I hate being this lonely. All the time, too. It's not a normal person's passing depression or the blues. It's more than that. I firmly believe what's done is done, so I believe I can't be saved. From myself that is. But enough about me. Nobody cares about that, probably.
But I'm going through a particularly tough time. I just moved into Topeka, Kansas, and so far I'm just another invisible face on the street. I'm fine with that. I really don't want to be noticed when there are people who need and appriciate it more.
One day, after my boss treated me like the pushover I am at work and my fellow college students walked all over me, I remembered something my grandmother used to say to me when I was a child. Something about how she sold her soul to the devil and was loving life. She was an artist, and a rather rich one at that. She died 7 years ago. Nobody really knows why, but she was found ripped apart like a wild animal had attacked her.
At that fateful time, I was drunk. My conciousness had checked out for the next 12 hours or so, and my body was running off of instinct. I wouldn't remember what had happened at all that night if it weren't for an old style video camera that was mysteriously left at my house. It had filmed the whole thing. This was the video that I watched.
The camera angle was shaky, as if someone was carrying it and walking and filming me all at the same time. I'd gone out to the local pub (alone, of course) and got myself drunk. The video was taken at about 1:30 AM, when I was stumbling back home.
I apparently remembered the soul-selling spell that Grandma had mentioned perfectly in my drunken state, and even managed to preform it correctly. After I had finished the incantation (in Latin, I think, but I really don't know) a man appeared. This scared the crap out of me when I was watching the video the next day.
"'Ello, Melissa," the guy said politely, in a Brittish accent. "What can I help you with?"
"Are you Lucifer?" I asked in the weird voice that drunk people talk in.
"Pretty far from 'im, dear. Now would you like to make a deal?"
"Who are you then?" I asked, mystified.
"I'm Crowley, King of Hell, at your service."
"Okay Crowley, King of Hell. I would like to be your best friend," Satan raised his eyebrows at this.
"And you're absolutely positive that this is how you want to spend your soul?" he said.
"I just want some friends!"
"I can get people to like you."
"No! I wanna be Satan's friend!" The devil rolled his eyes.
"Alright. It's your soul. However, I refuse to be held responsible for your actions under the influence."
I smiled shakily before Crowley, the King of Hell, grabbed my face and kissed me on the lips to seal the deal. Then he dissappeared, and the video ended.
