When asked what would she write to a god or a fallen angel, Christina Z. (the writer behind the comics WItchblade) wrote "18 Minutes", a heartful novel based around the sinking of the Lutisania, on may 15th 1915....
Letter from Christina Z (Magnesium Burn, USA)
"18 Minutes"
I’m not going down on my knees to talk to any of you. To beg you or anything else most mere mortals do when they’re desperate and need wishes fulfilled.
I just want you all to know about the afternoon of May 7th, 1915. The sinking of the Lusitania.
Our passenger ocean liner was torpedoed by an enemy of our ally. Children, fathers, engineers, nurses, all trying to get home or help those in need. Swallowed down into the cold, demanding abyss.
Where were any of you?
You could hear our cries for help, gasping on razor sharp waves, cresting over our heads, and drowning us. Confusion and realization. Devastation and suffocation. If you were sitting in your temples or molten caves, did you just watch all this happen?
It seems like we're just tiny details to you.
One of those details, in fact, was my lover being aboard that ship. And she had already been through quite a lot with the rape of her homeland.
While everyone was awaiting your judgement, horrifying mutilations overtook my lover’s land. Children bayoneted, women stripped, torn by hand, limb from limb. Libraries burnt to the ground, crops set ablaze and the elderly staked to doors with knives. And you weren’t even aware of The Rape of Belgium.
Or were you?
My lover and I were aware of the risk as we boarded that ship. When the u-boat sent their torpedoes, shredding the ship’s body, it sank in only 18 minutes. Engulfed by the ocean, under a bright daytime sky. There’s a different type of terror when you can see clearly, the mangled remains of a passenger ship upended and hauling the us beneath it.
In terms of praying during war, I don’t quite understand how it’s received by you because if we ask to live and our enemy begs for our death, then you’re not helping either of us. Are you?
This war might’ve more quickly ended if it weren’t for the vast amount of praying to gods for a definitive answer.
In your systems, we need only have hope and forgive our traitors. In others, we welcome death after a battle to ascend and continue fighting. With the more passive ideologies, we become a part of a collective light being - but that really doesn't help the victims of the present, does it?
In the midst of this mess made of steel, poison gas and twisted human flesh, so many did pray to you, only to receive....silence.
My beloved, only by luck and not divine intervention, survived. Although she fought with the might of her heart and soul - the soul some of you profess to protect, she would sustain terrible injuries and the sickening scenes would haunt her forever.
While many were murdered that afternoon, it wouldn’t be in vain. That particular atrocity would mark the decision for the United States to enter the Great War. No more trench madness, no more broken horses, months living in mud, bones and blood.
If we were never innocent and still bound to make mistakes, at what time are any of you even helpful?
My Love and I were finally reunited yet knew that this wasn’t The War to End All Wars - and that only future combat would arise.
But for a while, we rested in tranquil embraces with the pride of knowing we had finally, in some way, won.
Without the help...from ANY of you.
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