Epilogue 1: Marisa
My mind is lost.
I feel so empty.
Like a cup without a bottom that I try so anxiously to fill.
The feeling is constant. A carnivorous hollow in my heart which aggressively feeds at my thoughts. It makes me doubt my reasonings, my actions, my beliefs. At times, my rationale tells me I can fill this void with physical stimuli; the act of submissive sex with Boreal, the searing pain down my spine as I clutch the golden hairs of Ozymandias, the burn of alcohol against my throat whilst I wallow my sorrows away.
The emptiness remains. Nothing can soothe it.
Often, I find myself staring into nothingness, trapped in a daze of reflection as time stops for a while. Detached re-enactments of the past plays out across my lids; I'm an audience member in a pantomime. I scream at the projection of myself to kiss you, Asriel, one last time instead of slapping you. I beg her - me - to cradle dear Lyra a little longer as I rest by my bedside. To kiss her small forehead and ring my finger through the curls of her baby hair, enacting more physical contact so that maybe… the present me... could remember those long-lost sensations.
My pleas fall on deaf ears.
She doesn't hear.
She ignores me just as perfectly as I ignored my internal wants and desires during those very moments.
The girl trapped within the woman, who was unable to melt the barrier of ice around my heart, still cries out today.
Nothing has changed. Regret still lingers. Ideas of what could've been had she - I - not been such a cold, unfeeling bitch. The regret bubbles into anger and resentment directed at the world that left me behind. And to cope, I've unconsciously decided that I did not abandon those I love but, instead, they abandoned me. Lyra abandoned me. Asriel,... you abandoned me. Both of you left a ghost to roam the streets of London, a shell of the woman I'd once been. The female ghoul loiters at night, like the undead often do, and commits quite heinous acts. Things I can not say aloud lest I accept them as my new reality.
Will I drown myself in Tokay tonight? Is self-harm on the itinerary? Or is it a one night stand? Take my pick of the litter and still nothing changes…
I still feel empty.
No - correction - she feels empty. I'm not to blame for my actions, remember I'm the girl trapped inside the woman. I watch her life play out in front of me, unable to participate. But in the recess of this ice queen's conscience I can find those who are responsible for this cursed existence.
Who is to blame?
Who shall I blame?
You, Asriel; an object of sin. Lyra; the product of sin.
Or, better yet, sin itself.
Just like that, I've found something tangible to blame for all my wrongs. The girl can finally understand the woman. It wasn't her fault. She was tainted with sin, the devil himself had made Marisa his muse. She was helpless. It was too late for her. She was condemned to the life she lived, the suffering, the violent acts against self. And I, the passenger in this ordeal, must endure it all.
But others? Others could be saved.
The woman had found a purpose which the girl could wholeheartedly support. Preserving sinless souls. That meaning to her life grounded her, grounded me. I had purpose. Suddenly, the cup only seemed half empty. Life, a more bearable burden. The ice melted and the girl and woman were molded into one.
The emptiness is still there and sometimes a hunger to fill it would call me back to my more toxic traits and I'd find myself wrapped up in the cold embrace of a stranger, inebriated on the floor or bleeding out. However, the medicine of purpose, more often than not, did the job. Past regrets were easier to forget but the future is, unbeknownst to me, bleaker still.
All I know is no matter how full I become, I'll always miss you my loves.
My Asriel.
My Lyra.
Marisa's mind slowly fell back onto the plane of reality as she rubbed away at her eyelids, wishing away the obscurity of her previous haze.
She'd zoned out.
She had to stop doing that.