There isn't a point in describing Ebony. You know about her what she wants you to know. If there were encyclopaedias about her you still wouldn't understand a thing unless she wanted you to. This is a story of how Ebony's wrath once manifested.
~
I woke up inside her body once again. Granted it wasn't my body so my anger was misplaced but I was angry nonetheless. All I could do was sit around in her brain space and suggest things. It wasn't fair but I'd have to deal with it. Today was doomsday. The day a letter would arrive that would allow me to take some semblance of control even if was only for a few minutes.
She was awake and doing whatever it was that she did. Most days it was something useless and sometimes it was productive. Whatever it was got cut short by the sound of the letterbox.
Action time.
She raced down to the stairs and quickly snatched the letter and hid it behind her. Her mother came out asking what came through the post. She was a good liar, naturally, but for some reason today wasn't her day and her lies only piqued the interest of her mother. It's like her mother could sense the desperation in her words and the events that followed would change the course of her life. And mine.
Within seconds the piqued curiosity of her mother had turned into a frustration that her child was hiding something and unfortunately for her, she couldn't keep her hands to herself. Now obviously I couldn't just watch idly as my host's body accumulated bruises. So I took over. I hit back. I screamed and hissed ten times louder while she hid in a dark corner within her own mind. I did some real damage. I distinctly remember the taste of her mother's blood on my tongue. I bit her like a hysteric vampire. All of this just to stop her from reading the letter. She read it anyway.
The police arrived and handcuffed me. I still can't believe that bïtćh would call the police on her own daughter. Some people! But that's when I decided I'd had enough fun playing dress up and switched control back to her. There was no bad blood between me and her. After all we're basically the same person so what sense would it make to hate each other. We had a mutual understanding. She used me when she needed to and I had fun being used.
I won't bore you with the details of our night in a cold cell but to be honest I don't remember much of it anyway. This is the story of how she used me to protect us against her mother. It is also the story of how I landed us in a police station. Adieu.
