The thing people dont understand about Gods is that it is the Human's beleif that keeps us going, even if we are longing for death's sweet oblivion. As long as the sacrifices keep coming, we will keep going. It's the Humans that have the power.
I laughed when they told me my punishment. So naive then. I didnt realise then how painful it would become, always looking, never touching. I belly laughed when the Gods bound me to this fate, that they would give me immortality and time alone with every child, make me of their number. Now I'm forced, begging and sobbing into the night and I pray, me who is a God and should pray to none, I pray that this year that the lights will be neglected this year, the sacrifices forgotten so I can end this miserable existence of unspent yearning.
It was only one child I took, one child who would have probably died in the bitter snows if i hadnt tossed her nude into the roaring lake when i had taken all the sweetness from her. All these years of standing by their beds, smelling sweet snores, hands aching to caress young peachy flesh to no avail. my hands pass through, straight through, leaving no stain on youth's perfect innocence. I leave them their small gift of wisdom or sarcasm or cynicism and take just a small part of their innocence and yearn to take it all. Then I sigh and move on to the next one who has been a good little girl this year.
Every year my festival grows, more and more sacrifices left, more and more penance for my one crime. I'll always regret that laugh, that stupid, naive Ho Ho Ho.