Perfection of Evil

So this is a piece that I wrote once again, a year and a half ago. Reading it over again, I'm not terribly fond of it. However I do like the concept..

The skies were grey that day, an occurrence that, since the purge of the last distortion, had become rare. I suppose we should have realized, taken that dismal atmosphere as a sign of what that day would mark.

                Lizzie was always the complicated one, always making the daily rituals such a bothersome event. It was like there was a different flare to her, one that if provoked had the capacity to scream out in rebellion. However one could never imagine why " we are free here in our state, under our state.

                I believe Lizzie had been in school with the rest when the one that was called “Sophia” came into the community. The radiance of her outward beauty glowed especially bright in the dull and grey landscape. With that stunning smile, perfect shape, and voice as smooth as glass, it was not unusual that Sophia was instantly integrated into the state’s system. There is no doubt that she is perfect.

                Upon completing the assimilation procedures, I can recall Sophia being placed in the Eye district. I spoke to her there once while paying the respects to the state head. She had stood in front of me as the Beckoning Music played throughout the community. She had chosen to speak to me, and I fumbled for an intelligent answer as she squinted her eyes in the sunlight and leaned away from the reflective glint of the window. She is perfect, her very being somehow seeming to climb above that of the others. She is kind to all the right people, and draws in all her peers with her overpowering essence of popularity and long flowing locks. The state soon appointed her female representative " thus dictating her as the ultimate image. It wasn’t long before she found her faithful followers; every young citizen in the city strives to imitate her perfection. I know I do. But to be fair, when I say all, I mean all except one.

I remember the bitterness and suspicion that would strangle Lizzie every time Sophia entered the room or the conversation. Citizens soon started to notice Lizzie’s difference and subtle resistance to the way of things. Unlike her peers she veered away from Sophia and her standard, and she started to reek of imperfection - even defiance and deceit. It seemed she sensed something peculiar about Sophia, and it seemed she would stop at nothing to find out what it was.

The memory itself I feel to be repressed, but in the shelter of this story now, and for the sake of discoursing history, I believe the state would allow my digression. Lizzie, that divergent, had not been compiling with the state’s order; it seemed she wanted to be as distant from Sophia’s perfection as possible. The state could not have that, allowing even the slightest hint of rebellion from the ideal would result in the pollution of our perfect structure of humanity. As would be assumed, her attempts to resist the Sophia image and lifestyle soon made her appear grotesquely deviant. The communal spirit of peace that domineered the citizens was obviously fleeing Lizzie’state, as new and foreign emotions such as anxiousness and paranoia emanated from her like a toxic mist.

 I had watched her follow Sophia home that day; how foolish of me to think that it would amount to nothing. Clearly Lizzie was merely trying to find the source of Sophia’s perfection, but what she saw instead is what I think drove her to her absolute mania. She had watched through the window as Sophia had entered her bedroom and hurried over to the community-standard dresser to replace the white sheet that had fallen off its mirror and onto the floor. As Sophia had stood in front of the mirror, shaking out the crumpled fallen sheet while her skin gleamed in the light, the breath caught in Lizzie’s throat. The colour drained from her face as it watched the mirror’s reflection. Course, black and glistening fur now encloaked the bulking figure in the mirror. Huge hooked and merciless claws hung from the beast’s paws, and fangs like that of a cobra glistened in its mouth as slick murky venom leaked from its jaw. And oh but the eyes; blood red rubies that glowed with an enrapturing capability that was no doubt the source of the creature’s hypnotic popularity. The horrid reflection in the mirror was swept away from sight as the sheet draped over the mirror once again, and Lizzie altered her terrified gaze off the mirror and on to Sophia. Radiance once again filled the room. But Lizzie’s breathing must have regained itself a gasp too loudly, as Sophia’s head jerked around with inhuman speed towards Lizzie’s presence. Their eyes had locked, and Lizzie’s horror stricken face quivered and teared as a red smoke began to plume from behind Sophia’s sparkling ice blue eyes and a forked tongue escaped through her teeth. With that Lizzie was running, running blind as foggy tears soaked her face with salt and terror.

I suppose she was hysterical when she tried to tell everyone, I suppose her eyes lacked more life than they had before. All I know for certain is they didn’t listen. There was no way the city could allow such lunacy.

I had liked Lizzie. It used to feel like she had the ability to cleanse the room of its stale air, but I suppose now, I could not gather the difference.

Author's Note

like i said, i'm not really a fan of this anymore - but i thought it was post worthy i guess - i'm also hoping posting again will maybe promote writing to a higher priority. ..uhg.