Sinners (SAINTS #2) | ✓

0.5: backstories

THE SEVEN DEADLY SINS
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i. you've known hunger before you ever knew anything else. before the stars, before silence, before grief. hochigo, they call you; you don't even have a name to call yourself. in the stars you imagine your parents, but they never smile at you. when your arms cling around your thin body, it almost feels like an embrace. at sunset you fill your empty stomach with dreams, at daybreak with nightmares. love is for the blessed and you are not one of them, that is another truth you know. moonlight screams dance in the humid air and you run away from them, stale bread clutched in your hand like an anchor. once you let it go, you'll drown.

ii. money doesn't buy you happiness, they say, but they are all smiling in their beautiful houses and you are here; shivering, lonely. the streets are no place for a child, but where do you belong then? this whole country isn't yours, just that of your mother, who left you behind as soon as she could. you hold raindrops in your palms like diamonds, the warmth of the sun is your goldmine. in the morning you reside in broken temples, of gods long forgotten, and you pray. parakalo, you whisper. no one answers. so you leave your heart behind between the ruins, and at night you take it all.

iii. beta, your mother says, that stubborn personality of yours will be your end one day. you look away, because you'd rather die than admit failure - and in the end, she'd rather see you dead than imperfect. she arranges the flowers in the house: yellow carnations, orange lilies, asphodels. when you find them again in the trash later, withered, it looks like you're looking at yourself. one day you accidentally leave all the candles in your room on, but admitting mistakes is for fools. when you return all you see is ash. in the morning light, it looks like roses.

iv. the first time you felt pain you were three. the man who called himself your otec painted you black and blue and you cried, but no one listened. the scars form faces you've never met and they all say the same hateful words, burning into your skin like the yellow sulfur on the battlefields. it blisters on your skin and you scream - yet again, no one hears you. at night, dreams escape you, nothing there in the trenches except you and your tremors. god bleeds out next to you and you laugh. there's only anger now.

v. to khoshkeli, they say, their smiles like wolves, too sharp, too wide. your body never felt like it belonged to you, like nothing ever has. the only thing you own is your hatred and you wear it well, it wraps itself around your throat like lace. hands roam your young body and you imagine your teeth snapping through bone, but instead you put them together and smile. beauty isn't a gift, that you have learned long ago, or at least not one meant for you. when you close your eyes, you are nothing anymore. it's the most at peace you could ever feel.

vi. the only memory you have of your mother is a lullaby, softly sung, like a prayer. ever since she died before your eyes you can't sleep anymore, ghosts haunting you at night. fa la nana bambino. the bags under your eyes become darker and darker, along with your thoughts, and you swallow pill after pill; blue, white, pink. fa la nina, fa la nana. at night you drink with your insomnia, it laughs at your stories and you swirl benzos in your coffee like sugar. nei braeceti della mamma. when you close your eyes, you can hear her voice.

vii. there's always been something calming about the forest. in the trees you trace your father's face, one you only know from pictures; always smiling, never there. you've always seen the world in black and white, but at times the green seeps through like venom, when you put all your effort into something and still are not the best, when nothing is ever good enough. it's no wonder though, even to your father you're second place. the police man puts a gun against your head for the color of your skin and you close your eyes. perhaps it has been enough. he leaves you, crying on the grass, and when you tie the knot around your neck, even then you don't feel in control.