The “spirit of perverseness” means a feeling or sensation that takes over your mind. It is something that you know is not right but you do it anyway. Even though you may feel guilt and remorse for your actions you still continue to do what has been taught to you of being acceptable. In Christianity it is said that the “spirit of God” takes over you so the “spirit of perverseness” would be like the spirit of the devil, things which are bad.
I feel as humans, it is only natural to feel the “spirit of perverseness.” How we are raised, the morals instilled in us, our religious beliefs, and our fear of punishment determines the actions that proceed after that spirit enters our souls.
That feeling sprouts up into my head many times but I live out my actions in my head, vent to anyone who will listen, sleep on it, and hopefully be better the next day.
One time though, those thoughts became actions before I could stop them. I was a teenage mother living on my own. Desperately wanting someone to love me, I carelessly became intoxicated with this guy who promised me love, marriage, and a family. I quickly put my trust into him and trusted him with my son.
On one occasion I had to be at work for a long training class. His generosity shined and he offered to stay at my home with my young son while I went. I didn’t see this as a problem because they got along so well when we were all together. When I left my son was crying, which he always did when I left him, but usually calmed down not long after my departure.
After a few hours went by I returned home to a child that eagerly ran to my arms and jumped into them. I picked him up and showered him with affection only for him to grimace out in pain. When I questioned his grief he informed me his bottom hurt. Surprisingly, I was not alarmed at first because this was a normal occurrence. He was still in diapers and they easily irritated his bottom, especially if he played too much and got sweaty. So, I told him we would put powders on them and make it all better. The guy was normal and nothing seemed surprising to me.
We went up stairs to his bedroom and I laid out a towel on the bed. When I put him on the bed and undressed his bottom half, I noticed strange marks on the inside of his leg. When I turned him over to investigate further my heart fell to the floor. Devastation took over my body. There on his bottom and lower back were 5 handprints that were welted into his skin. When I touched them he cried out in pain. Furry and fire ran through my veins. I tried to calmly put his diaper on, turned on his favorite movie, told him I would bring his favorite snack up to make him feel better and we would then lay in the bed and watch his movie together. I shut the door behind me.
As the door latched and I started down the steps my body trembled and tears starting streaming down my face. Murder was all that was on my mind and the rage was over powering my logic. I began to run down the steps, into the kitchen, and grabbed a knife. Behind me I heard footsteps approaching me so I quickly turned and stabbed at his surprised being. He yelled at me and asked me what I was doing and what was wrong. My tears and anger had taken my voice and I continued to try to accomplish the death that I wanted to bestow upon him. He darted and ducked and tried to calm me down. He knew the reasoning for my anger and then tried to justify his actions.
I could not hear his words neither did I care to hear them. Finally, a blow made contact as he raised his hand in my direction. The knife penetrated his hand. Blood began to pour and puddle in my floor. It was as if someone had splashed cold water into my face to wake me up. Reality began to sink in and I begin to hear all the rights and wrongs as they started rushing into my mind. I released the blade and froze with a blank stare upon my face. He said a mere “sorry” and “I will love you forever” and spoke no more as he walked out the door, leaving a trail of the damage that I had caused.
My body unfroze and reality came in small amounts back to my conscious mind. I immediately cleaned up the mess, cleaned myself up, wiped away my wearied face and returned to my son, who seemed unaware of the turmoil that occurred below.
We lay in the bed until the morning sun shined upon our faces waking us from what I hoped was only a bad dream. I knew that the bad dream would never go away even when I was awake.
The cops never found him and the investigation have long been closed. I never heard from or about him again. Nor do I want to know. The thoughts that I wish upon him even after these long eleven years are none I would like to repeat. I feel the pain as if it was yesterday when I imagine what I let happen to my little baby who is not so little anymore and knows nothing of the incident.
I feel that my feelings were justified and some part of me after all of these years wishes I would have done more. For the feeling I carry around with me will not fade away. My logical mind is glad that it didn’t go further than it went for the intentions that I did have would have caused me more years of trouble and turmoil if I would of accomplished them.
I think the “spirit of perverseness” does take over your body and the evil that already exist in our human nature is brought to the surface. Our actions are sometimes uncontrollable and the true judgment of what is good and bad only comes from the society’s eyes that put the situation into their own hands to justify the behavior or condone it. Some would say my actions were called for and worse should have been done. Some would blame it all on me.
The evilness in the “spirit of perverseness” can only be judged by the individual that acts on the power. For they are the ones that live with the feelings that come along with it that never fade away.
AllAn....
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