To Infinity and Beyond Realities by Krisla Gail J. Batac
reality is a god of its own and history has shown the fall of those who challenge celestial beings. a human cannot worship two gods but betraying the god i was born to worship to bow down to yours is thrilling— my reality is nothing without your existence in it. so i climbed onto the wings of the raven, who promised to take me from my god to yours. the eyes she possessed were as black as the spaces between the stars and her coat, ink-stained from soaring through. her charge is trust— and many people have paid the price. without a thought, i bought her bargain; i believed her, too. i wonder why celestial beings have a thing with faith. she asked me to close my eyes, count, and never stop but i am not from the heavens; i’m but a feeble human. if there are numbers beyond the limits of my fingers, who am i to not fall asleep counting? obviously, faith is not my forté. did i not spit on the face of my god to kiss the feet of yours? though i may have forgotten— my god loved his pride as much as i loved you. his gravity was the chains that kept me from leaving, how naïve of me to think my conviction could break them. the weight of the numbers grew heavy on my palms; my eyes itched to flutter open; my mind has lost count. as one to one hundred slipped from my fingers, so did my faith. my price wasn’t enough; so she, who shifts realities, refused to fly me to yours and here i am again—broke and cursing divinity. was fate scared of what we could’ve been? did our gods want us all to themselves? had you known me, would you have done the same? would you put your faith on a raven’s promise? tonight, i’ll challenge my god and attempt to conquer yours once more if she forgives me, i’ll climb her wings, close my eyes, and count again.
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