God Bless You: A Tell-tale Soul
When the old man and his wife were murdered, it was not my mind that I had lost — it was my soul!
Listen! Listen, your honour! Either you revoke my plea of insanity or I will not leave this stand! Let me tell you exactly how it happened, and you will see, you will hear that I, Ya’akuv Nephesh 1, am not mad, but perfectly sane! I had no motivation to murder the old man and his wife. In fact, having known them quite well, we had grown heartily fond of each other over the years. But this was not an act of madness!
This is what happened, God’s honest truth: Last week, while lying in bed at night, drifting into sleep, I felt my soul escape my body, flying away in the form of a raven. And the following morning, early in the wake of dawn, I woke up in the very same bed — black feathers scattered across my pillows — with a hell-like fever and a sore throat, and my soul returned in my lungs. With blood-dried hands, I reached for my Journans chronicles, as per usual. As I read the headline, my heart fluttered and pounded in my chest, as if my soul sought to escape once more.
The article detailed that my soul had wandered freely in the streets when I was asleep, and taken the life of the old man because he gave me an evil eye. The very same eye that a vulture gives a dying animal before it lurches for its flesh.
As I sat there, immersed in thought, I felt a sudden tickle in my nose. I tried to suppress the urge to sneeze, but it was no use. And as I did, I felt my soul stir, ill-fatedly slithering out of my nostrils once more.
I quickly contained my soul by covering my mouth and nose with my blood-dried hands. I ran out of my house and scoured the dark and deserted city in a frenzy, urging anyone with good eyes to bless me before my soul committed yet another unpardonable sin.
I came upon an old woman whose face twisted with fear when I clutched her by the shoulders with my right hand, shaking her violently. "Bless me!" I cried out, “Bless me , please!”. She kicked me in my thigh, and my hip was put out of joint as I wrestled her 2. Caught in the heat of the moment, as I shook her, I felt her neck snap under my hand, her breathless body falling to the concrete ground.
Lowering my hand and letting go of my face, I stood there, staring in horror at what I had done. At my soul’s blood-dried hand, a husband and wife had lost their lives. However, this time, my soul decided to remain within my body —seemingly crippled too—, cursing me out in the guttural caws of a raven, branding me a “Ba-ka!” 3 - a fool. Urging me to stay at the scene of the crime, my soul reminded me that no man can escape the vengeful hand of God. And so I waited, trembling with fear and guilt, as the police arrived to take me away.
You may think that I am mad, but I assure you that my mind is perfectly sound. When the old man and his wife were murdered, it was not my mind that I had lost — it was my soul! So as I stand here with a broken hip and a broken heart, do not pity me. Show no mercy. Revoke my plea of insanity, Your Honor, and do not look upon me with a good eye.
God bless you.
