Cherry Pie

Cherry Pie

“What are you?”

“Angel to some, demon to others.” The words were nonchalant,

as she avoided eye contact with the

boy, choosing instead to stare blankly at the concrete wall.

“That’s not possible. Someone can’t be a demon and an angel at

the same time. They’re complete

opposites. There’s no way to be both.” The girl was silent for a

moment, before randomly commenting.

“God once created a human who, every time he saw someone cry,

would be riddled with unimaginable pain. So, to stop his pain, he would bring the people cheer.” The boy looked at the girl curiously. “Next, God created an android. An exact replica of the first human. He helped every crying human, not because he felt any pain, but because it was what he was programmed to do. To be exactly like the first.” The girl paused for a second to lift her gaze from the wall to the boy. “Now, God named one of them Kiran, meaning light and just pure goodness, and one of them Kearn, meaning darkness and injustice. Which one’s which?”

The boy smiled at her. “That’s easy. The first’s Kearn, and the

second is Kiran.”

The girl lifted an eyebrow. “Why would you think that? Usually

people think the other way around.”

“....The first human did acts of kindness purely because he

wanted to stop the pain. That makes the

acts made out of selfishness. Selfishness is an act of injustice

in itself. The second, however,

performed acts of kindness simply

because it was programmed to. No motive is better than a selfish motive.”

“You’re strange.”

“So? What’s the right answer?”

“There isn’t one.”

“...huh?”

“Humans see things based on their own sense of justice. So, that’s

how I’m an angel and a demon.”

“I still don’t agree.”

“...huh?” She turned around, her face contorted in confusion.

“You’re human.”

“Humans don’t see the same things I have.”

“So?” The boy tilted his head. “You can feel emotions, can’t you? That’s

what makes us all human.”

“Then, in that case, animals like elephants are human too, aren’t they?”

“I suppose so.”

The girl burst out laughing. The boy huffed at first, seemingly frustrated,

but gave up and joined in, laughing along with her.

Laughter rang and bounced off of the walls of a concrete, empty classroom.

There was nothing, no one there. Just a Baskerville, a thief, some words,

and a lot of laughter.

~

She was made; not to be loved, not to be hated. She was made, just to be there.

She had no name, she had no voice, and she had never seen anything outside

the Baskerville mansion. She didn’t know injustice, she didn’t know hatred, and

she most certainly did not know love.

But that will all come in due time.

She walked by another Baskerville in the marble halls. He was a thin, scrawny

little boy, who was carrying a box filled with bread to the cafeteria. He was hungry,

but did not take a crumb.

It wasn’t like he was taught not to steal. Just that no one gave him permission

to do so. Commands were all you needed as a Baskerville. Just follow orders. Don’t

do more. Don’t do less.

He made eye contact with her in the halls.

He said nothing.

She said nothing.

And they both walked on. If they do not know anything, they will not ask anything.

It was a simple slice of perfect logic. Like the calm, unmoving surface of a pond.

But, it only takes a single puff of air to send the pond into a myriad of ripples,

as the water overflows and spreads, ruining everything.