Part 1 (1/2)
Demon Girl.
By Lisa M. Cronkhite.
To my two little demons, Jake and Abigail.
First of all I'd like to thank all of Eternal Press for taking an interest in my work and investing all their time and energy into making my dream come true. Thank you to my absolute best friend and adoring husband, Michael who is a fountain of ideas and inspiration. Thanks to my beautiful mom, Susan for reading each and every story and poem I've ever written. And also thanks to my friends on my writing sites. You know who you are. Thanks again. Love you guys!
Chapter One.
I had a life before this, before I met him.
I didn't even know him, and yet already I was in love. We'd only written to each other a few times, but I could hear his voice inside my head. We hadn't met in person, but I was attracted to him as if it was love at first sight. He made me feel good the moment we started talking together on the net. I knew he was the one.
It was a cool September morning as the sun filtered through the blinds. After I awoke to the light, I walked over to the balcony, opening the door a crack to let in a slight breeze. The day brightened into a pale blue as ribbon-like clouds streamed the sky.
Changing from the night before, I noticed my nails were still painted blue and my skin dark. As I waited for my body to adjust, I turned around and headed over to the computer to check if he'd messaged me yet.
I remembered the day we met online. I was feeling down, locked in this h.e.l.l of mine. He peeked through me like an open door when he sent his first note. I've seen you here before, he'd written in his e-mail. I was intrigued from that moment.
So many times, I'd felt invisible, like no one even noticed I was there, but he saw me on the poetry site that day and remembered me from before. He took a liking to my inner me.
As the computer lit up, I stared into the screen's light, reminiscing about my first reply.
What's it to you? I had written in response, hoping to protect him in some waya”to protect him from me. I hadn't a clue what I was getting into, but it felt like someone had just awoken me from the dead life I was living.
Well, I've read your poetry, it's wonderful, he had responded.
Oh, is that it?
Yes, it moves me in ways you wouldn't believe.
I was taken aback by his response. I didn't know what to say. All these months writing poetry online, I finally had attracted someone to ita”all of it. It's what I'd been waiting for. Delmara said it would happen one day, but I wasn't sure how it would happena”or when.
The last poem I posted was Come Back to Me: Love, a vast traveling sea, calm mea”
this ravished heart of mine has failed.
I beg you; guide my rafting thought afloat. Capture my winds of breath; cradle them as I set sail in search of you. Come back to me, join me in paradise, where we once met in dreams. Carry me away to the silk sand, be inside me once more. For this emptiness, this loss of you, has drowned me.
It moves me like you wouldn't believe; I reminded myself of the words he had written.
I was flattered he enjoyed my work in such a way. It was like the poem I'd written; he cradled my thoughts and carried me away on his words alone.
For the past year, I'd been writing poetry for cathartic reasons. My doctor said it would be a good coping skill for my disorder, but I had other reasons too. As the months pa.s.sed, I began to post my work on PoetMania.com. I never thought it would reach out to another person in such a way.
Once I got to my inbox, I began to sift through his old messages: Let me properly introduce myself. My name is Jesse Carson. I'm also a writer. I find it relaxing. I just registered Monday and saw your username ”DemonGirl” a few times and read all you posted. I was very impressed.
That message was dated two months ago.
From that point on, we became friends. We messaged each other back and forth like two old pals. I never told him about the darker side of me. I didn't want to scare him away. I had to keep that hidden.
As I began to read some of his first few notes, I remembered the feeling they'd given me. I'd felt warm inside, as if someone had sparked fire within my soul. My senses had expanded with incredible energy, and my eyes could see immeasurable distances. I had taken flight that night, soaring through the black skies, and knew he was the one. No one else made me feel that way before. I had never experienced love like this; I was in a dream.
As I lingered on his old messages, I opened an attachment of his picturea”the one where he stood on the edge of a mountain. He looked like he could flya”like he could do anything. Jesse was special, and he was the adventurous type. Every little detail I found out about him made him even more appealing.
We exchanged pictures. Jesse was a slim man in his twenties, with jet-black hair and ice-blue eyes. His face had chiseled cheekbones, like a magazine model. He stood about six feet three and smiled in all his pictures. He was happy to know me. What he didn't know was that I sent him pictures of the person I used to bea”a beautiful woman with long, flowing blonde hair and green eyes, the woman that used to be a size two, the woman that once had beautiful, smooth skin.
I looked down at my skin now and reminded myself that it would happen again. As the sky grew lighter, my body transformed back into its natural shape. My nails were now clear and glossy as I sat there at the computer.
He would be horrified at the way I looked in the dark, when I became something different, something not human. He would never believe what I had become after the incident occurred.
As I sat there and stared, a new message popped in my inbox: Charlene, I haven't heard from you in a while, is everything okay? Jesse wrote.
He went on to say he wanted to finally see me. In the past months, Jesse showed his love toward me, as I did for him, but he was in love with the inner me. I was deathly afraid if we were to meet, would everything change right then and there? That would ruin everything. G.o.d had cursed me to h.e.l.l one year ago when I killed myself that daya”the day I lost it all. In the hospital, I was reborn into another life, yet I carried the burden of being a fallen angel of darkness. To redeem myself I had to make a choicea”live on this h.e.l.lish earth, a monster for all eternity and condemned to saving lives from making the same decision I made, or have my precious son and my beloved mother in my past life killed. I had to stop the cycle from happening. There was only one way out of it.
Looking back on it now, it was the worst decision I could have made, yet I couldn't get over the rape. There seemed to be no end to my darkness. When I finally did make the decision to end my life, everything changed for me from that point. I didn't remember much, but I knew something was different. I wasn't the same.
I was reborn into this purgatory of mine and had to protect my son and my mother. If I were to see them now, they would surely die. I had to break this curse upon me. I had to save my Drake at all costs.
It was a doubled-edged sword; that is what I got for committing the greatest sin. Here was my chance at breaking the spell. Jesse was half-way there. Maybe he could love both sides of me. I had to take that chance, so I made a decisiona”to meet him in person for the first time. First, I felt the urge to tell him the truth: Jesse there is something I need to talk to you about.
However, in all honesty, I couldn't bear the thought of him knowing. After I sent my message, there was no going back.
It was now seven a.m. and the sun had risen on a clear, crisp day.
I had to get ready for work. Although my job as a waitress was hardly exciting, I made good money in tips. I needed something to pay for my one-bedroom apartment. David the landlord was nice enough to cut me a deal.
As I got dressed, I reminded myself of the dream. Delmara, one of G.o.d's angels, came to me with a message. I was to go on my first missiona”to save a girl named Sarah from committing suicide. There was only one problem; Sarah was Jesse's ex-girlfriend, and still in love with him.
Chapter Two.
When I stepped out into the hallway and locked my door, I was startled by a voice.
”Charlene?”
”Oh, David, it's just you. You scared me,” I said to him as I turned around.
”I hate to bother you, Charlene, but I haven't seen you around lately. Is everything okay?”
I found it strange David had asked me that. Sometimes he wouldn't even acknowledge me in the halls or when we pa.s.sed by each other in the parking lot, and then other times he wouldn't stop talking.
He was an older mana”in his mid-fortiesa*with short brown hair and gray eyes. He lived alone on the first floor and kept to himself most days. All I knew of him was that he was once married and his wife had pa.s.sed away several years ago.