Polaroids, Chicken Soup, and a Demon?

Written by Sierra Sawyer

          I woke up this morning with my nose stuffy, and throat scratchy. " Great, fucking great," I thought, I'm getting sick. I was happy that I didn't have to work today, but I was also kind of annoyed that the one time I have a day off, I'm sick. I decided that I'd have time to mope around about being sick later on, and I got my happy ass up out of bed. I was a little tired as I walked down the stairs of my home, trying not to trip over my own feet. The hardwood stairs were cold against my sockless feet, so I tried walking quicker to get to my carpeted living room downstairs. As I happily stepped off the last step onto the furry black carpet of my living room, I thought about what to do while I was down here.

          As I thought about what to do with my day off today, I caught a glimpse of some of my old pictures hung up. Old Polaroid pictures were taken with the camera I still have upstairs. I remember my grandma's black cat following me around the day I got it, pictures hung up on the wall showing these memories. One showed him sat right on my feet, you can see that I was looking directly down at him when I took the picture, the flash reflected in his eyes making it seem surreal.

          My grandma and I had been very close growing up, she always had these stories of little black cats that were called familiars. She would tell me about how witches always had a familiar close by to guide them through life. At first, I was scared and confused as to why my grandma talked so fondly of witches, why talk fondly of some evil being that raises the dead and curses those around them. She then explained to me, once she saw my frightened expression, that not all witches are bad, a lot of witches want to help and tend to be closer to nature and spirits. With this new outlook on what witches actually are and can be, I asked her " Are you a witch then Grandma? ". She told me she supposed that she would be considered one. I asked her if I could become a witch too, she nodded slightly and grinned down at me as we continued to cook. She never really explained anything further about witches and becoming one, and considering that I was just a kid at the time I had naturally forgotten about it over time.

          I had actually forgotten about the whole incident until I found the cookbook she had been using at the time, tucked away on my bookshelf in the kitchen. I keep all my cookbooks and recipes together on a small little bookshelf next to the doorway of my kitchen. I was looking through some of them to find some sort of soup to make, hopefully, to help soothe my sore throat, or at the very least fill my stomach without making myself sick. 

          So I pulled out the bigger cookbook, only to notice that it was the one my grandma had always used when I was younger. I noticed the binding was slightly cracked from being used so many times, and that the leather cover was still in decent shape. I decided to flip through the little cookbook to see what it had to offer to help me with my sickness. After turning a few pages I come to a recipe that seems simple and quick enough to make, it being a recipe for chicken soup. I decided that that is what I will make before I return back to my room for the day.

          I dig through all my pots and pans looking for a decently sized one to use for my soup, I knew that I'd have leftovers so I didn't want to have a small pot when I'm cooking the soup. As I start reading through the recipe, I begin to start cooking. Adding in the ingredients, one by one and slowly stirring the mixture as I bring it to a boil. Once everything is added and it's coming to a boil, I notice my kitchen light started to flicker slightly, I set the heat to a simmer, letting the soup cook a little longer. As I do this I turn and notice my kitchen window was slightly ajar, I thought I'd closed that. As I close the window, and I'm about to lock the latch back to prevent it from opening again, there is a loud commotion from behind me. 

          I quickly realize that the commotion was actually a small explosion, at least that's what it seems like. I look up seeing this creature standing in the middle of what is left of my small kitchen. It's tall and scrawny, looked to be just skin and bones in tattered clothing, its skin dark charcoal.  The demon slowly rises to a standing form amidst my destroyed kitchen screaming, " How!? How were you able to summon me?!" I'm now standing in the corner flipping through my grandma's cookbook as fast as I can, screaming back, " I don't know!!! You were supposed to be chicken soup!". My eyes popping out of my skull, my mouth agape in shock and utter confusion.