Ignorance, your new best friend

         Over and over, the boy was teased. He knew he was different; he defied the pressure both sides – Good and Evil - assailed him with.
         “One day…” they all jeered menacingly, for once all united, “One day, you’ll have to choose, and your defiance will mean nothing.
         “I don’t want to choose; I want both.” This swiftly earned him a punch to the jaw and a kick to the shins.
         He fast discovered that voicing his “on the fence” opinion was getting him nowhere except beat up, so he one day just stopped voicing it and began silently perfecting it.
         As they all grew up, and the boy stood aloof from the others, silent and observing, he was unaware of being the one observed by one girl who had unofficially chosen Evil and was waiting to be sworn in when she turned eighteen, just as they all were.
         All except the boy. He dreaded the day he came of age and the ceremony would be before him, forcing him to choose, but he also eagerly anticipated it. It was then, instead of choosing, that he would voice his opinion once again, and they would listen…
         Everyone – on both sides – remembers what happened the day of that ceremony; they’ve just chosen to ignore it.
         His name had been called. He walked to the dais, whispers and jeers from both sides of the room following him as he went – they all thought he was crazy. As he stood before them, only the girl remained silent, watching to see which side he would turn to when he reached the front of the room.
         As she suspected, he turned to neither. Instead, he began his speech again after years of silence and endurance of trying to have his opinion swayed – endurance of attempted seduction, tidings of comfort and joy, and anything in between – and, also as she suspected, before he had finished the first sentence (“I exist harbouring both Good and Evil within me-”), both Masters of Ceremonies had his hands behind his back.
         Around her, on the Evil side, she heard muttered dissent: should he be killed, or forced to choose? Their uncertain questioning gave her the courage to run up, stand beside him and cry out, “He’s right, don’t you see? Even just on my side, some don’t want him killed! And-,” pointing to the Good side “-I’m sure some of you would like him dead!” This had the Pure Master of Ceremonies grabbing her hands and twisting them behind her back.
         “And…” she added, in a softer voice as she looked right into the boy’s eyes, “in my heart, I know he’s right because I…I can feel good as well as evil, because I…love him.”
         The Master of Ceremonies shook her and hissed in her ear, “Blasphemy! Sinners are not capable of love! I’ll have you killed!” just as the other Master released the boy.
         She stared, and her Master shrugged. “He’s of no harm to our side, either way. He either sides with us, strengthening our numbers, or stays neutral or chooses Good, only serving to increase our Evil by hate.”
         In the girl’s eyes, releasing the boy and rendering him insignificant was the….Goodest thing her Master had ever done. She knew for certain the boy was right above all now, and longed to hug him…she reached, and he came over to her.
         “You love me?” He asked, and as he looked in her eyes saw the truth of his question and his belief shining there.
         “She can’t; she’s a sinner, Evil!” The Pure Master yelled again, and the Good side cheered their approval of his words.
         “In part, maybe, but not in whole…” The boy reached for her face, wanting to caress it and encourage her double-sidedness, but was wrenched back by one of the more fanatical Pure ones.
         The Evil ones had become fairly passive as a whole after hearing their Master speak, but some still glowered as the Pure Master restrained one of their side.
         “These two are a threat to our side,” the fanatic cried out, “He is unstable and unfit for swearing to either side, and an evil one who loves cannot be allowed to continue!”
         Before anyone could oppose him, he snapped the boy’s neck as he yelled, “For Good and Purity!”
         The girl followed the poor boy’s shocked eyes with hers until his face hit the floor, and then she cried.
         This swayed many of the Evil side to believe she was not fit to be a sinner, and to consent to her death as well.
         Tears streaming down her face, the Master threw her towards the fanatic and laughed. “A sinner who loves…it’s pathetic and unnatural.”
         “And you…are an angel who hates,” she smiled over at him through her tears, and managed, “Ironi-,” before she too had her neck snapped.
         The two weren’t even given so much as infamous name; didn’t have their tale told as a warning; didn’t even merit spiteful gravestones. They were tossed into the earth, buried, and from then on, like their opinions, were ignored.