Sinners (freewrite Julia #8)

'Well, most of my life has been running about like a monkey at a wedding,' he laughs.
'Like a what?' Julia's been like this for about twenty minutes, always off, always mishearing some word or other.
'Like a monkey at a wedding,' he gestures awkwardly, to carry it better, 'You know, monkeys' wedding, chaos, disorder.'
'Loss...' she chimes in, but she can't bring herself to be sad about it anymore. She's finally found someone who she can talk to, someone who might understand.
Steven shrugs, as if it doesn't matter to him. 'I try not to think about it, you know? Not too much anyway, because what's that going to do? It's not going to stop me, so it'd only make me feel bad.'
'But how can you not?' Julia almost shouts at him and then feels bad.
'Well, it's not like I chose this, is it? Neither of us did. We never meant to hurt anyone,we're victims too. Besides, everyone's got to die from something, might as well be love.'

'But that's monstrous –'
'Isn't it?' he smiles, 'See, I knew there was something about it. I knew you weren't like the others. So pure, so quiet, so magnificently terrified. Like a little deer. When the idea first went through my head, I thought I must've gone mad. I always thought there was no one like me, you know? That what I did was...special. Different. And then, I met you. So..strange you. And you reminded me of me, of who I might've been if...well, if I'd grown up very different.'
The words come out slowly, almost inexistent. 'You mean there've been others?'
And with every passing moment, Julia feels that this man must be imaginary, he must be joking. He is so unlike anything she's ever imagined, so strange, so...different from what she's believed in all her life.
So impossible.

'Of course there have been others,' he laughs, almost as if he wasn't talking about murder. 'You can't tell me you've never...loved before.'
'But it's a sin! A sacrilege!' and Julia knows she's screaming at herself, rather than him, but she can't stop herself.
'Really? And what would you rather do? Hide away in your mother's house till the end of your life? Wouldn't that be stupid?'
Then, seeing her shy away, 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. But what's the sense? It's the price you pay, you burn with love and sometimes, love burns you.'
'Yes, but not literally...'
'Well, apparently yes. Sometimes, at least. And why should that be bad, to die loving someone? I've always thought it was quite beautiful, you know, poetic. If only Lord Byron had known you...'
He takes her face in his hands, but Julia shakes her head. Somewhere, her mother spins in her grave. Her mother, who used to tell her she was cursed and lock her in her room. Her mother, who loved her, despite her flaws, despite her...evil. Her mother who only tried to protect her soul, give her a place in Heaven, while she only deserved to crawl among the wicked.
And here was this silly man trying to overthrow all that, all her mother had stood for. Her mother had tried to protect her, always, and here came this sinful man, saying there was no danger, all the while?
Is he laughing at me? Julia wonders. Worse, is he laughing at Mother?

And she tries to convey all of this through her eyes and fails, miserably, because he doesn't seem to understand. He doesn't even seem to know about the Devil, about sin.
'Honey,' he whispers, standing up and pulling her to him, 'I am sin. We both are, I'm afraid.'
And yet, there are no ashes where there were before, the house is empty, except for them. No ghosts, no dead lovers. No nothing.
And all she can see is her mother, she keeps opposing this, and Julia doesn't know how to tell her she wants this. Please, Mamma, but it's all in vain. The old woman doesn't hear. She just rages on about the Devil, and the damned. About Julia, about Steven.
Steven, who's like her. So painfully like her, cursed and yet, so unaware of it. So happy in his sin, so carefree, and Julia realizes, through tears, that she wants to be like that. And that with him, there's nothing to be afraid of. He can't burn like the others. He'll never turn to ashes. Not because of her.

Julia looks at her mother, among the saints, and at Steven, among the sinners, and makes her choice.