The Creature

The Creature

A journal-response to the Epistle of Hebrews

I can feel the temperature fall as daylight's steady descent against the window pane completes. Adjusting my eyes I turn the handle and switch the lock. Then I hear it; a low, advancing growl from a corner in the room. I raise my eyes in hesitance to unveil the unknown and meet the gaze of my abhorrence. The creature's skin is stretched tightly between four large talons, and its legs have sporadically growing hairs that increase in length, growing thick at a protruded spine. The teeth are showing, broad and rigid with lips too emaciated to conceal them. A large tongue laps hungrily at its open gate. One eye is swollen shut while the other peers blackly through a thin aperture. The ears of the animal spear upward, skittish and tense. Every breath expands a crooked ribcage to the point of breaking. It has not veered its gaze and focuses on me intensely. Assembling my courage I speak to it:

“Who are you?” The creature adjusts without loosing its stare, massaging the floor slowly and causing grooves to form in the wood.

“Do you not know?” it replies in a deep, entrancing voice, “Or is it only that you now fear my presence?"

"You are not an enemy I've known", I rebuttal, watching it sway forward slightly and glean with a sort of hunger, un-purposed. 

It responds, "Oh but I know you. Since the beginning I have studied your face. It was long ago when you first came to me. Your intrigue was lofty and my mouth whispered assurance. I gathered you up and poured out my poison. You took it gladly; you took it often. There was rarely a night you did not call upon me. Like an addict entranced, you knew I was able. With me, your name remained intact and your dignity went unscathed. I kept out the daylight and hid you from the mirror. My breath was cold as the winter, and your wounds remained frozen. In medicating you, day and night, your once fragile heart grew its shell, beating less often. However, not an ounce of your precious blood was lost. There was never a time your gratefulness to me was voiced but your company was relentless, and that was enough. I have lived here knotted in your midst for years, and now you ask for my name?”

“No!” I exclaim, pressing back against fear and bewilderment. “How can this be? I have never seen or known the evil of your presence! How did you come to me? What disturbing event has brought you here now?!”

The creature only grins, “Child you are confused. The room in which you now stand was not always your own. When you first came to me our visit was brief, and months passed before another came. But soon you began to frequent my door. Afternoons became evenings and evenings became nights. You left items you were sure to miss. They became heavy – a burden to carry, and so remained in my care. My company was more sufferable than returning home and thus, my adoption into your life more self-endorsed than all else. Your seat is worn and your bed is made. Come and sleep Child. You are home.”  

“You must tell me your name!” I cry aloud in disillusionment. 

"My name? My name is Indifference.”