………….

I remember in the beginning, the anticipation, the preparation. A month of celebration, where the world revolved around the day my existence came to be.

Now it’s just become trite, mundane, a chore. I feel like a caged animal, one that is petted often.

If it wasn’t for the water ritual, basking in the blood of those I’d hand picked, I’d probably have…well there really is no point in even imagining an alternate life. For if I was to skip the ceremony, it would be my last. Just like that I’d perish. Yes, yes, I know, they say we can’t die, but you mustn’t buy into that ridiculous stereotypical myth.

You would think after 350 years the pomp and ceremony might have lost its appeal. But I can assure you each year its fervour grows. I’ve become a celebrity. I pine for the centuries past where I was so much more than a mere idol…