Sin Hallucinations

The last tunes of the waltz still hang in the air, echoed off in the furthest corners of the church. I carefully let go of the pedal, cutting of the tunes immediately. “So, how was it?” I ask my piano teacher. She jumps at my words. “You have improved a lot since last time,” she says. “However, the last part could be better…” I smile with one corner of my mouth. She’ll pick at my playing again.

My name is Luxan. Right now, I am preparing for a piano contest. I barely came through the first round- the competition was harsh- and am now practicing for the second round. The piano currently occupies all my time, my thoughts, my life.

***

The lesson is finally over. I almost slam the door shut behind me. Is it possible to be so picky about a waltz? If I only had her level of skill!

I am very lucky with the bus- it arrives only ten minutes too late. I take a window seat and prepare for a half an hour battle against sleep. There have been cases of me drifting off and missing my stop, since I’m often up all night practicing for the contest. Thank God for coffee and soundproof walls in the house!

It’s past 10 PM when I finally arrive at home. My younger brothers are already asleep. I pour myself a cup of strong, black tea (my mother would never allow me to drink coffee just before “sleep”), and leave for my room, carefully carrying the full cup. At my request, the piano was moved from the living room to my room, so that I could practice after my younger siblings went to sleep.

After I successfully spill the tea in my room, a sheet of paper on my desk grabs my attention. As I turn it, I see this: ''Everything you’ve ever given will be given back. Wrath, Pride, Envy, Lust.'' ''Everything you’ve ever taken will be taken back. Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Lust.'' Choose you must.

What kind of childish, demonic rhyme is this? More importantly, what is it doing at MY desk? I carefully study the crumbled note. The ink at the word “ever” is smeared, so it might as well have been the word “never”. No one in our family has such an elegant, back-sloped writing. I could barely read my parents' handwriting, while my sister was just learning to write. My heart races.

Maybe it’s one of those minor hallucinations I’ve had lately, caused by little sleep? I clench the note in my hand to check. The note crumbles, but stays in my hand, smearing ink on my fingers. I know I need to do something, but my brain feels paralysed by fear. I have no idea about what to do.

My mind goes blank.

***

I am in a dark, empty room. What the hell is going on? The only furniture here is an altar, with two newly lit candles on it. A cross barely reflects the weak light, but that is enough for me to notice that is hangs upside down. I carefully approach the altar and take a candle. Hot wax drips on my hand, and I let go of it, wheezing. I carefully pick it up again and re-light it by the remaining candle.

I discover a door by the candlelight. It leads into a well-lit corridor. After walking around in the abandoned maze of corridors for a while, I shout out: “IS THERE ANYONE IN THIS ACCURSED PLACE?” I hear a faint response several corridors away.

I meet a girl. After five minutes of a dialogue attempt, (she speaks horrible English), I figure out her name is Ira. To clarify what’s going on, I show her the note. It turns out to be a huge mistake. She suddenly reaches out for me and slams me into the wall. I never expected it. When I finally come to my senses, she is clawing and punching me with such force that I nearly lose consciousness. I push her back with all my strength, get up and run as fast as I can. ''Why would she suddenly attack me? What did I ever do to her?''

My whole body hurts. I still jog down the corridors, though I cannot hear Ira behind me anymore. As I take a sharp swing, I crash into something. It turns out to be a person- a pale, short guy with an arrogant look. His clothes hang on him. He would certainly not be able to hurt me- he had no muscles at all.

“You scared the hell out of me! Who are you?” he asks.

“You won’t start randomly beating me up, right?”

“WTF? No! Are you a psycho or something?”

I stand up, trying to keep a good distance between us. The adrenaline rush decreases, and I support myself against the wall. “I’m Luxan,” I finally mutter. “Luxan? What kind of stupid name is that?” he laughs. “I’m Hubert,” he finally presents himself.

“So, Luxan (btw, do you live in in luxury? Just joking), do you know anything about why I am here?” ''You? What about me?'' His arrogance starts to anger me. “No, I have no idea about why you are here,” I say. He looks angrily at me.

“YOU DARE TO OFFEND ME, YOU STUPID, UNGIFTED INSECT? YOU THINK YOU ARE WORTH ANYTHING? WELL, THINK AGAIN!”

The sudden shout takes me by surprise again. However, Hubert soon carries as usual: “Oh, it seems like you’ve already met that fury, Ira- you are very jumpy. Will you mind if I call you cockroach?”

And so went this strange conversation. Hubert always had these strange outbursts of insults every time I said anything that by far scale might be found mildly offensive. “Where are you from, cockroach? Oh, never mind. I don’t really care.” God, you vex me.

“Oh, look who it is! Isn’t that our friends!” he suddenly exclaims. Ira and another beaten person are walking down the corridor. My first impulse is to run. However, Hubert grips my arm and wheezes: “Don’t you dare leaving me, you insect!” His grip turns out to be unnaturally strong.

Ira does not have a rage outburst this time, though one could clearly see that she had beaten up the poor person with her. He presents himself as Vidar. “I envy all of you!” Vidar suddenly exclaims. “You see everything, while I have to cope with the fact that I only see with one eye! It’s so unfair! GIVE ME YOUR EYE, HUMAN!!!”

I finally free myself from Hubert’s steel grip. I try to escape, but Vidar is faster than I am. He jumps at me and reaches out for my face. His bony fingers brush my cheek and dig into the eyehole, piercing the eyelid along the way. I scream. I turn to the wall and smash Vidar into it. He continues to rummage in my eyehole. The pain is almost unbearable. I smash Vidar into the wall several more times until he finally rips his fingers out of my eyehole. I throw him off me and run.

The pain only gets worse. It feels like the fingers are still there, poking around in my brain. My tears blend with the blood from the wound. I stagger through several corridors before I collapse, unable to move any further.

***

My eyes snap open. The movement causes incredible pain- as if someone pulled a knife though the eyehole into my head. It hurts so much! I moan in despair.

I suddenly recognise sounds of footsteps over the ringing in my ears. They come from my blind side. I turn my head to the source of the noise. When my vision finally focuses in, I see Hubert. I receive a sudden blow in my chest. “Wh..a… why?” I croak. I only get another kick as a response. The next blow sends me over to the side. I lose sight of Hubert’s face, which was full of hatred and disdain.

The blows finally end. My vision triples. I puke.

I turn over again, just to come face-to-face with Ira. She says something I barely register. She notices it, bends over and shouts the most horrible words that I’ve ever heard in my ear. Some of the words I recognise as my own. I once called my younger sister “happy idiot” (even though I was plagued by horrible guilt afterwards), told my classmate he was trash… They were words I had spoken in blind rage.

The thought struck me. Rage. How did the rhyme go again? Everything you’ve ever given will be given back. Pride, Wrath, Envy, Lust… Wrath.

Ira is my Wrath. That makes sense, because she’s giving me back all the anger I ever held against anyone. First in physical form (though I’ve never hit a person in my life) and then in verbal form. The verbal one hurts the most, as it exposes me as who I really am.

Ira notices the change in my eyes and smiles cruelly. She then steps away to give place to Vidar.

If Hubert was my Pride and Ira was my Wrath, Vidar must be my Envy. I have imagined the better pianists on competitions fail to play correctly, imagined their fingers tangle in themselves and break. It’s horrible, I know. No matter how much guilt I feel, I cannot un-think those thoughts. I wasn’t really myself then- I had slept too little the weeks before.

According to the rhyme, Envy must be my second largest sin after Lust. Why have I not met Lust yet? I set everything under winning the competition- my family, friends, even myself. It is, certainly, my greatest sin.

Vidar disrupts my thoughts as he reaches out for my face again. His thin fingers slip under the second eyelid and rip the eyeball out. I hear someone scream- or was it me? He bends my fingers into unnatural angles until he hears the crunch of broken bones. My throat goes hoarse from screaming. I found out that I still am able to see a bit with the second eye- just enough to see the angles my fingers are bend into. Every time I look at my hands again, the fingers have a new angle. I think I lose consciousness several times during the horrible process.

Finally, the crunching stops. I hear a distant voice say: “You’ve been given back everything. You are pure Lust now, sin otros pecados… Congratulations, you won.” Spanish? Yes, I take Spanish classes at school… Sin… Without. Otros…others. What is “pecados”, though? Sins, probably.

I … won?

***

“Who are you?” the girl cries out. She holds a crumbled sheet in her hand.

“Who are you?” I retort. She looks scared.

“D-Diana,” she says.

I smile at her. “I’m Luxan. Nice to meet you, Diana.” I, too, still keep my crumbled, bloody sheet of paper.

Except that my rhyme’s different now: Everything you’ve ever given will be given back. Everything you’ve never taken will be taken back. ''Lust you were, Lust you are. Purified as Sin,'' A Wish of Envy, Pride and Wrath- where Wish did always win.

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NOTE:

''“n”- The letter that is smeared in the poem. The letter “n” in Arabic stands for Nazareth, or the Christians. It is used as a symbol for utter hope or utter despair.''

''“Sin Hallucinations”- in the title, the word “Sin” can be used in its Spanish meaning. The title would then be “Without Hallucinations”, which contradicts with its original name. It can by read both ways.''

''Lust- Lust is defined as “an intense desire- for money, food, fame, power etc.”. The main character set the ambition of winning higher than he (who suffered from Pride) set himself.''

The names are inspired by Latin:

Lust: Luxuria

Wrath: Ira

Envy: Envidia Sloth: Acedia

Pride: (Greek) Hubris