My Deal With The Devil's Son

Chapter 1

Picture of Louisa ------------->

***

I walked in from school tired and exhausted. I just wanted to lounge on my bed with my iPod and drift off to sleep. The idea seemed like heaven to me right now and I pictured the scene with a feeling of bliss.

I trudged up the breezy stairwell as I simply could not be bothered to wait for the lift. We lived in a modern building so we had full functioning lifts but it's many floors caused a wait I wasn't prepare for at the moment. With every step, I told myself I was closer to my nice warm and cosy bed. When I reached the landing of my floor a smile eased onto my face and I took the last few remaining steps to our front door.

I almost cried out in rejoice as it had been a long day, an exhausting one and I felt I deserved some rest.

Instead when I walked in, I was not greeted by my luxurious bed, but my grandmother. She gave me a crazy look while holding a steak knife, pointing it at me. I was paralysed, too scared to take another step. So terrified to draw another breath. The reflection from the knife caught in the sunlight which made it seemed all the more terrifying and eerie.

"Who are you? What do you want with me?" She wailed. I could tell my grandmother was just as afraid as I was. She had completely no idea who I was. The thought stung but I had grown accustomed to it by now, this was a regular occurrence but none thus far had been so intense and so petrifying.

"Grandmother, it's me, Louisa. Don't you remember me? Your granddaughter?" I pleaded with her. My grandmother covered her ears, screaming. I couldn't do anything, I couldn't move, it was like the carpet fires had an invisible hold on me, wrapping themselves around my ankles to prevent me from running to her aid. I was trying to protect myself, I knew if I neared her, she would panic and use the weapon she now held. In order to help her, I had to protect myself.

My grandmother was mentally ill, she was also the only family I had left. I took care of her but recently her illness was getting more and more intense. Each day that passed, she got more paranoid and agitated. She didn't recognise me anymore and she was scared of everyone. She had lost all connection with the world. She couldn't think straight as a result of her paranoia, which terrified me. There was no hope of regaining her stability, she was too far gone and there was no return much to my despair.

I pulled out my cell and called her carer, frantically punching in the number, desperately seeking help. Tears pooled in my eyes and threatened to spill over. I was loosing her, I was loosing all I had left. Alone, I will be forced to live alone.

Whilst waiting for her to come, I tried to console my grandmother but she jabbed the knife she was holding at me aggressively, a look of terror in her brown eyes. After many failed attempts reasoning with her, I gave up. I ran out the front door, closing it behind me with a thud. I ha failed her, I made a promise to myself to stand by her and now I ran, too scared to deal with her issues. The tears finally fell from my eyes and I couldn't stop them. I sat alone in the grey hallway waiting impatiently for her carer to come, my cheeks wet with salty tears and my eyelashes sticking together.

When she arrived I stood up and explained my grandmother had a weapon. I pleaded with her to understand she was just acting on instinct as she had no recollection of ever meeting me and it was in no way her fault. I begged her not to do what I know she would. She gave a startled gasp after my pleas, looked at me sympathetically but called the cops anyway.

I understood it was for all our well being to have the cops deal with it. She would then be taken to a mental home where she couldn't put herself or anyone else in danger. It was for the best but I acted selfishly, I wanted her to stay with me. I was inconsolable, I didn't know how I was going to live on my own. We lived off my grandmothers savings and now they would go towards her care, leaving me to fend for myself when I wasn't even finished high school. Again I knew I was being selfish but I couldn't accept the fact I now had no family.

The cops arrived and brought my protesting grandmother out of our apartment and took her away as if it were nothing. They didn't flinch as she thrashed at them but it broke my heart to see her so panicked and child-like. She screamed and clung to every door frame or railing she could find, it was a traumatic experience and one that I would never forget.

I knew this day was bound to come but I just didn't want it to come right now. I hoped to at least finish school and get a job, to be able to provide for myself.

I inhaled a deep breath before letting it back out again to regain control over myself, wiping my face clean as I went into the apartment which now belonged to only me. A deep sadness washed over me as I thought again how this was mine, all mine. Not ours, not belonging to my grandmother and I but myself, just me.

I flopped down on my bed and cried myself to sleep, I had no idea what I was going to do now. How could I pay the rent? How could I pay for food? How could I keep up with bills with no job? How could I live?

***

The phone ringing awoke me from my slumber and I sprinted to it, in-case it was news of my grandmother. I desperately hoped it was, I needed the reassurance that she was okay.

It wasn't.

It was our landlord. He was filthy rich and a total ass. Peter Collins, the name brought a disgusted look to my face. I was convinced along with the chain of clubs he owned, he definitely had another source of income. One which was illegal and powdery white.

"Where's my rent? It was due two days ago." His harsh, cold voice was like ice water being thrown over me. The man sent chills through me, and not the good kind.

"Look, Mr Collins, my grandmother has been hospitalised and I have no way of paying you, but we could work something out-" he cut me off.

"No money, no apartment. You have two days to move your things. I don't do charity," he almost spat.

He hung up then. What an ass. Peter Collins didn't have a compassionate bone in his body and I was a fool for believing even for a second he would care about my family issues. I really couldn't stand him.

I quickly did my homework not putting any effort into it but somehow getting it done, and went to bed. I'd figure out something to do tomorrow, I hoped, I really did.