The voice did a weird half chuckle, half sigh sound, which was strange for something without lungs and for a being who could only whisper. "Silly Arlen, you know who I am! I've been with you since you were a baby, though I've never been quite this talkative until now. Voices are weird, you know? All the thoughts I've ever thought can now be out loud and it's all new and great! Keeping you out of trouble has been tough, and with no one to talk to, you don't know how difficult that can be..." 'It' kept on rambling, half to itself, but I jumped at what it had just revealed. "Wait! What do you mean, 'keeping me out of trouble?' Are you - are you my Conscience?" "Why of course. Who else would I be?" it replied matter-of-factly.
"And as for who I am," it continued, soft as air, "I don't really have a name, I think. As for why I'm here, well it's for Father, of course. But you haven't been listening to His word, have you? Well, I may have a voice now, but I still have to do my job." There was a long pause in which 'it' was quiet for once, and then a huff of annoyance.
"Well darn," it breathed, "did you feel anything? A tug, a pull, an overwhelming urge to punch yourself in the throat, perhaps?"
"I don't think so," I replied quizzically, "Should I?"
"Yes! That's what always happens," it huffed. "It seems I can't control you anymore. Well, that's disappointing... What do I do now?" I may not have been overjoyed at the presence of the little voice, but hearing it all dejected and forlorn as it was, I couldn't
The voice finally managed a hushed reply that wasn't very helpful. "No, I don't think so, just a mind and a voice." It was still whispering, and hearing it over the steady hum of voices outside the Store was becoming difficult.
"Can you speak up a little? You don't have to whisper, we're alone here."
"I'm not whispering, this is just my voice. It's usually louder I think, but you going all slasher on me with that knife kind of cut our connection and now I just feel...weak? No, maybe just small. I don't know. Either way, this is as loud as I get, and that's why I can't correct you anymore. Neat, huh?"
"Not really the word I would use in this situation..." I moaned. All of this new information was giving me a headache, and I was getting tired of the voice's incessant cheerfulness. There was one thing that was bothering me, though. "So if you don't have a body, do you have a name? I can't exactly call you 'it' all of the time, so what do I call you? That's assuming, of course, that I actually decide to keep you."
"You're funny. I guess you can call me Conscience, since that's what I am. Whatever
"And as for who I am," it continued, soft as air, "I don't really have a name, I think. As for why I'm here, well it's for Father, of course. But you haven't been listening to His word, have you? Well, I may have a voice now, but I still have to do my job." There was a long pause in which 'it' was quiet for once, and then a huff of annoyance.
"Well darn," it breathed, "did you feel anything? A tug, a pull, an overwhelming urge to punch yourself in the throat, perhaps?"
"I don't think so," I replied quizzically, "Should I?"
"Yes! That's what always happens," it huffed. "It seems I can't control you anymore. Well, that's disappointing... What do I do now?" I may not have been overjoyed at the presence of the little voice, but hearing it all dejected and forlorn as it was, I couldn't
The voice finally managed a hushed reply that wasn't very helpful. "No, I don't think so, just a mind and a voice." It was still whispering, and hearing it over the steady hum of voices outside the Store was becoming difficult.
"Can you speak up a little? You don't have to whisper, we're alone here."
"I'm not whispering, this is just my voice. It's usually louder I think, but you going all slasher on me with that knife kind of cut our connection and now I just feel...weak? No, maybe just small. I don't know. Either way, this is as loud as I get, and that's why I can't correct you anymore. Neat, huh?"
"Not really the word I would use in this situation..." I moaned. All of this new information was giving me a headache, and I was getting tired of the voice's incessant cheerfulness. There was one thing that was bothering me, though. "So if you don't have a body, do you have a name? I can't exactly call you 'it' all of the time, so what do I call you? That's assuming, of course, that I actually decide to keep you."
"You're funny. I guess you can call me Conscience, since that's what I am. Whatever
