take me before i start to change my mind

Jefferson Soul · 12-02-2010, 04:51 PM

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Could they be saved? How the hell was he supposed to know? The brute thinned his eye at the Russian; was the idiot really asking a scarred, tortured man like Jefferson that? Ever since Heath and his siblings had appeared to him and accused him of rape and murder, a new reality had been opened up for the one-eyed sinner: How many more lives had he claimed? How many more had he hurt, that now he could not even remember? Was he not even to be cursed with the memories of all he had done, to live the rest of his days out remembering the faces of those he slaughtered or rampaged?

Why was he spared that pain? Why was he given the pain of an amnesiac instead, the pain of constant questioning as to what he'd done?

"Don't ask me how to change," he barked. Jefferson didn't know how to change; he had changed only when losing his memories as Maluki and regaining his sanity. Even from the start—from the second he woke up with a spinning head and crying tears from one blind eye—Jefferson had maintained his wicked morality to kill or attack only when it was necessary. He was still the loner he was then, still the pessimist. Still the sinner. "The only one who can save you is yourself. You're not me. You can be saved."

Somewhere within, Jefferson knew he was not the worst. He knew many had done far worse than he—but the fact that he had committed those atrocities at all deemed him unforgivable in his own mind.

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