown to her. What a soulless, worthless creature she is. Spends her days with the simplicity of fools; for her mind is empty, her ways crude.” 19

Her countenance became more and more frightening upon pronouncing these words. A black, disquiet turbulence overcame her ways. Her whole soul seemed to shake. 20

I listened, quietly, afraid to reprimand.21

“Arianna! Your personal views of Miss Harriet do not justify your perverse actions.”22

Calm serenity overtook her once more. 23

“Perverse? Why, fire is the beauty of life, don’t you find?” Jocund madness dispersed the darkness on her face.24

“Fire is as powerful as our freedom. One must not play with dangerous things.” 25

At this, she burst out in hysterics. Laughter rang through the chapel; a boisterous, visceral laughter which tickled my spine. I cringed slightly. 26

“Dangerous…is it not dangerous to sit here, now? Certainly, the owls of heaven will be watching. They’ll surely think me devilish, won’t they? My danger is elegant words…indeed…” 27

“Do not mock those above us, Arianna. You have yet to find your limits.” At this, she hunched her shoulders, all playfulness gone; in her wake, a painful, clouded desperation took over. I was now confronted with an ageless, timeless spirit. Her eyes shone opaquely; her breathing, a thundering predicament. 28

“Feel you no remorse for what you did?”29

“I dare say, she had never been so alive. I should apologize for awakening her?”30

“Oh, for the Lord! You set her on fire! Fortunately, it was put out immediately. But what do you think the good Lord thinks of you now?”31

She looked annoyed, and the apathy started creeping back, leaving no room for passionate considerations.32

“The good Lord has failed me.”33

“You have failed the Lord.”34

“Senseless pig.” I stood, suddenly. I could not believe her insolence; and with such resolved sincerity. She looked at me, droll; all of this was entirely irrelevant to her.35

“Where is your modesty? Where, your countenance! Have you learned nothing from the word of Christ, Arianna?” 36

“You warn me of everlasting fire. Well, I have no other desire, but to burn.” She was then, a monster. I could see it, the freedom throbbing in her veins; she was too incredibly alive for mortality. I could see the gusto forming in her mind; the pleasure at continuous combustion. 37

I had no words to say. Always, she had been a scary child. With such passion for all things! She would chase the butterflies, madly, for hours. She took pleasures in all things green, bright with hues; her heart overfilled at the sight of wonders. 38

But always, so cautious, so composed. It seemed she no longer wanted to bother with the façade. 39

“I have no place among soulless wanderers. Heaven, what a brutal place. To think, I will spend eternity in company of my mother; of Miss Harriett, perhaps. What cringing madness is this! I want none of this heaven!” Her fierceness shone almost sulkily. 40

“Arianna, Heaven holds eternal bliss. No more worries, do you understand?” 41

“Confound bliss, my dear.” She suddenly stood up. 42

“Imagine…a land where there is freedom! Where one may lie in nakedness with nymphs, in passion’s light; a land of poetic words, of forbidden music. Of pleasures, and great heights.” She moved erratically about the room, conceiving one of her whirlwind fantasies.43

“Morality is the consolation of paupers.” 44

“Morality is the virtue of kings; if one can hold it in the face of fickle grandiosity, he is virtuous.”45

“You preach the virtue of weakness!” 46

“Be humble, Arianna. Know your limits, otherwise you shan’t find any magnificence!” 47

She turned to me, suddenly peaceful. 48

“Is God not the only limit?”49

“Well...”50

“Ha! I will be off then. It’s time for you and I, oh God!”51

Eyes glinting madly, running with spasmodic force, she leaped for the fire place, and burst into flames. 52