Azure

The Guardian Demon

"Listen to your mother, this time."
The first time Emma saw these bloody words appear on her mirror was when she was nine years old. Though the words did scare her, nothing could scare her more than her mother screaming from downstairs, amplified by the sound effects of banging pots and pans. Unsure if her mother had somehow played a trick on her and not wanting to incur further wrath, Emma complied.

Winter became spring and the frost melted off just like the strange and frightening words did from Emma's memory. Their next appearance was the day before her tenth birthday. She was standing in the bathroom combing her long coppery hair. The steam was still thick and the mirror was fogged up. Words slowly took shape and she watched in silence, her breath caught in her throat.

"Do not forget about your test, kiddo." Strange. That was all she could use to describe these events. There was no way it was her mother, because this time she had not informed her mother about the test. Petrified, Emma grabbed a hold of the comb, took a step back and whispered, "I promise I will not."
Then, she fled out of the room as if someone had let lose a swarm of bees behind her.

"Happy Birthday sweetheart, make sure to say thank you, even if you do not like the gifts."

A frown spread across her face as she looked at the blood words on the mirror. They were right. The birthday gifts would be terrible, but not as terrible as her mother making a scene about how ungrateful and spoiled she was. Weird dolphin stationary, a pack of cheap makeup, and an ugly dress later, Emma smiled and thanked her mother. It was not the worst birthday she had.

Later that night she took her red lipstick and wrote a small message on the mirror in pretty cursive that she had practiced meticulously. The message was simply "Thank you." The next morning bloody words appeared across the mirror. "Of course! Now clean this up before your mom sees it."

Emma smiled at the messy mirror and watched as the blood faded away until only the lipstick remained. She cleaned the mirror, determined not to incur her mother's anger or betray her secret.

The seasons shifted and changed and the mirror spoke to Emma more often. Sometimes it was about small helpful things. "Do not forget your keys again." "Remember to find a gift for your mother." "Be gracious." "Remember the dishes." Sometimes though, it was about other things. "You will remember who you truly are." "Never stop being angry with her, but pretend until it's time." "You will understand when you're older."

Emma's mother knew something had changed with her over the years, but in spite of her various efforts, she could never figure out what it was. Throughout the years her mother had had the self-realization that the credit for Emma's positive changes could not be pinned on her, and this made her bitter. She never let go of any opportunity to bring Emma down, but nothing seemed to work. The man behind the mirror always succeeded in cheering her up, no matter how bad the circumstances.

Even though Emma had never truly met the individual behind these peculiar events, she had grown fond of him. Over the course of her childhood and teenage, they kept growing closer by exchanging messages on the bathroom mirror.

Demon's POV:

I am Guardian Demon.

Yeah, you read that right. We are not as often requested as those feathery halo-wearing creatures, but we take our jobs seriously.

'Course, we have got to go about it a bit differently. No sense in doing the same damn thing – we are summoned for a reason.

Guardian angels work pretty much exactly how you think. They look out for you, having you trip on the sidewalk to avoid getting hit by a car and whatnot. They love tangling with the threads of fate, plucking a string here and tying a loose end there. And while they are good at predicting things long term, they suck at long term errands.

So for every time someone has told you "you must have a guardian angel looking out for you!" after narrowly dodging that falling AC unit, those same fairies would not do anything to help repair your breaking heart. "They need to learn" they will say. "Now they will appreciate the next one more"they will say. These "angels" are on their high horses while you suffer.

We do not usually believe in going about things the right way. Putting a spin on things is our specialty. The only "morally" good thing we do is remind people about their schedules.

This is boring, however.

What we enjoy most about our jobs is the "sense of justice" it gives us. Our definition of "help" doesn't line up with these sterling spirits. We torture people who have wronged you. We are cunning and tolerant.

A guy cheated on a test and got more than you? Bam. He failed Home Economics.
Snot-nosed cousin punched you? Introduced his ice cream to the ground.
A cute boy said no to go to the dance with you? Now he has no date.
Teacher always graded you most harshly? Guess who is the stimulus for the recent school shootings. Ha ha. Just kidding.

Emma is my most recent task. And she is my favorite too. I do like to be humble, but I mean, I do deserve some, if not all, credit for shaping her into the wonderful girl she is today.

Our first few encounters had been a compilation of her being intimidated by me. But after two years of diligent and relentless efforts on my part, she had finally warmed up to me and the idea of me reminding her of her daily chores. Our relationship is a secret. Nobody can know about it, otherwise I will be extracted from Emma and be given to some other, cruel boy.

I hope you can keep this between just the two  of us. Do not breathe a word of this to anyone. Not even your closest friend. Shh.

See you soon at your house, inside your mirror.
Yours truly.

-Rtr.Vanshita Agrawal