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I am the keeper of broken souls. I want to fall, but I continue to collect the souls. As they need me more then I needed something to numb the pain of watching.
I am the keeper of broken souls. There are so many, I no longer have room. I cry because my Goddess created these souls to remain whole, yet man continues to break them. They break them with there wars, their hate, their coldness, and I cry. I look out at the land and wonder if it would not be better to start over, but that is not my choice. So I continue to collect my souls. All broken, I can’t save them once they come to me. It weighs on my soul. It breaks my soul. I want to fall, but I continue to collect the souls. As they need me more then I needed something to numb the pain of watching. This is the story of once such soul.
She was young, and pretty, she had her whole life ahead of her. I cried when I saw him coming. A demon in disguise. She fell for him so hard. She loved him no matter what he did to her. He used her. He abused her. He made her feel like nothing.
I had to sit back and watch, but I tried to do what I could in my power. I sent a friend. She tired to help this lost soul from becoming a broke soul. Tried to get her a way from the demon that was killing her soul.
For a time I thought the soul I sent back would work, but I did not. She, this pretty soul, went into a depression so deep. That with or without him she felt life was not worth it. No matter the good I sent her way, no matter the happiness I thought she would find, she never did, and she never let the demon go. The demon was going to win.
I watched her as she cut herself to deal with the emotional pain. I watched as she starved herself to please him. I watched as she lost the one soul that might have saved her, her unborn child. I watched as the Goddess took her friend away, the only person who stood by her side. I watched as the Goddess took the friends soul to paradise. Though I was happy the friend got her just award, it saddened me that it would throw the pretty damaged soul further into the darkness of the demon that held on tight to her heart.
I made one last attempt, I promised the Goddess my soul to send to her, if she gave her one more chance at having a baby. The Goddess agreed that if she carried the child to term, it would be my soul born to her. I was excited, I would not only have to stop watching the pain of life, but I had the chance to save a broken soul. I watched as the demon continued to hold her. I watched and waited. Waited for this pretty soul to become my future mother, I waited and waited. But it would never come.
One cold fateful day, I went to check on her, and the demon had won. He had drove her to kill herself. He left her. He just walked out telling her he didn’t have a use for her any longer. That she was nothing but a waste of space. Nothing at all. I cried at the lies coming from his demon mouth. I cried all through the night as I watched her self destruct. As I watched her soul break. As she took the razor blade and slit her wrists. As she bleed out. As I left my place to pick up the pieces of her soul and bring them home with me. Forever in limbo, forever broken. If only there had been more love then hate in her life. She would never have become a broken soul.
So I end my story with these words… love don’t hate. Love can change a person’s life. It can save a soul.
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