#The fact they are converted Christians is hilarious and sad like
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melangedmess · 11 months ago
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Can't wait for Christmas fever to be over it's too exhausting
#Personal#Nothing ever good happens during Christmas#You have your catholic parents and relatives spewing the most atrocious bullshit and u have sit there like 🙎🏻‍♀️#SHUTUP#I am glad they aren't so uptight abt church & all now at least.#The fact they are converted Christians is hilarious and sad like#Christian missionaries are EVIL and I will never stop yelling about it. If something has to convince you or worse prey when you are the mos#Vulnerable then that's not a religion that's a cult. Especially led by 1 (one) person????#When that church can only ever talk abt Jesus being killed by the blood thirsty jews. Flat Earth.#or whatever bs u try to cook up. This group of missionaries have been busted on news a lot for being. funded by outside aid to#Convert more people.#I can't believe how brainwashing will have you believe the most weirdest shit.#Altho I'm thankful they weren't converted to Islam because then i wouldn't have the freedom I do now plus the horrible stories I've heard#From ex muslims#What other religion is there anyway who is so bent on converting as many people as they possibly could#To all my friends who have succeeded in leaving behind their families of both these cult-ish religions I love you and I'm glad you're safe.#It still affects me. I can't wait to finally start earning enough to leave this whole chapter behind. I've had enough.#Anyway if you can't tell or simply lack basic comprehension it's not a attack on YOU. It's a world wide phenomenon of conversion and brain#You can't deny that and I'm again NOT blaming you for it. Religious trauma is real.#The gangs or worse family members who will kill you for leaving religions is not something unknown. It's real it's true it's happening.#Anyway
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erinelezabeth920 · 5 years ago
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Love in the Time Of
Anxiety. Is the first thing that comes to mind.  Exhibit A- yesterday I woke up at 10:30 am. A thing unheard of for me without being out to 2am the night before, which rarely ever happens anymore. I generally like mornings. And it was Easter. And it was sunny and beautiful as all get up outside. I’m not a devout Christian, but I grew up going to church; I am closeted very spiritual, and I like human stories, community and meditative spaces. Therefore, Easter is usually the one day a year I like to go to church. It’s just a me thing; I was lucky to grow up in a progressive church so the guilt and pentinance thing doesn’t really bother me. My family was also just as likely to go out to breakfast at the local diner on a Sunday morning as we were to go to church. I think it was really just about the intentional time. (The hilarious part being that I grew up in a small town in Upstate New York, so we would have to leave the diner by 10:30 when church got out and the weekly patrons filed in for their cup of coffee and eggs tittering “oh HELLO Dunn family! We missed you today...” My dad would have his watch timed for a perfect exit. Today, empty nesters, my parents are devout patrons at what they call the Church of Danny Wegman, a Sunday morning grocery shopping ritual at Wegmans for any upstate New Yorkers out there. According to them, they’ve even converted a few friends.)  So anyway I woke up at 10:30 and stayed in bed until 11:30. Christ has risen, but Erin definitely did not. The stone was rolled away to find me still lying in bed. Eventually I roused myself out of sheer hanger to eat leftover pizza and pour some cold brew from a can into a glass. I muttered something angry to Andy about playing video games and not making me breakfast because it was Easter so he should just KNOW that I wanted to wake up to a nice breakfast without any communication on my part. Duh. Ressurection indeed. 
I was feeling hungry and sad and weird. You know that feeling when you sleep so much your body is confused about what time/ day it is and anything you should be feeling? Plus add the quarantine and the fact it was Sunday after a break from work aka Sunday scaries and the apartment was super dirty, because I’d been avoiding cleaning all week. I resented the sun outside, high in the sky, wishing I could roll back the clock four hours and calmly and serenly watch the sunrise out my window with the meditative curl of steam from my tea under a blanket, my cat softly lying next to me, contemplating the newness of the world.  But it was almost noon, so here we are. After I ate my cold pizza and cold brew I got back into bed, waiting for Andy to be done with his video games and check on me so I could leech his energy. I laid in bed hating myself with inner monolouge like “Bitch, if you were single HOW do you think you’d be getting out of bed right now? Strong independent woman my ass” (Answer: I wouldn’t.) Credit to Andy though, he’s nothing but supportive and reliable even when I’m shooting angry looks across the apartment for no reason over my cold brew as he chats away merrily with his brother via Fortnite. 
“I’m stuck,” I said as I laid under the covers. “I need an energy push. I want to stay in bed forever.” “Either not moving or going somewhere far away,” Andy said gently, nailing my reactions to anxiety (I had stayed up late the night before Googling School Psychologist jobs in small towns across the state). He laid down with with me for a moment, and then began breathing deeply vis a vis Terry Crews about to lift something gargantuous. “OKAY, HERE WE GO!” he yelled, and ripped the covers off, pushing me off the bed, pulling me up and and shoving me toward the bathroom with a towel. Again, credit to Andy.
The shower made me feel better. I think under all the anxiety and negative self-talk, I was really just sad. Easter has never been a huge holiday, but I always liked it in a kind of personal way, just connecting with spring, new beginnings etc. I missed my family I guess or any sense of celebration. And I get this thing like, I am a mental health professional, I teach yoga, therefor I shouldn’t have hard times during this, because I am above such petty emotions. (Logically it makes no sense, but the way our brains work it makes perfect sense.) I put on a nicer ish sweater and ripped jeans. Easter Sunday best, it’s all about doing the best we can. Our friends knocked on the door, and came in to stand safely in the doorway with a boquet of flowers and a bag of fried dandelions (what? but they were delicious I’ll have you know.) “Happy Easter!” they said. My towel was still on my head. My eyes would have almost teared up if I had been alert enough to feel emotions fully. They hung out for a bit in the doorway, pet the cat, then headed out. One of my friends had said he was practicing sleeping in to prep for a night volunteer shift, but only made it until 9:45 that morning. It made me feel like a lump. As they left, we said we’d go on a walk with them later. We didn’t. Flakiness doesn’t stop during a quarantine. 
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(flowes, fried dandelions and Felix) Andy made eggs after I complained he hadn’t made me breakfast (to which his response was, ‘I asked if you wanted breakfast and you grunted and went back to sleep.” Well... my anger is completey justifiable. Obviously.) We watched Lego Masters- Star Wars episode. It was really good. The sun fltered in. I wanted it to go away, or I wanted to have the energy to go out in it. I had a headache. My jaw hurt. I laid on the couch and read for hours intermittently scrolling through my phone and checking how many people had viewed my Instagram story, and then immediately hating myself for scrolling through my phone, until we finally found the motivation to do some cleaning while listening to a DnD podcast. That felt nice. Then we went on a walk still listening to the podcast. The characters were fighting a giant invisible spider. I felt tired, and noticed how far you could see into the foothills of the mountains. I’m scared, I said to Andy, that when things return to normal I’ll be sad. Not for like the deaths and economy and stuff, but this- that we can see so clearly to the mountains. What happens when that’s gone? We were going to cook, but felt lazy. We orded sushi. It was okay. We watched Return of the Jedi. During the Lego Masters episode one of the teams had built the battle of Endor and made all the Ewoks’ primitive weapons. It was cool. I liked all the trees and ferns. I wondered about Carrie Fischer in her skimpy Jabba outfit, how did she feel around all those men? I contemplated searching Pornhub later for spin offs and then felt weird about it.  We drank wine. We turned the lights off. The cat meowed at the door to explore outside. I was annoyed at him, so Andy took him out. Andy went to bed. I laid on the couch and listened to a Brene Brown podcast about anxiety, My jaw still hurt. Anxiety she said, manifests in two ways. I thought okay Brene, sometimes you annoy me, because not to be pretenious here, but I know more about psychology than you. But you have a real way of getting people to listen. So I’ll listen. The two ways, she explained, are over and under performing. Over performers tend to do a million things, check off to-do lists, always have a task, something to be doing to stop themselves from feeling (I’m looking at all you bread makers. Just kidding, baking bread is a completely wholesome way of coping with free time, and really I’m just jealous...) 
Underperformers on the other hand tend to shut down, need help from others, seem helpless from the outside, tend to fold under pressure, exuding low energy. Neither is better than the other, although society definitely favors the over performers. But in reality, both are just a way to avoid anxiety- keep it lurking in the shadows like the monster of a horror film, instead of bringing it out into the light. And we all know the suspension of an unknown movie monster is so much worse than after we’ve just seen the damn thing.  
Then she went into birth order; first borns tend to be more over-performers with last borns more under-performing, which is fine and probably pretty true and all, but I don’t totally subscribe to those things as pre-destined. But I did like finding a name to a feeling or habit. Naming is the first way to remove power. I had been drastically underperforming all day. And it’s not even my fault. It’s just anxiety- that all of us have, lingering in the peripherals, and our habitual responses. 
And honestly, that’s okay. I’d spent time with my partner. I’d seen friends and been the recipient of kindness. I’d gotten outside. I’d cleaned the apartment. We’d had dinner and watched a movie. We were fed, healthy and both have jobs. I’d even called my parents before they went to sleep to wish them happy Easter. Why can’t that just damn be enough? 
Before I went to bed, I watched an online Easter church serivce from a local church. It was awkward. The pastor filmed himself walking around a cemetary. And yet, somehow, it felt nice. I felt a tiny bit part of something. 
Check the facts honey. It is enough. It’s always enough. You’re enough.
And that’s love in the time of. 
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randomnessunicorn-imagine · 7 years ago
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❇️  CUPHEAD FANFICTION ❇️
{ Finally, I wrote the fourth chapter of this long fanfiction. First, I want to thank the dear @afrozenwaffle09 who’s been my beta reader and I was totally lost so THANK YOU A LOT!!!
I hope that you guys will like it, I had fun writing this and I put a lot of effort, yep-! This reader is truly a charity case, poor dear-! }
IF YOU WANT TO READ THIS STORY ON AO3
>>> 1st CHAPTER <<<
>>> 2nd CHAPTER <<< 
>>> 3rd CHAPTER <<< 
>>> 5th CHAPTER <<< 
>>> 6th CHAPTER <<< 
Pairing: King Dice x Neutral! Reader Rating: Orange (some thematic in this story can be considered blasphemous and harsh)
🎲  Wicked Game [ fourth part ]
It was a cold November afternoon and a group of lazy, grey clouds covered the sky that was as black as petroleum. Trying to keep warm in your coat, you observed the other little clouds that came out from your mouth as you breathed the cold air. Even your lungs were frozen but, this was not a valid reason to complain. The weather was still the weather, it could not be changed, and it was the same temperature of your heart. You felt comfortable surrounded by the cold.
Months passed since the mortal sin of your mother and, from that day, you have never discovered her committing the same action again. Your mind was overshadowed by awful visions of your mother, accusing you of her own sins, while she was ruining your skin hitting you with her belt and hands. As if you were a beast and not a human being or creature of God, because God would have never permitted something like this. Maybe it was another lie and even the Supreme was laughing at your misery.
She said, you were the reason why she did it, you were an unworthy child, and because of this, this did not make you innocent. You had assisted in her depravity, you were a spectator and this has made you a sinner just like her. Your lies were only the beginning of a life filled with perversion and immoralities, your mother kept saying this because she wanted you to feel as guilty as her despite this you did not possess a fault.
You smelled the fragrance of rain in the air, it was pleasant and relaxing. You liked this scent, and you hoped it would rain; you wanted to feel your face caressed by the raindrops, as if those little drops of water were gentle kisses from the sky. A cold embrace.
Another reason was because, you were tired and wanted to go back home, not being here with your mother to walk from house to house to convince people to convert themselves in the true faith, their soul was damned and they had only one possibility to save themselves by follow the light path of redemption. The path God chose for them. You spent every Sunday with her, after the Holy Mass, and to wander through the city. Searching for some lost sheep but you did not think it was useful to invade people’s privacy and waste their time hearing the same old stories they already knew. If they truly wanted to follow this path they would have already chosen it.
The words that your mother were saying did not reach your ears, you just nodded with a blank expression, observing the edge of the street in front of you it that seemed to not have an end. A drop fell on your nose, and you raised up your head seeing the clouds become darker. Before the rain started falling, your mother already knocked on the door of the person who was going to listen to her sermon that you already heard a million times. She did not care about the weather and she would have persevered through her mission, even in a storm. Somehow, you estimated her determination even if she was determined in the wrong way but, despite her evident errors, she kept fighting for her values and believing in her duty. It was absurd how a person could lose oneself in these illusions of eternity and in these splendid lies. Your philosophy of life was changing and you were waking up slowly from your sleep. Maybe, all her slaps and punishments helped you to conquer a new awareness of reality.
At first, no one answered to her knocking but she did not give up so she knocked again with more fervour until the door finally opened. It revealed a robust and rude man who did not welcome your mother with a kind and friendly greeting. She was used to this hostility since people were stubborn, but she was more stubborn than them and they were going to listen to her words whether they wanted or not.
This man appeared neglected, your nostrils were invaded by a horrid smell of alcohol, that resided from his mouth, and his expression did not hide the lust and perversion since his eyes were burning like two fires.
Your mother did not care about his appearance; in fact, she seemed satisfied because he was the kind of lost sheep she was looking for. She came to believe that those whose soul was lost for sure could be noticed by the way they looked, their sins were not hidden under a mask of falsity since their exterior represented their interior.
“So how can I help you?” the man barked with a voice full of irritation, he pretended to be polite it was blatantly obvious .
“We’re representatives of the Church. We’re here to spread the word of our Saviour, Jesus Christ.” your mother talked with solemnity and pride, the man just nodded, inviting the two of you to come inside. You were sure he did not care about the Word of God so you were getting worried, this person seemed very unstable and strange but your mother appeared so inflexible in her decisions that you did not know whom you should have feared more between her and this weird individual.
The house the man lived in was as sloppy and dishevelled as himself, you would have noticed the dust imprinted on the pavement. Nevermind, it was a cockroach. After seeing this you felt so disgusted that you refused to sit down on his couch until your mother screamed to do so. You followed her orders while the man kept watching you with the strange pair of eyes he had. Then, he lit up a cigarette testing your mother’s wrath.
“Could I ask you to put out your cigarette, please?” said your mother with severity.
“Why should I?” he did not seem interested in her request and blew a cloud of smoke in her direction.
“I don’t think it’s so adequate to smoke in the presence of a child.” she was talking about you, as if she truly cared about your health and, as if this man had the gift of omniscience, he laughed because by one look he understood what kind of hypocrite  your mother was.
“Oh, inadequate? In the same way it’s inadequate seeing a child who preaches the word of God.”  his voice was not harsh as he looked at you with an expression of pity. Your mother felt offended by his affirmation and she did not consider herself a bad mother and not even as a bad human being.
“How I decided to educate my kid is none of your business, sir.” her voice still tough as a rock.
“Yes, even if I think it’s a waste…” for an instant, you noticed a vicious gleam in his eyes and as his true nature manifested itself you remained confused. A few seconds ago it seemed this man wanted to help you, expressing his disappointment over your mother’s choices. No one could know what he meant with “waste”, and your mother kept ignoring the fact that you felt uncomfortable here.
“Anyway, we’re not talking about them. I may guess that you, most of all, need our help to find a place in this world away from sin and temptation.”  from her bag, she extracted a brochure that contained information about her beliefs, but the man just yawned and scratched his belly. Your mother gasped at the sight of this.
“You don’t care about leaving such a miserable life without faith or God.” she was shocked but the words that the man was going to say made her more shocked.
“I’m atheist, so I don’t believe in this bullshit. I only believe in facts and myself.” your mother made the sign of the cross while you kept your boiling laughter at bay. It was hilarious in its own way. For your mother, these were the worst sinners, they refused the existence of God.
“Why did you welcome us in your house if you don’t even believe?” your mother was being to feel like she was wasting her time with this horrid individual.
“Because it would’ve been rude to kick you out, I’m an open-minded person, after all. I listen to other point of views, at the contrary of certain Christians.” you could recognize a sort of cynicism in his voice.
“Oh, Lord. Saucy words, maybe you still have time to be redeemed for your sins.” she said, leaving some brochures on his table. This situation became very strange and not even you knew what to think about it.
“I don’t search for any redemption, I may be a sinner but I’m still free. Freer than you, Madame.
I made many mistakes in my life and lots of people have suffered because of my egoism and bad attitudes, they should be the ones who have to forgive me and not God. I took the responsibilities of my errors, and we reap what we sow, it’s true.” his eyes acquired a shade of melancholy and appeared mortified while he thought about his past. At least, he could say he was free to make mistakes but, at the same time, to learn from them because life was only one and it was too short to hold a grudge.
After a pause he continued, “None of us have the right to decide another person’s life and it doesn’t matter if you’re their parents. I’m not perfect but even a discarded member of society like me can understand it’s wrong”.
Then, the man looked into your eyes like he was scrutinizing your soul, and you felt naked under his enigmatic sight, but there was no malice or hostility in his stare, only a sharp ting of sadness. Taking you unprepared, he asked, “Is this what you truly want, little one? You shouldn’t allow to your mother to control your mind, nobody should.” he thought that children should be free to play and have fun with other kids. Not follow the little twisted fetishes of a crazy mother. It was unfair, you knew he was right, it was not only affecting your physical health but your mental health also. If you kept following this path she chose for you it wouldn't end well.
A silence encircled the room and your mind was frozen as if an avalanche fell over everyone, a sentiment of desolation took possession of your heart and you began to tear up. The truth was always hard to bear. This was the harshest thing you had heard in a long time. The cruel, ugly, and disgusting truth of your life, but oddly enough you were well aware of it. Maybe you were just pretending not to be conscious of it since there was no way you could have changed your situation.
Outraged, your mother stood up from her seat, taking your hand with a fury that made you jolt, running away from the habitat of this odd but sincere sinner who did not do anything wrong but saying the truth. Despite what he appeared to be, a dangerous and creepy person, maybe he was only sad. Maybe this world made him this cold hearted and frustrated. You judged him too early and, after hearing his words, you were going to leave your mother and her awful house too search for another life, a brighter future, for yourself.
At least, that man was honest with himself unlike your mother who wore masks. This made her appeared to be didgent and respectable woman but, under her humble appearance, she hid a ruthless monster that she was not rid of. She was the one who had to be pitied. From that meeting you learned  many things and started seeing the world in a different light. There was something else other than this misery. You were determined to discover what was hidden under the veil of lies, where your mother stored you.
 * * *
The current in your brain began to circulate and you came back to reality.
You were lost in your thoughts often. They were awful thoughts of ancient times and the experience you had seemed unlike your own, because of this you made a point to remember your memories. These dreams where nightmarish and not very enjoyable. But you were determined to keep them.  As time passed, you were losing any trace of sanity you had. You couldn't even recall the time because you lost the count of minutes or hours you found yourself in another dream like dimension in space.      
The monsters around you were sneering and laughing at, you being their favourite form of entertainment. This made you felt dead, unworthy, sick and, those monsters were not the only creatures who were observing you. There was another man who was studying you and, you had almost forgotten about him, since he remained silent until now. As if he did not want to disturb your train of thoughts. Maybe he was able to read your mind, but there was no way you could know.
“Good morning, sleepyhead!” said a cheerful voice, and then you remembered everything; you blushed because of the rush of embarrassment but Dice did not seem angry and he found it amusing in your distracting ways. At his words, you gasped, unable to speak, you just nodded, and sighed.
“It seems you didn’t sleep very well last night, if you kept daydreaming and losing your little mind so often.” Dice spoke again and being concentrated on him made you forget about your mother. The thought of her was killing you inside. King was right, you were very tired and because of the nightmares you did not sleep that night.
“My mind is tricking me… the nightmares torment me even when I’m awake…” you were unsure if you were talking aloud or if you were thinking. To distinguish dreams and reality was very difficult at this point. Dreams or reality, both of them were surely dreadful.
“You can rest when this game will be over, darling. Don’t be afraid, I will offer you a place to sleep if you desire.” he would be happy to sing you a lullaby or assist you in sleep, but he did not mention the possibilities since he was still professional but, he did wink at you. From this gesture, you could understand the rest of his thoughts. His flirting confused you so much that you could admit it was pleasant, and actually, it did not make you feel uncomfortable. You were able to find your lost sanity and your brain was taking possession of its faculties again.
“Uhm… It seems I’m unable to control my mind and it’s painful…” all the monsters in the room started screaming and insulting you because to them you seemed pathetic. They wanted to see you burn with the Ignavi*, the half-hearted souls who never chose on whose side they were on (according to Dante mythology). They detested dull people because they were not good but not bad either. They just lived their life without an aim, following the flow. They were just useless people no one would cry for, since their existences were a big question mark.
Turning around, infernal glances looked at you and you covered your ears, closed your eyes, because of the horrific looks. You were not like this. You did not consider yourself like an Ignavo. Yes, you were unaware of many things and you did not know yourself very well but you wanted to live, you desired to discover something new and fight for it. You could not cry or hear their voices anymore. Slowly, the voices were becoming similar to your mother’s, it was another trick of your mind, another hallucination. Those were the same words your mother kept saying when she saw you sad and you could not permit her to win. You could not have your ghosts defeat you.
“Oh, poor little darling. I promise, you’ll never feel gloomy anymore and with time you’re going to forget all your sore reminiscences. You’re so tormented, it’s unfair.” your visions stopped the moment Dice spoke, his voice was filled with comfort and kindness. You should have just focused on his words. Only his words.
“It’s logical… If I’d die, I’d lose my memory and everything I am will disappear into the oblivion.” you answered with legit scepticism.
“Oh, I didn’t mean that, it won’t be a death but a new rebirth.” Dice said with his usual confident tone.
“It’s just nonsense!” you answered with a trembling voice.
“No, dear, donating your soul to the Devil, you’ll be truly free. Free to be whoever you want, without any worries and even those memories will not torment you anymore. Only faded echoes will remain of them.” he silenced himself for a little while, staring you in the eyes with his alluring smile, before speaking again, “That’s what you desire, isn’t it?  Stop to feel sorry for yourself, and rejoice at your new beginning!” the confidence in his voice was incomparable and he was already sure you were going to lose your soul. Even you were unsure about your true fate since his discourse seemed very convincible. Maybe he was right, you only had to surrender in front of the fact that the only way to find your freedom was to give up your soul. Enjoying the place where there were no hypocrites or shame, you would have followed your instincts. You had carried yourself to the lowest level possible without any care. Maybe it was all a trap because Hell was still Hell, and Dice was talking about it with way to much positivity. He was talking about it like it was the most marvellous place of the world.
The break was over. Yet the game kept going, and your dice had to be launch for the last time, since this was the decisive match. The one where you would lose your soul or where you would keep it. The crowd went wild and you called back all your not so high hopes.
“I’m surprised you’ve come so far, congratulations. Whatever will happen, it’s been nice to meeting you. We’ve had fun together. I wish you luck, sweetheart!” even this time, he demonstrated  gentleness and his words almost touched you. Your gestures appeared hesitant and unsure that, when you were preparing your launch, new memories crossed your mind and you found yourself catapulted in those realm of nightmares. You did not notice the dice that rolled in front of you, since everything was spinning around you instantly blacked out.
* * *
It was another Sunday, one of those Sundays where you and your mother searched for some lost lamb to convert, because it was never enough (for her, at least, you were sick and tired of this stupid practice).
This time a pale sun was shining and you were lost in your thoughts as always. While your mother was ranting about her usual sermons and predictions your ears automatically closed themselves so you wouldn’t have to listen to her rant. Then your eyes were caught by a group of women who were on the roadside.
“Why are you not paying attention to me?” your mother squeaked. When she met your eyes she looked in the same direction, finding the women and she gasped, realizing what kind of women they were. She said with a disgusted tone, “Oh, Lord! Look at them, they’re lost sheep who cannot be saved anymore. Repugnant! They sell their body, the gift Jesus gave to them, to make money! They’re dirty devils, don’t look at them and pick up your pace!” your mother ordered you while she looked at those prostitutes with contempt, despite this she did not know them. They were just laughing and talking to one another and you saw no harm in their actions, let alone sin.
Focusing your gaze, you recognized one of the women. She flashed you a smile when your eyes met. You remembered that woman, because you have seen her before when you had to do some errands for your mother in the market. Even in that situation, she smiled at you and her smile was the most enchanting thing you have ever seen. She was selling flowers and not her body, so you could not label her as a sinner. That day, you felt very sad and alone so you decided to go for a walk. You walked with your head down until she approached you, donating a fresh flower for you. It was a pink rose, beautiful and scented, you did not understand why that girl was giving you a rose but this was the very first act of kindness you have received in your life. Then, she walked away, giving you a fleeting smile. Clearly, her intent was to make you smile, and she did not ask anything in return. This was a real act of generosity.
“Hello! I told you to stop to staring at those diabolical women, they’re worthless, trash!” your mother took your hand, yanking you. You did not agree that those women were diabolical. It was just another false hood that came out of your mother's mouth.
Despite prostitution, her heart was generous and pure, she would not burn in Hell for this. It was unfair and you refused to believe in this atrocity. Your eyes were filling with tears as you saw the women disappear beyond the asphalted horizon.
As the famous French poet Léon Bloy said, “A saint can fall in the mud, but a prostitute can climb to the light”. Once the priest of your Church said this phrase explaining how everyone could sin and give in to temptation but, with the same possibility, even the worst sinners could find the light of God if they truly believed. In that particular situation, your mother did not pay the proper attention but you were still sure that her soul would have burnt in the flames of Hell.
You have never encountered that woman again and you hoped she was fine and found her way in this complicated and horrid world. That she has been luckier than you, since it seemed nothing has changed and you were still here, screaming and moving in your sleep. Until you woke up and, this time, reality showed in all its tragic chaos.
* * *
Nobody could tell how much time passed since you lost your senses in front of everyone.
Your last memory was confused and far away, your head hurt and you had no clue where you were now. In your sleep, you kept moving yourself. Sighing you woke up and opened your eyes revealing a luminous chandelier that blinded you. Then you realized that you were not in the casino but somewhere else, in a mysterious room. You were lying on an enormous bed that was not yours. As you took back your consciousness , your thoughts became lucid again and you remembered reality. A moment ago, could also be an eternity, you were playing a game that would decide your soul’s fate. But you felt normal, a little tired but you could say your soul was still in its place, inside you.
You did not remember the result of the game, if you won or if you lost, since you fainted the exact moment before the dice stopped rolling. It was the last thing you saw and then the oblivion of your nightmares captured you in their abominable grip. You were glad you woke up since you were truly shocked and this situation was driving you mad.
Your bones and muscles ached every time you moved, and your forehead was wet as you sweated in your sleep. Like if this was the first day of school, you did not want to stand up, because it was painful and you needed to sleep in more. Actually, you wanted to sleep without any worries, a dreamless sleep.
Like the time before, a warm voice welcomed you, “Rise and shine, darling.” you recognized that voice, because it was stamped in your mind. It was his voice and you gasped, jumping as if you saw a terrible monster. Then, you surely did not feel like the sun ready to rise and shine, you felt just like a meteor that was going to crash on the ground. As you were hoping out of bed, he chuckled and you felt more embarrassed than before.
Yes, you were in a luxurious chamber that was covered in gold and shining objects. You had never seen something like this before, since your home was humble and modest. For a moment, you thought you were in another dream, until he spoke again, “Are you alright, dear?” said Dice, chuckling again, you did not know how to answer because you were so perplexed by his voice.
“What’s happened? Where am I?” so many questions exploded in your mind and maybe these were not enough to resolve your doubts.
Dice was seated on an armchair, with his legs crossed, observing you with his usual inquiring face, and then he said, “You passed out in the middle of the match”. He did not seem very shocked about it, maybe he expected it from you since you seemed a very problematic person with some issues with fainting. He continued speaking, “We’re currently in the break-room of the casino, I couldn’t leave you outside, rotting on the floor, it wouldn’t be so decorous.” his voice was quite cynical as if he helped you to keep his well mannered imagine. And not because he was preoccupied with your situation. Not that you wanted to be devoured by all those monsters.
“Oh, well…” you massaged your head, thinking about his words and that you were still in the casino still alive, too. You supposed he kept you alive only for your soul… Yes, your soul. What was going to happen with it? Were you going to lose it? Your eyes widened as you tried to express yourself, “What happened while I was sleeping?” it seemed that Dice wanted to keep this secret for himself. He smirked, placing his hand under his chin. His gaze was so curious.
“Oh, dear, I’m very impressed and you couldn’t believe…” he left you hanging on but his smile never left his face, “On one side, I’m really sorry but, other the other side, I feel honoured to have known a lucky person like you.” in that moment you gasped because maybe your odds were wrong and maybe…
“Have I won…?” you asked with an insecure voice. It was incredible, how could it be true? You fainted before the end of the game, in the maximum status of suspense, you were unaware of everything.
“Exactly, dear, I said I’m impressed, it’s unbelievable!” he did not lose his confidence, not even for a moment and his smile kept shining. Your soul was safe despite this you could not help but feel unhappy about it and you did not know why but Dice was about to make you remember the reasons of your sorrow.
“You are free to do what you want of your life now… you are free to go back to your comfortable and lovely home.”  as his eyes became green, his grin stretched wide he played with your little mind, playing with your fears. When he was doing this he in turn figured out how you hated living in that house with that monster of a mother. Your expression became duller and you lost it because of the unfair circumstances. Yes, it was unfair, you won but you felt like a loser. You just lost your time and now without finding a solution or the true freedom.
From your mouth, sighs came and then you were trembling like a leaf, while your mind recalled those awful memories.  You were fighting very hard to get rid of them but it seemed useless, “N-no…! “, you said in a whisper, you felt cold but the cold came from inside you.
“Oh, darling, what are you doing? Are you afraid? I could accompany you at the exit, if you want.” Dice got closer to you, placing one hand on your hip and with the other hand he caressed your wet cheek.
You were doing your best not to cry in front of him and you found the courage to say, “No, I don’t want!” you tried screaming but your words got locked in your throat so he just patted your back.
“You’re not forced to go there, you’re free. You’re not made for that life, it’s shameful, they ruined you…” his soft smile helped you to calm yourself a little more even if you could not trust him but you could bet, anyone in this world was better than your mother. Your personal Hell was already your home. Nothing could be compared to that, and no one could compare with her perfidy.
“I’ve nowhere to go… I-I…”, then he silenced, placing his finger on your mouth.
”Shhh… Don’t worry dear, only Death has no solution… If you desire, you can stay here.” and his eyes returned back to green and you noticed an evil grin on his face but it last few seconds, and then he returned confident, “You still have time to change your mind.” and maybe he was going to win his prize despite the defeat. Dice was right, you would have given your soul to him anyway, because you were too desperate.
“You're in control of your own destiny.” pronounced Dice, using similar words of that man you encountered.
You wanted to be the one who decided your own fate for once and, even if those decisions were wrong, you would be the one to make that mistake. You were not going to regret it. You did not care anymore!
There was no difference between Hell and Heaven, maybe the only difference was the hypocrisy that painted the sky. You chose to stop with this life made up of illusions. This was the path of the damnation, the one your mother hated so much. You did not know what was right for you but, at this point, anything was important and you were only a human without a place in the world.  
“At least, I’ve nothing to lose…” his eyes got brighter because these were the words. This made him very proud of you, and he caressed your cheek, nodding.
“I’d be glad to be your guide, it will be extraordinary! You can consider me as your Virgilio, in this voyage through Hell.” but, on the contrary of Dante, you were not designed to go to Heaven and there was no Beatrice who would help you, no God or Saviour.
You were going to donate your soul to the Devil of your own free will. It was something paradoxical, only a true desperate person would take a decision like this but there was a lot of time before it happened and Dice had his own plan for you, a plan he has not even revealed you yet.
Then, he spoke again, “I hope you won’t live to regret it…” there was no turning back, he would say but he didn't. He gave you a blissful glance, inviting you to sleep since you appeared very tired and this huge bed was very comfortable looking and soft that you were unable to deny.
“I’m so tired…” these were your last words and this time no horrid dreams were about to take you. “Just rest your little head and everything will be fine…” after hearing his words, you have been catapulted in the embrace of Morpheus.
It was time for you to lose all your hopes of this mortal life because another one was already happening because…
Abandon all hope, you who enter here.
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 Ignavi*: I did not find the proper translation in English for this word, so I used the original term used by Dante Alighieri. The “Ignavi” are those damned souls (sinners) who are located in the “Anti-inferno”. Those souls are not welcome in Hell and not even in Heaven; they are those people that have never taken a decision by themselves. They have never lived their life. They cannot be defined as “evil” but not even as “good” so they are useless. They are also those people who have never had their own idea and they just followed other’s, they had no personality. I imagine that the reader is seen as an “Ignavo” because of this reason, since they appear very neutral and they are afraid to think with their own mind, so this makes them easier to manipulate.
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