12 days of Christmas - The Forsaken Gift

Written and designed by: Xavier Lee (24-O2)

Lying under the only forgiving eyes in the world, Judas found himself on a familiar bed of thorns. A damp piece of cardboard that he had found on the ground was the only support that had heeded his pleas for help. With all his possessions being whatever clothes left on his back, he could only pray for survival through the night. For the past five years, after losing his job and then home, Judas, who was a man of dreams, hope and passion, has been living on the streets, scraping by from the little change benevolent passer-bys bless upon him. 

This Christmas was especially cold. Each breath of his pierced the icy air through his chest and formed a frosty mist that barely dissipated. Passer-bys paced past him hurriedly in the winter snow without as much as offering a single glance. 

“Hurry! Hurry! I want to open my presents!” Dragging their parents along, children pushed and shoved their way through the crowds in a hurry back home. A tingle in his chest urged Judas into a familiar feeling of nostalgia for the times he had spent Christmas with his own parents. The excitement of guessing the presents just by its sound pumped throughout his body like an adrenaline rush. His parents had always told him that Christmas was the season of giving, yet on this Christmas day, everything had been taken from him.

As Judas watched the crowd pass him, he could not help but notice the distance between them. He had never been a sociable person, but he craved companionship. Throughout his life, he could not remember a single time when others had requested his company. For every initiation, there were two other rejections. The difference between him  and the crowd? He was alone. 

How did I…even get here? My dreams? My family? How is it that I became the trash of the world, having to live off the trash of the people.

A hand had reached out in front of him, offering an envelope. Judas jerked his head up to see a warm, sincere grin plastered on the face of a frail old woman, hunched from head to hip. As sudden as she had appeared, she had hobbled off into the passing wave, fading out of sight. With his frozen-stiff hands, he weakly peeled back the envelope’s flap, revealing an aged yellow note. Upon unfolding the note, a pungent moldy smell punched Judas in the face, inducing sleepiness. In the drowsy state, on top of his shivering hands, he could barely make out the words in the note with all his focus:

“My dearest Judas,

Many moons and stars have revolved since we have been apart. My heart still flutters at the mere thought of you. I miss your warm embrace. I miss that charismatic voice. I miss everything. I hope you still remember the poem you had written me eons ago:

Take my eyes 

so that you are my only view

Take my spirit

and take flight high above the clouds

Take me with you

to sleep

Take me whole 

until I belong to you

If this letter ever reaches your hands, I want you to know that I will be waiting. Waiting for the day that we become one once again…my deare-“

Judas’s eyelids fluttered as they struggled to stay open. His legs had started to lose energy, and his arms limped by his side. Soon enough, his body lay slumped against the cold concrete wall and right before the world turned off, he had once again caught a glimpse of that grin on the backdrop of overstretched skin. The blaring noise of the crowd had disappeared soon after his vision faded, the sharp gusty wind replaced by a cloak of warm air and an oppressive silence swallowed Judas up.  

As Judas slowly awoke, he found himself blindfolded and strapped tight to a chair. The tight bands choked his wrists and ankles of their circulation. He felt a hand gently caress his cheek and breaths inching closer to his ear until an airy alto could be heard right beside his ear: “My dearest Judas…” 

“WHO ARE YOU?!?! HOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME?!” In a frantic rage, Judas demanded the mysterious voice to identify herself.

The room echoed in silence. 

A soft sobbing ensued, growing increasingly louder. Amidst the sounds, he could faintly pick out his name being called amongst other cries of woe. 

A finger hooked under the blindfold, slipping it down his face and onto his neck. A familiar old lady stood in front of Judas. Now, smudged mascara lines ran down her cheeks, and with a snap of her fingers, a puff of smoke expanded out from the old lady’s chest, engulfing her whole. A long slender leg with black heels at the end stretched out of the smog and dragged out a body of alluring beauty. The once wrinkled face smoothed out, the hunch had corrected itself and her hair regained its life. 

“I have waited a long time for this day.”

Upon hearing her voice, there was no doubt that this was the same woman he heard when he was blindfolded. A handful of hooded people then filed into the room, encircling the chair holding Judas captive. Gesturing for someone, a hooded figure handed the woman a small wooden shiv, muttering the phrase: “Praise Andromeda” under his breath as he returned to his position.  

What does she even want with me? Let me go—please. I can’t…I  can’t take anymore of this. I’m nothing, no one. Why me?

“My dearest Judas, you promised me your eyes. I hope you will uphold your promise.” Without any warning Andromeda had yanked the shiv right under his eye socket, using a scooping motion to gouge out Judas’s eyes. He squirmed and screamed, yet, his efforts felt futile. He knew no one was coming to look for him, he knew his disappearance would go unnoticed and most importantly, he knew his existence had an insignificant impact on the world. 

“Why…why is this happening? It hurts. It hurts so badly. Please…make it stop. Tell me why you are doing this to me…” Through the unbearable pain Judas demanded another explanation.

“You promised me Judas, I hope you didn’t forget. You promised me your spirit too.” A smirk extended from Andromeda’s lips. 

Leaning close to Judas, their lips met in a soft kiss. Judas pulled away, and for a moment found his voice again. “I don’t belong to you. I won’t let you take me…why…why am I numb?” Andromeda could not take no for an answer. 

Judas wanted to hang on tight, but his body was weak and his will even weaker. As Andromeda held on to the kiss, Judas let down his guard. He could no longer escape from her viscous grip. His shoulders drooped down, forced to embrace the intimate moment. The longer the kiss went on, the more Judas lost control of himself. By the time he had realised, his lips were already hers. His arms, legs and toes followed soon after. The hooded people then carried Judas onto a bed where he was positioned next Andromeda, encircling the bed in a similar fashion. 

“Now we rest, my darling.” Andromeda rested her head on his chest. Judas felt his consciousness fading away. Little by little, piece by piece, his memories were fading away. He could no longer remember his childhood, his family, his life.

Huh…what was I fighting so hard for…? There is nothing for me out there anyway…

As Judas succumbed to the manipulation, he had heard one final sentence from Andromeda:

“No one wants you but you are my Judas now. You belong to me. You can’t replace the original, but at least I have you” Andromeda pierced a final stake through his heart, holding his soul in place. 

On this Christmas day, the last vestige of Judas faded into his final breath, a slow and shallow escape into the balmy air. His soul–if it had ever been his–was consumed by Andromeda’s touch. As though sand falling through trembling fingers, he felt his memories, his thoughts, his very essence slipping away. His crushing solitude crumbled in the warmth of their embrace. It wasn’t love, it was something far darker than that. Yet, Judas didn't fight back.

And in that surrender, for the first time in years, he was no longer alone.