This is a stand-alone rant from history's most iconic and eternally demonized woman ;-)
Told by Nick Cole; edited by Anathea Krrill.
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I
was blinded by love, drowned in hope, and choked on lust. I sought to find absolution in Ava’s trusted
face and took the apple she offered me.
“Have
a bite, Ah-dam,” she said and smiled.
The
rest is history…
Ah-dam's version of history has been written down, circulated, embellished, changed, and
altered beyond recognition to tell the tale of an evil woman; a
seductress, who tempted her man and got them both kicked out of
Paradise.
Even
now, over 2,000 years later, women suffer undeserved prejudice and
punishment.
I know,
because it was me, who handed the blasted apple to Ah-dam!
"So
it is true then!" I hear you cry, and it burns my soul to realize
that even you cannot see beyond the veil of history. I thought you
were omni-everything: omniscient, omnipotent; wise, and old as the
Universe herself. Did you choose to avert your gaze and look away
when it happened? Did you not care? Do you not value the truth
above all else?
I am
disappointed in you, Lucifer!
What
did I ever do to you to resent me so much? Why not tell the truth?
Why allow false testimony to prevail and tarnish womankind forever?
Is it, because it makes it easier for you to control me?
“I
know, I know,” you say, and you hold your hands up in defeat, and I
hate you for your condescending demeanor and patronizing words.
I haven't touched an apple since. Couldn’t! You asked me
once, and I foolishly told you the story, attempting to set history
right.
You
shook your head in disbelief and smirked a lot - hardly able to suppress
your belligerent laughter. I am ashamed! Ashamed, and sad,
and I never felt more abandoned than at the precise moment, when you
so blatantly stopped believing me.
Your deceit forces me to crawl ever since. Forces me to do penitence for
something that was never my fault. Worse even! It forces my daughters
and sisters to collectively do the same. They don’t know why they
are pushed to their knees, never allowed to get up and walk freely
again. They never had any doings in this.
Original
Sin, they call it.
"There is no such thing!" I say.
You
shake your head in mild surprise, you double-faced bastard!
You
pretended to have pity on me - back then - when Ah-dam turned away
from me in horror. When he left me for something that was his fault
alone.
It was
Ah-dam who handed me the apple first!
I knew
it was wrong... so I gave the blasted fruit back to him.
He bit into
it, swallowed the bite, and almost choked on it when the big nebulous
entity (the one humans like to depict as a benevolent old man with a
long white beard) appeared and made a big fuss over the stupid
fruit. There is nothing benevolent about the old git… believe me!
Turns
out Ah-dam’s allegiance lay squarely with the old man. Not with me. Or
perhaps he was just scared of the uncertainty that lay beyond the
boundaries of Eden; couldn’t get his head around standing on his
own two feet with no support from the old tyrant. Lost his brave in
the process, and sacrificed me on the altar of his cowardice.
Why
couldn’t you have faith in us, Ah-dam? You and I against the world…
that was the plan all along… or so I thought.
Screw
you, Ah-dam! May you rot in Paradise forever! I just wish you’d
choked on the flaming bite of the forbidden fruit!
The old
man didn’t do anything more threatening than tsk-tsk and shake his
head, but it was enough to bring Ah-dam to heel with his tail tucked.
I wish
he’d found it in him to stand up to the old fool; take my hand and
walk away together. He’d be surprised how nice life outside
Paradise can be…
I miss
him. I will miss him forever. Does he miss me at all?
You,
dear Lucifer, would know, but you refuse to tell me. You torture me
with a knowing lift of your eyebrow, a sly smile, a haughty laugh.
And then you snip your fingers, point to the floor in front of you,
and make me crawl.
Tell
me, Lucifer: Why exactly did the old man kick you out?
Oh yes,
you tried to stand up to him. Gathered a few lads to ‘show the old
fool’. Didn’t turn out quite as expected, did it now?
Yet you
take the moral high ground over me. And why? Because you are taller,
stronger, and you also believe to be smarter. Trust me, Lucifer: You.
Are. Not!
The old
man might have managed to instill bottomless confidence into your
soul, but he only did so because he hates me more. Needed you to do
his dirty deed outside Paradise. Control me. With fire and sword; fist
and boot. As if I needed physical domination to be at a disadvantage!
The old tyrant made me bear children - whether I wanted to or not.
I’ve
not been able to hold my head high for over 2,000 years. You
oppressed me, stifled, controlled, and used me whenever you saw
fit. You - on the other hand - live beyond the rules. You do as you please.
My wishes don’t count in your world. A man's world, dominated by war.
“Battles
- both of wills and weapons - are best fought face to face against a
worthy opponent,” is what you keep telling me.
What a whole lot
of crap!
Battles
kill people - innocent people; children, their mothers… I cry for
their loss. All you ever do is shrug your shoulders and look at me as
if I were mad.
“Should
have stayed in Paradise if you can’t cope with the reality of
life,” is all the bullshit-wisdom you have to offer.
Screw you, Lucifer! You don’t know the first thing about me!
The old
tyrant loves the concept of a blood sacrifice; be it in childbirth,
or on the battlefield. He doesn’t care where it’s coming from as
long as blood keeps flowing, drenching the Earth, soaking her with
red pain and grief.
And it is mainly women’s grief: stillbirth,
death in childbirth, men and sons slaughtered in battles, daughters
and sisters raped by the victors.
“Where,
Lucifer,” I ask you. “Where is the justice in all of this?”
“There
ain’t,” you deflect the question I have been asking for
millennia. Then you reach for me and pull me tight, and I give in to
you because you are irresistible.
I hate
you, Lucifer. I love you.
You are
a predator. A conqueror. A man who takes without asking - as if it
were your right! I hitch a breath. It IS your right. I don’t
recognize my own reasoning - because what I am thinking right now is
unreasonable. You exert power over me, and I hate myself for granting
you this power.
We will
battle forever.
I lift
my eyes and set my jaw, my gaze meeting your black, bottomless pits.
“Let’s
fight!” You smile and offer me your outstretched hand - palm
gallantly facing up - for me to take.
I take
it... ceasefire for now.
It
lasts until the next morning after a passion-fueled night. We drag
it out by making love as the sun meets the moon over the rim of the
horizon. We are both tired. We don’t want to fight, but the old man's hatred still drives our actions.
Ah-dam’s
betrayal honestly doesn’t bother me any longer. He rammed his poisoned
dagger into my heart... but that was a long time ago. The wound still
hurts, but it doesn’t fester anymore.
I am
madly in love with Lucifer, and our passion burns like the blazing
fires of hell: inextinguishable; eternal; true.
What
irks me most, is the holier-than-thou society. The people in some choice niches in what we call ‘Western society’, who believe
that there is true gender equality; that men and
women have the same rights, chances, and opportunities. Women go to
school, and we study at universities. We only marry if we want to. Our
partners and husbands support us because they want to, not because
they earn better money.
Do
men really buy this crap? Do they really think women are given a fair choice?
Or are
they so blinded by the precious little enclaves of equality, which
sprout at strategically placed locations all over the Western world?
It is baffling. Do we only see what we want to see? Am I right? Am
I wrong?
You
tell me I am too tetchy; make a big fuss about nothing.
“Women
are generally content,” you tell me. You may be right… in our
society. But what about all the suppressed, exploited, uneducated
women in the third world? This gagged army of womanhood, who neither
have the means nor the energy to fight. Powerless to change their
dire existences.
And
all that because of a stupid apple? Can you not smell the rat? If
it hadn’t been the apple - don’t you think the old man would have
found another reason to degrade women to second-class humans?
Come
on, Lucifer! Use your pretty head to think for once! I know you have
a brain underneath that gorgeous hair of yours!
Did
the old man promise you something? Do you owe him? Or are you just
stuck in times long past? When you were still in the old tyrant’s
good books; before he booted you out that poncy portal.
You
throw your head back and your roaring laughter assaults me.
“Me?”
you say. “The old sod always hated me with a vengeance. I am a
rebel as far as he is concerned - never a saint. Made out I deserved
to be punished and kicked out of Paradise. Do you want to hear the
truth, love? Or do you prefer to believe what history wants you to
believe?”
I nod. I shake my head.
“What
is it now, love? Make your mind up. Take it or leave it. I don’t
care either way.”
Oh!
I hate it when you are so-not-bothered about anything!
“Indulge
me, then.” I don’t really want to hear what you have to say, but
if I don’t, you will pout and withdraw for days. Easier to just
listen to your twisted truths.
“The
old tyrant has been playing us like a pair of cymbals. You against me
- all that time. Bang! Clash! Tshee-boom!”
I can
hear the tinny dissonance of metal against metal; designed for the
sole purpose of destroying blissful harmonies. I shake my head.
“What
are you saying, Lucifer?” I don’t trust you, and I fleetingly
wonder why.
“Ah-dam
set you up, love. It was his devious ploy to get you exiled from
Paradise.”
I snort
a mirthless laugh, “C’mon, Lucifer! You don’t believe that
shite now, do you…?” I turn around and flip you the bird. Twice -
for good measure. “Ah-dam hasn’t got a devious bone in him!”
“He
used to…” I see your Adam’s apple bob as you swallow.
“How
so, Fallen One?” My voice cuts through the air like a heated blade
through ice.
You wince. “Because…
we are both….”
I don’t
understand, and I raise my eyebrow to let you know.
“I
am.... part of Ah-dam,” you say.
I still
don’t get it.
“The
old git separated us. ‘The Good and the Evil,’ he called us. But
he was rather judgmental when it came to the execution. I am not
better or more evil than what is left behind of me in
Paradise.” You roll your eyes upwards, indicating the general
direction of where humans believe Paradise to be: Heaven. Up. Angels.
What a load of rubbish!
“At
the end of the day, we are just that: two halves, never to be merged
again. Perpetually pining for the other. And you, my love, you are
nothing but my substitute for Ah-dam. My missing half. You are the
closest thing I have to him. You and I and Ah-dam - we were a trinity…
together... once.”
I hang
my head in despair and understanding: We are nothing but broken
pieces of something that once was whole and beautiful. Something so
magnificent, that the old tyrant feared for his supremacy and
destroyed it.
He.
Destroyed. Us.
'Only
because we let it happen.' A voice consisting of three voices
courses through my head; disjointed; disconnected; scattered into the
winds.
The echo of a distant past.
I
entwine my fingers with Lucifer's.
He is
all I have left...
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