Mental Musings from
The Marginatrix
...because sometimes I just need to share my thoughts.
My brother is two years younger than me. As children, we shared the bedroom adjacent to the kitchen. My bed was on the exterior wall; a window stood between his bed and mine. We often drifted to sleep to the sound of my father whistling while he emptied the dishwasher in the next room. One night, I was woken by the sound of the window next to me being opened. I opened my eyes to find the devil attempting to steal my brother. That was not something I would allow. I jumped from my bed and grabbed my brother’s arm. The devil was insistent. He began to climb from the window, holding onto my brother’s other arm. I could hear my father in the kitchen and began to yell for help, but he couldn’t hear me. The devil and I, we battled for possession of my brother, until finally, he gave up and left empty-handed. We went back to sleep. Oddly, the following morning, my brother had no recollection of the event which very nearly changed his life. My father claimed he had not heard me call out for help. The important thing is, I saved my brother without any help, and as a result, his soul belongs to me. 2020-04-15
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Elizabeth J. Connor
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