one day i got a gift from god and the day was golden and dusty. i was on a hill and gods hands dropped from the clouds and god said ‘i have a charge for you’ and the charge was a sword.

'okay okay' i said. i hadnt talked to god much at this point so i didnt know how formal to be

'this is your charge. raise it.' from gods hands came the sword. it was small and made of rocks and bark and leather. it lay in the grass, it lay in the dirt. it was a sword. 'it is you child' gods hands went back behind the clouds and it was silent and i looked at my child, my charge, the sword.

it looked useless. a sword made out of rock. it wouldnt be able to cut for s***. the handle would rot if left in the rain. i hope god didnt make this because i would like to think god is a competent craftsman because god did, after all, make everything else. is my dna held together with bark and leather? f*** i hope not

i pick up the sword with my mouth. why did god give this child to someone without thumbs? god shouldve given me some hands as well. god didnt. god hates us

the sword starts to scream. okay. okay. thats weird. and unpleasant. okay. the screaming goes into my teeth directly and shakes the bones in my head away from each other. i feel it liquify my skull with sound and i drop it back into the dirt. it screams there too

why is it screaming

i dont want a sword at all, i dont want this child charge anymore, i especially do not want something that screams like this i cant see right anymore with the screaming  why the hell do i have this. disgusting

'stop it' i say. i push at it with my paws but it doesnt have a mouth to cover. 'stop it. stop it'

why wont it stop screaming if it had flesh i would eat it to get it to stop. i leave it at the bottom of the hill in the dirt, in the grass, and go home. the day is no longer dusty and gold and i am bitter.

that night i cannot sleep because the sword continues to scream. ‘stop it. stop it. stop it.’ i push my face into the ground. nothing helps. i return to the sword when it is dark out. ‘stop it. stop it.’

it quiets itself somehow but it still finds tiny ways to scream. i carry it back, the screams go right down my throat. i put it in my cave and lay next to it and the screams are so soft now that i can sleep. good. finally. in the morning i will ask god to take it back and give it to somebody with more child care experience.

*

back at the hill in the very early morning, with a little bit of rain, with sparrows looking at me from the trees. i had to bring the sword with me - when i leave it, the screaming becomes awful. ‘god! take it back please! i dont want this child!’

god doesnt care. i sit on the hill with the sword for an hour. the sparrows lose interest.

'please take it'

finally gods hands come forth again. they are only hands, but they look angry.

'this child is yours. you cant give it back. raise it, and it will do good by you.'

'its a sword. its a Sword'

god makes gestures with the hands fingers. the gestures say: and your point? i hate god

'give it to somebody who knows what to do with it. all i know is to eat things and fight and sleep. i have no use for a sword.'

'its yours now.' the hands leave again. i yell at the sky a bunch but then the sword starts screaming again so i have to stop. what now. what now. what now. what now

*

life is no good with this child. it is cumbersome and worse than useless. it screams for no reason sometimes and then the sound echoes into the cave, makes it like all the rocks are screaming too.

i leave it then and the screams are heard all through the forest. it wont leave me alone.

i sit in the cave and chew on a root. the screams are soft now. i think it might be sleeping.

*

one day the sword is quiet and i know there is something wrong in the forest. something that needs to be eaten. it is near.

these are the things god wants me to do: raise this s***ty child and keep people away. thats why god talks to me and gives me a little help and lets me speak. it is also why i live alone and will never have real children and why i dont have to eat. i think this is death.

the help god gives me are in disguises. the disguises let me get very close to people so that they are not alarmed. then i can eat them. i dont know why god wants me to eat people.

i get up. time to eat.

when i return the sword is screaming again and in a bad way. i am disgusting now - i do not like to eat people. their blood is on me and i am impure. i scream back at it. i scream until i have no voice left. it does not have this problem. it will never stop making noise. i lay back and the noise makes me blind and i can no longer feel my body, or the bodies i have consumed. this is not sleep, it is insidious, it is not restful, but i cant move.

the noise goes on. i wish i could throw up

*

no animals like me. they know i am different. and now that i have the sword they all seem to hate me. animals have a different idea of what is holy than the beings that can think and they know i am very very bad. they can see something on me like a sickness but i am not sick, i am never sick. they do not fight me because they cannot win, maybe they know that what i do is good. but they do not like me.

they hold nothing for me anyways. they do not matter.

in my cave is crystals and water. the crystals are so sharp but i walk on them anyway because it is hard to feel pain. my feet will bleed. i can wash it off in the streams. some of the streams are clear but some run in colors. none of the animals can drink from them because it makes them sick. all the caves water burns my tongue but i can drink it.

i dont get sick.

the sword doesnt need to eat or drink. of course. it doesnt have a mouth. i think it likes being by the crystals and the streams though. it doesnt scream then.

i still have to drink. god says it keeps me pure. i dont beleive god. i am full of filth, the mineral waters cannot clean me. god says i have to though. so i drink with the sword beside me now and i let water drop from my mouth onto its blade. it doesnt scream then either.

im glad. 

*

life changes weirdly. i dont have to leave the cave. the screaming makes the crystals grow. the light from the sky is strange and makes it hard to see, like i am seeing in a dream. i dont have to eat people anymore even - god tells me to stay put when they come. the sword will scream in a way like my bones are being pulled out and then it stops and i cant even breathe. which isnt a problem for me, i dont have to. 

whatever is out there is taken care of. i dont have to leave.

my skin starts crunching too. i dont like to move. it occurs to me that im turning into rock or something like it. that is okay. the sword starts changing too but i cant really tell how. again, it is becoming hard to see.

god talks to me one night, directly into my brain, and says that whats happening is okay. i trust god this time. i think im coming to the end of my usefulness. i dont see how the sword can replace me but god can. i grow cold and moving hurts me. pain is a weird emotion.

i cant barely see by now, but all the crystals are so bright to me. something carries me to the streams deep in the cave so i can drink. it must be what the sword has become. i cant see it but it is even brighter than the crystals. maybe the crystals reflect it. maybe thats whats going on. it carries me to drink and puts my mouth to the water. the water no longer burns. my tongue is so slow.

'what are you now?' i ask it. it responds in screams. it still cannot talk. i dont think it ever will be able to. it can only scream. 'do you have a mouth now?' i put up my thumbless paws to its face and search for a mouth. its face is soft now and roughly warm. it has a face. so strange.

i do not think it has bones or skin or flesh, so i start to think its an angel. every time i feel it, its form has changed. one day its face is human shaped. then later, i cannot find where it ends. i can sink my stubbed fingers deep into it and never find bones but its membrane will not break. i think i am living with an abstract concept at this point and s*** do i pity the thing that sees my child now.