The Devil's Daughter (ON HOLD)

Chapter One

THE SUNLIGHT CREPT through the smallest of cracks in the curtain, illuminating the dark bedroom. It shone upon the posters that depicted graphic images of angels and demons engaged in an eternal fight, a battlefield frozen forever in time by the artist who painted it. The black walls of the bedroom had been treated as a blackboard, for it was covered with similar chalk-drawn images of angels and demons and other terrifyingly beautiful creatures, each one as clear as a photograph, showcasing a true talent for art. Above the headboard rested a female angel, looking down upon the figure resting in the bed, as though watching over her.

As the sunlight stretched to touch the face of the sleeping girl, she stirred, her eyelids parting to reveal golden brown eyes that seemed to reflect the rays of the sun. The girl rolled over to view her clock, noting that the time was six fifty-nine. She groaned, and watched as the time flicked over to seven, activating the radio alarm. She reached over and switched it off, stretching.

The closed curtains and dark room were a clear reflection of the girl in the room. She barely left the house other than to go to school, though she always wore the same dark oversized clothing when she did. Because of this, her skin was as pale as snow, and her body was quite frail, as she had built up no muscle, save for that on her forearms that she used to draw her pictures.

The girl stood to her feet, her dark brown hair falling messily over her shoulders. She dressed in her black clothes, making sure to cover her hair and much of her face with her hood. The girl picked up her black backpack and slipped on her black runners, leaving her bedroom and heading for the kitchen.

When she entered, her mother placed a plate of food on the table for her, as she did every morning.

"Good morning, Demi," she said gently, smiling.

"Morning," Demi replied, ignoring the food. Her mother's smile dropped.

"You really should eat something," she said, anxiety in her voice. Demi ignored her mother.

"You know I don't eat breakfast," she replied, without emotion. "I eat lunch though, you know that."

Her mother nodded.

"I'd better go," Demi added, "or I'll be late. Bye."

Her mother nodded again, and Demi left the house through the front door, walking out to the bus stop outside her house just as the school bus arrived. Demi muttered a curse under her breath before she stepped onto the bus. School awaited.

😈

Demi entered the school yard, alone and yet not fazed, as she was used to it. Sometimes she thought she was cursed to live an eternity alone, with no friends and no one who cared about her existence, for she had never once had a friend.

She walked through the school yard unnoticed, as though she was a part of the scenery. All around her, students talked and laughed and hugged, and yet she had never been a part of it. The truth was, whenever Demi was spoken to, she always choked on her words, unable to hold a conversation or keep eye contact due to the suffocating anxiety that seemed to crush her chest whenever she tried. The only exception to that rule was her mother, and yet even then they didn't have a very deep connection, because Demi had never felt love.

Demi entered her first class for the day, sitting in her usual place down the back, slipping in her headphones. She wasn't like one of the kids who kept to themselves in order to improve their academic achievement. Demi didn't listen in class, and had she been in a private school she would have been expelled years before. She could not remember the last time she got above an E on a test, but she didn't care. The fact was, Demi had never done anything that she enjoyed except drawing.