SOMETHING. HOLY.

volume 3 of 3

Something holy in cathedral bеlls
The red-tile roofs
Thе seagull's cry
Something holy in the writer's page
The stranger's smile
A friend's embrace

DUH. Of course happiness exists, yah dumb cunt.

Sure, the world sucks. Sure, he didn't really have much of a life. But at least he had a reason to have a good death. Because it really does matter how one dies. Like there's a big difference in one dying lying down or standing up as long as one can. And then there's the why you die -- that also counts, Oz knows it now. And the why he died is all that matters to him. It matters so much more than a first kiss or even a first date ever could.

His death is an acknowledgment that there are things in this world that matter. Matter more perhaps than life itself, because life would be miserable and worthless without them. And those things are the people around him.

There's so many monsters. But there are far more humans.

It's funny. In the pain of living, all that had been made him clear to him was the power the monsters had over the world. And God, do they ever! But look at what good the little humans did despite it all.

Celeste, in her sweetness, reaching out to give a little boy comfort. Even though they're supposed to kill each other! And, Celeste...? At least, the Celeste in his dream -- Celeste, you're right. It's not like being crushed at all, it is so much like floating! And Esther, too. Esther who was kind and lovely, who wanted to protect everyone, even though she was so numb inside. There's a strength in that that tells us something about ourselves. And Peter! Oz knows he'd been such an asshole to Peter, that first time they met. But he was a lot like Celeste. Just wanted to help this stupid kid out. Orville with his fun weirdness, bringing a joy to this fucking godawful place that shouldn't have been possible, but Orville was just -- so -- good! that it didn't matter where he was. Just like Snuff, just like Snuff...! And Bowie, who, even though they weren't allies, still found it in his heart to try to warn Oz of what was coming -- the compassion there. The compassion in all of them, sheer and raw.

They were brought in to be groomed into monsters, and all that happened was that they allowed these children's' humanity to shine through. And the real monsters -- the ones that stole them all away -- though they don't know it yet -- are choking on cock right now because of it.

There's a power in that. To love a little boy like that, even for a short time. And it matters so much more than what the monsters can do. Sure, there will always be dying and suffering -- at least, Oz thinks so, but maybe not for much longer anymore -- but there will always be kindness, too. Mercy. Mercy goes where the humans go.

You know, beyond the great blue sky, there's this huge place made of darkness. But in that expanse of deep shadow are these titanic glowing orbs. And we see them, though they are so far away, so far away their light is actually old (did you know that?). And one of those globes rises over our horizon every morning, and turns the great night into a riot of color that settles into the calm still blue, for light has returned to the world and things can go on as usual. And, did you know, that's a rare thing. Planets like ours aren't supposed to exist, yet ours does.

There's so much beauty in our good, good Earth we just don't allow ourselves to see. But it's there, and it waits for us.

It's in the smiles of precious people as they pass you by. It's in their laughter as they take your hand and dance with you in circles. It's in the sound of music and it's in the beauty of a person's body when they stand in front of you and look at you.

He was born to take hold of people's hands. But we all are.

He almost lost that purpose. That day he killed Canvas. But he thinks -- because Canvas did die -- that he got it back, somehow. The recognition that he needed to remain human, despite pain. Because monsters are born from pain.

He could have wound up to die an Ellis. And he's glad that, at least, he didn't have to die like that. That's not a good death. At least he got to die trying to teach someone how to be human.

God, poor Canvas, what made him proud to be a monster! What pain did he go through! Oz should have been so much nicer, should have reached out and took Canvas' hand!

And the boy who killed Esther...the girl who killed Celeste...the girl who killed Peter...Could they have been made human, too? As Oz had been remade human?

But enough speculation. They made their choices, as Oz had made his choice. There is only the here and now.

There are people out there, and they are watching him.

They all surround him. He's returned to them, even though he can't touch them.

He remembers when Mya and Snuff "kidnapped" him that one day. To show him the warehouse and their Loft for the first time. How the light swept into that beautiful place, like sunlight through the cathedral windows. How the dust motes flickered like ghost-stars in the light. How beautiful the expanse of wall was. The endless possibilities. The beauty of possibility, encompassed only in the power of loving -- not life -- but just being alive for a while.

The sun is so, so bright now that the rain's going away. He smiles into its light.