You know me. I write fictional horror stories, but I never thought the horror would catch up to me. To my real life. And now I don’t know what to do. I mean, I know, but it’s not enough.
You see, I’ve been away from reddit for three weeks because it was my honeymoon. Pedro and I have been together for 7 amazing years, and everything in this trip went as perfect as we could be – the perfect cherry on top of our love story. We have been to so many cities and countries and high-speed trains with beautiful bucolic landscapes.
We decided to end our trip in the most romantic city in the world – Paris.
In mid-April, the sunset in Paris happens around 9 PM. Our plan that day was to take the elevator on Montparnasse tower, a famous tall building with a 360º view in their 57th floor rooftop, and watch the Eiffel Tower light up in the perfect dusk light.
As we were buying the tickets to do so, one of my friends back in Brazil messaged me.
“Please check yourself as safe in the Notre dame fire. We are worried”.
I didn’t know about the fire because I had been in the Trocadero Gardens and in the subway when it started. I googled what was going on, but there was still little information about it. I was in Notre Dame just the day before, and was baffled with its glory, its sturdiness, and how you could feel centuries of History and stories coursing through its walls.
We ascended to the rooftop and were shocked and hypnotized to see one of the world most famous monuments burning. I am not catholic, but Notre dame is so much more than a single religion.
The golden hour was beautiful over Paris; we had had a sunny day, so the sky was painted beautiful shades of orange and pink in the opposite direction, but there were around 120 people in that rooftop, and no one could look away as the fire turned to a major blaze. It was too windy, it probably made the flames spread quickly.
Everyone watched for good 20 minutes in awe. No one dared to speak about anything else. The fire was larger than our dream vacations, larger than our lives even.
As I turned my gaze to my husband for a moment, I noticed everything but me had stopped. Everyone else was still, like they suddenly had been replaced with their Grévin statue.
The cars down in the streets and even the fire froze. It was like the world was a picture. Everything was so quiet. So quiet. So quiet.
Then the air itself was cut like a cake. A perfect rectangle opened up in the very air, and she came out of it.
As I stared at her face, her features changed. I couldn’t grasp if she was young or old, black or white, had big or narrow eyes, or how her nose was like. She had many faces in one. She was everything and nothing.
“Enjoying your honeymoon?” she asked with a smile, like we were old acquaintances.
“Yes… yes, I am”.
“Good. Deep down you know what – no, who – I am, right?”
“I’m not sure” I said, nervously biting my lower lip. Her smile grew larger; she showed no animosity but also no kindness. She was mildly having fun over my confusion.
“You have another job to pay the bills, but you’re a writer. You met your excellent husband when you were 17 and thought your young heart was too broken to let yourself love him, but did it anyway. Your family is a mess, and now that your nana is gone, you see little to no reason to keep in contact” she took a few steps closer. “You always wanted to meet God and ask him a question or two. When you were 4, you even asked your mother how one could run in the elections to be the next God, because this one wasn’t doing things right”.
She smiled again, and I could only stare, wide-eyed. Everything she said was true.
She was god. She was God. I knew deep down in my very being that it wasn’t a bluff or a lie. Everything else was still paralyzed.
“Is god a woman?” was the silly question that came out of my lips. I had the creator of everything in front of me and the first thing in my mind was their gender.
Her smile grew infinitely condescending.
“No, but not a man either. I take the form I see more fitting for the one seeing me, and I know how you would be disappointed if God was actually an old man”.
“Why this is happening right now?”
“Oh, a more important question, although I understand your curiosity. You see, I’m not goodness or justice or compassion. I’m inquisitiveness. I’m a creator, a tester, an inventor. I don’t really care about your little lives and your little rituals to me. I just want to see where you’re going as a whole. And you’re not going anywhere good. I’m tired of waiting. I’m bored of you. You all are so predictable”, she made a long pause then stared into the horizon.
“You get smarter for a while then get dumber. The dumb ones always win. The dumb ones killed sophisticated civilizations, killed science over and over again, killed your knowledge. You killed the Mayans, the Library of Alexandria, hell, you’re even killing the basic knowledge that the Earth is a sphere”.
I shot God a look that I expected to be politely intrigued. This hasn’t answered my question.
“I know I still didn’t answer your question, ok? I’ll get there. Right now I’m split in hundreds of little consciences, talking to hundreds of other people in the specific way every one of you will understand”, she sighed.
“I’m tired. I didn’t create you to be all Mother Teresas. You have the right to put yourself first. You shouldn’t be bad to each other because you know better, not because I’m watching. I’m so disappointed in your infinite dumbness. I know you think you are smarter than average, and you are, because the average is puny, but you’re still way dumber than you should be by now. I’m tired of Humanity not learning from their mistakes. I’m destroying Notre Dame and I will destroy everything beautiful you know. I’m not letting you rise from the ashes again this time. Why bother? You’ll develop your intelligence a little then become dumber than a fucking dolphin”.
“Why don’t you simply get rid of the dumb ones?” I asked, almost begging.
“Because I have done it before and the ones that weren’t so dumb suddenly became dumb. You think you considered this solution before God did?” she gave a loud guffaw. “Dumbness is your disease, and it’s incurable. To eradicate dumbness is to eradicate humanity itself, and that’s what I’m doing”.
“You’re destroying everything?”
“Yeah, but slowly. I hope at least your confused reactions will be interesting. I’ll bring the chaos from now on, and it’s not even punishment. I’m simply tired of you. You only surprise me with your stupidity, because I didn’t think something I created could be so stupid. The cycles of actually accomplishing something only to have it completely destroyed are endless and tiring. You know what? There are other gods and other universes created by them. But me? I only have you. I only have my disappointing daughter Earth, and you only have me. We are all alone in this universe.”
“Why don’t you help us then?” I asked.
“I sometimes intervene. Why? Because I think something interesting will happen. But it never does. I don’t care if John Smith wins the lottery or if Sota Yamamura’s girlfriend is a pillow with a cartoon girl’s face. I don’t care. That’s the cards that were randomly dealt for them. Just do something that will intrigue me. There’s no destiny or purpose, just randomness and your own decisions, and you still decide time and time again to frustrate me”.
I was tearing up by then. I always believe in destiny, but there was only blind luck. The creator of everything assured me so.
“I know exactly what you’ll ask. Why don’t I help Africa? Why don’t I end the hunger, why don’t I create fair conditions to everyone? Well, I tried doing that before and it was even worse. The equality lasted only a second before you started killing yourselves to have more, to subjugate the other”.
I sighed deeply because I knew she was right. I knew our nature was too greedy for it to work.
“The Earth is my laboratory in many different ways. I wanted to know what happened if I put some of you under extreme conditions. Would you improve? Would you amaze me? The answer is still no” she sounded more pained than I ever heard someone be. “I’m desperate for something interesting. You don’t know how hard it is to be immortal and to only be able to create imperfect, useless beings”.
“Well, I don’t know indeed. Why are you telling me this?”
“Don’t think you’re special, young lady. You’re not. I’m telling pretty much the same to everyone else in this rooftop, watching one of the symbols of your civilization burn. No one will remember this. But you know what? You will. This could be fun. You write fiction. You love scaring people. What could be worse than knowing the true nature of your creator and that they – she, if you prefer – will slowly and surely get rid of you? That eating the tasteless bread a man in long skirts gave you every Sunday will not save you?” she laughed, almost bitterly.
“I want you to tell people about our conversation and try to get them to believe you. You know they won’t, but you have to try anyway. And you will, because you couldn’t bear alone the knowledge that your God is simply a chaotic being playing doll with you all. Now go. Go and enjoy the rest of your honeymoon, the rest of calmness remaining in this world. Then spread my message and get called a heretic by those that adore me without knowing better. Maybe you’ll give your immortal Mommy a good laugh – I know how much I need one”.