I've always heard stories of the forgotten nights that people remember forever and the head aches that follow along, but never have I the chance to be apart of such shenanigans. I told myself constantly that I was far too young to partake in these wild activities. I was too young and too pure, and I would just wait until I grew older.
But along came the day that my perspective grew apart from me. It wasn't so much that it left, but it changed itself into a deformed and twisted state of opinion, so far from it's original form. It grasped onto the life I was too young for in a heartbeat, as if it wanted to change this whole time. It was as if I had lied to myself and forced the thought of purity into my brain. I was pure out of the flames of corruption, and I had only hoped to stay that way.
But there was that day— that one single day. She, my keeper, my idol of all others, begged for me to taste my new form of corruption. I was so polite to shake my head no, but she insisted. Boy, did she insist.
"But I am pure, am I not?"
I spoke these words very sharp in my mind, only to try and keep me on my feet. She nudged and shoved and begged me to try the sweet new corruption she had for me, and all I wanted was to say no a hundred times more!
But I could not. Her pleas weighed my shoulders down so far that the whole world felt heavy around me and I just couldn't resist giving my idol what she wanted.
The fight to stay upright was over.
She had convinced me.
I took the light colored bottle of corruption from her trembling hands and could smell the sour scent it let off. I brought it slowly to my lips and felt the poison sting them as I took a sip. A smile cracked across her face and I swallowed my corruption hard.
It was warmer as it slipped down my throat into my gut. So warm, in fact, that for a moment I swore the poison could burn right through my throat— my chest— my lungs. It was terrifying, but I was amazed.
Sip after sip, I felt stronger. I felt older, even wiser. I had tasted the world I was waiting to grow up for. Six years too soon, and it tasted sweet.
And from then on my perspective was a demon of what it once was; so deformed and ugly that others couldn't stand to watch it take me over.
And never again did I ask myself if I was pure, because even I know that I am nothing more than pure corruption.
© Copyright 2016 Megan Allyse. All rights reserved.