physics, and I'd failed at it. That my deformity happened because of something I did, or something I couldn't do. To hear that God cut me in half and fucked me up? That she made a mess of healing me? It's a lot to take in, and it makes me want to blame her."
"Then blame her," I told him. "She said it herself; she can't hurt you."
He shook his head. "I'm not sure she deserves that. You know how humans always say that we were created in God's image? What if that image just means that we’re fallible? That we’re biased, judgmental, and emotional creatures who simply aren't perfect?"
"Does it make a difference?" I asked.
Then he did something unexpected. He smiled at me. "I think so. If we're talking about good and evil, or trying to talk about rules that should be broken, then yeah. It kinda does. Because who's to say that those rules aren't screwed up too? She even said that all of our beliefs about good and evil came from stories that were passed down so many times that the words and concepts have changed and evolved. That her control group for good ended up being bad, and the one she made to be bad turned out to be good. Sia, she's saying we can change."
And that may have been the deepest thing to come out of all of this. In some ways, it could be boiled down to the simplest concept ever. Were we selfish or selfless? The more I thought about it, the more I realized that that was all good and evil really came down to. So, if being selfless was what ended up being defined as evil, then I was going to be the best Devil ever.
"So where do we go from here?" I asked him, just as the door to his room opened.
Ron lifted himself partially off the bed to see who it was. "Come on in, Bel," he said.
"Are you okay?" Bel asked.
Ron smiled down at me. "I'm going to be. I just don't like the idea of having been discarded. I mean, that probably sounds stupid -"
"Not to me," Bel assured him. "She let me get eaten over and over. She let all of us kill ourselves as we tried to figure out how to walk, fly, and survive. She said that we weren't any fun until we had to struggle. But fun for who? Her?"
"Okay," I said, sitting up so I could see them both. "What if we’re all just pissed off and judging her harshly because of what we assumed she was supposed to be?" I held up a finger, asking them to let me finish. "Because I know what I thought about my parents before I met them. Kacira was supposed to have been some drugged-out junkie, and I hated her for it. I always assumed my dad was some loser who ran off, and then I found out that he's been helping Luke since I was born. But I judged them as failures because I had this idea in my head that parents were supposed to be these perfect, loving things who would protect me and keep me safe. I mean, they did that, but it wasn't exactly in the way I had imagined. So I was pissed at them for it, and they didn't really deserve it."
"I'm pissed at them for it," Bel said. "Your parents and my creator."
"No," Ron said, "she has a point. They did the best they could under the circumstances. It wasn't perfect, and it sucked for us, but what should they have done instead?"
"Not hurt the people I care about," Bel said.
"How?" Ron asked.
"I don't know," Bel snarled. "I just know it should've been better."
"That." I pointed at him. "That's exactly what I mean. We’re hurt, and we’re angry, so we try to direct it at someone. Well, this is one of those rules I think we need to break. Yes, things got fucked up. Yes, it sucks for all of us. But would you be you - either of you - if none of this had happened? I know I wouldn't be the person I am now if I hadn't gone through all that shit I did as a kid."
"So you think we should forgive her?" Ron asked.
That was the part I hadn't really considered yet. "Maybe we should just give her a second chance," I suggested. "See if all of this was an accident, or if maybe God