If I weren’t already dead I would fling myself from the highest building in Paris for my idiocy. I was a fool. A complete and utter fool. How could I have thought that the death of Marat would stop Robespierres murderous crusade? How could I have not anticipated the bloodshed that would follow my actions? I thought I would be a hero, and save thousands of lives by sacrificing my own and that demons. But no, after Marat’s death he was raised upon their shoulders as a martyr, their hero against the unrighteous Girodins. Without a physical body anymore, I could do nothing but watch helplessly as my friends were slaughtered with renewed vengeance. My death was not enough to satisfy their bloodshed; they wanted more and that made them a prime target for Monsieur Robespierre. That monster, that demonic bastard, he turns their blood thirst against their own countrymen, assuring them that there is no harm in slaughtering anyone who looks at them wrong. He uses their grief for Jean-Paul Marat to numb them to the horrors he’s committing, and no one can see it! He’s going to kill them all one by one, and by the time they realize he’s insane they’ll be next and all of France will lie in ruins. He’s a murderer, an inane killer who will stop at nothing to get what he wants.
However, I suppose I can’t talk really. I killed Marat in cold blood. My hands are stained with his blood, and they will never be clean again. Was he deserving of death? Yes. I am still convinced of that. But maybe I was too. During my days in the convent, the other nuns preached against killing at all costs, regardless of consequences, or whether or not they deserved it. At the time I dismissed it as an overstatement, but now I am starting to think they may have been right. I accuse the Committee of Public Safety of being bloodthirsty, but perhaps I too am guilty of that. My murder of Jean-Paul Marat did not solve anything, but instead made the matter worse. Perhaps I am just as bad as him. Yes, I was trying to do the right thing. But as they say, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.