The next two weeks were, quite literally, Hell. At first Lilith left me in a sleep-like state inside my own body, and I didn't know what was happening. But once in a while she would wake me up to talk to me, in that same sing-songy gentle voice. She always said she wanted us to have a good time while we were together, that she had important work to do, and that I was helping her do it.
I never understood why she did it, because it must have been easier for her when I was unconscious. Every time she let me wake up, I would fight and fight to regain control of my body, until she crushed me back down. She'd tell me that I needed discipline, and then she would let me see what was happening outside of my body, as a punishment, I suppose.
I couldn't speak, I couldn't control my body, but I could see everything. The first time, Lilith got up from the sofa in my playroom, where she had been watching TV, and skipped out to the front hall. She saw my father talking to Mrs. Vandermere just inside the front door. He looked nervous, scared even. I tried to call out to him to watch out, but he couldn't hear me.
"Daddy, why is she here?" Lilith asked him in my voice.
"Oh, Sweetie," he started to say. I could see beads of sweat forming on his forehead. "Daddy forgot that he asked Mrs. Vandermere to babysit tonight, because Mommy and I had tickets to a play, and Grandpa had a meeting. I forgot to tell her that our plans changed, and we didn't need her now."
Lilith looked over at Mrs. Vandermere, and so did I. Then she looked back at Daddy. "Why did you all want to go out tonight, Daddy?" she asked. "You should want to be home with me. It's my birthday! Don't you love me?"
"Of course I do," he protested, his voice shaking.
Mrs. Vandermere looked confused. "Maddie, your birthday is in November," she said.
Lilith stared at her with a look of contempt. She raised my hand, and with a careless gesture snapped Mrs. Vandermere's neck.
"I don't like babysitters. They're mean," she said, as Daddy tried not to gasp in horror. "Come on, Daddy! It's almost time for cake!"
* * *
For days I screamed, and cried, and raged against Lilith, but all it did was make her angry. So after a while I stayed quiet. I gagged when she made me eat birthday cake every day for over a week. I cringed when she yelled at my parents and my grandfather. I watched as she carved scratches into my mother's back, and turned my father's pasta into maggots. I didn't fight when she wore all of the frilly dresses I hated, then rolled around in the dirt or spilled juice all over them.
I tried not let myself see Mrs. Vandermere's rotting corpse on the floor of the front hall, but I could smell it.
The longer she was inside of me, the worse it got. She was waiting for something; she never told me what it was, but she was impatient, and it her anger grew worse with every passing day. She no longer even tried to pretend that she was there for anything good.
I saw my family, terrified of me - even though they seemed to instinctively know it wasn't actually me. My father cautiously approached me to ask if he could "please" go to work, "so I don't lose my job."
"Why would you want to go to work, Daddy?" she asked. "Don't you want to be with me?"
"Of course I do..." he'd mumbled, but it wasn't enough for her.
She flicked my hand, and he flew against the wall. My mother stared at me, and I knew she only saw a monster. Didn't she know I was trapped in there? Why wasn't she helping me?
But the worst day was still to come.
* * *
She knew.
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Childhood Possessions
FanfictionIt is the night of "No Rest for the Wicked": the last day of Dean Winchester's life. We know what happened to Dean. We know what happened to Sam. We know what happened to Ruby, and to Bobby. We know what happened to Lilith. But what about the little...