Where the Sun meets the Moon

Elia and the Demon, by Neptune

We had no control over it. I promise you! When Elia killed her slave owner at just eight years old, we thought the kill would be her last. We never knew she would become a monster.​​​​​​​​...
A young spider was busy slinging a beautiful web, feeling quite proud of its work in progress, when it was disturbed by a door bursting open. A short, malnourished and exhausted girl came rushing into the room. Six-year-old Elia quickly slammed the door shut, unstirred by the darkness as her little belly was erupting with laughter. It wasn't much of a room – more like a storage cupboard - a dusty, dark and dank storage cupboard. Still laughing, Elia made a barricade with an ironing board, a pile of rags and almost empty paint cans.         ​​​​​​​​
"You're so stupid!" she shouted, followed by innocent giggles, replaying over and over in her mind the Demon slipping down the steps in the back garden, with its quite out-of-proportion behind crashing on the bottom step. "You're so ugly and stupid and... and you smell bad! Ha-ha-ha!" The spider could feel Elia's heart race. It understood her emotions to be a complex mix of both joy and terror. It could feel the fire inside of Elia's little chest, still aflame with the stern defiance Mars instilled in her four weeks ago on the night she was taken. She was defiant indeed, but alas, she was defeated.  Elia was now at the behest of the thing that loomed at the other side of her door. ​​​This little moment of calamity from the Demon was just what Elia had been waiting for. The spider understood that Elia was laughing out of resentment: she held a seething grudge towards the Demon for the scald on Elia's forearm, the kettle being the weapon of choice at that moment because Elia refused to clean the bathroom. The spider guessed the resentment that was built up inside of Elia was perhaps also for the bruise on the back of her right leg that came from the day she got whipped with the lead and plug from a small lounge lamp. There was no explanation for this one, however: the Demon just thought that Elia needed to 'toughen up'. Right now, Elia is in fits of giggles. She doesn't care about the punishment she'll receive later, she only cares about making the Demon suffer, for Elia learned a valuable lesson today: the Demon can be hurt, and its Achilles Heel is through ridicule and embarrassment. It was pounding on the door now, calling Elia an 'ugly boy'. Elia felt her hair and was reminded of the awful haircut the Demon gave her yesterday - one with the very intention of defeminising the little girl. It was only a matter of time before the door was burst open. The Demon crept towards Elia, breathing like a wolf as it growls at its prey. The spider watched while Elia stood her ground against the large silhouette of the Demon, and its flowing black gown, as it approached the child. The fire in Elia's chest burned large throughout her body, and, with an air of coolness, she smiled, and the fire erupted through her confident voice, burning the Demon's ears with the words "You're an idiot"...                         

Elia went to sleep that night with rage coursing through her body like lava. She thought of all the words she should have said to the Demon that could have inflicted more damage. Elia would surely use such words to deadly effect the next time she was attacked by the monster, she asserted. As Elia drifted off into my domain, her slumber, she was greeted by thunder and lightning, with a backdrop of purple clouds. Her heart throbbing, and drenched with perspiration, she woke in the middle of the night to the sound of rumbling. It must have been the Demon upstairs in its room, opening the sliding doors to the wardrobe. Elia's heart sank as she remembered where she was, and that she was locked in that small, foul-smelling cupboard. She began to think of her mother and remembered what it was like to be held in her arms. She could still smell the blueberry and jasmine scent from the fabric conditioner her mother used on her clothes, and feel the softness of her mother's skin pressed against her cheek. She wished she could be with her mother now, more than anything in the world. Elia's mother is called Amira, and in her lucid dreams, Elia could recapture her mother's image vividly. She had long black hair, prominent cheekbones and large, brown eyes – similar eyes to Elia, in fact. Elia remembered the days when her mother would bring her to the souk markets. She was now entranced with the smells of the buns and cakes – her mind doing such a great job that her mouth began to salivate – succulent fresh muffin smells seemingly infiltrating her nostrils. Such wonderful aromas would most certainly be a welcome alternative from the horrible leftovers that she was used to now. ​