There was a dream that kept happening to me. I was caught on one side of a one-way mirror, apparently all alone. Yet, I could feel that there was someone, or something, watching me from the other side. Their power and hatred leaked and dripped like blood over to my side of the mirror; they wanted me to feel afraid, to disintegrate in paranoia. However, each time the dream happened to me, I was able to retain my sanity. Every time, I pushed aside the fear and willed the mirror to allow me to see what was on the other side. Again, every time, I only saw a shadow, with narrowed eyes glowing red… but the opposing will was stronger, and it woke me up. I would find myself covered with sweat, shaking from head to toe. The dream didn’t become a real problem until it broke through the mirror.
The dream happened again, but worse than before. This time, the will of the demon overcame my own. The fear and madness slowly sank into my heart, numbing it with cold. I tried to fight the darkness growing inside of me, but this time it was no good. The demon was the one with the power now. It used the mirror for its own purposes, and I sensed that it saw the face of its prey for the first time.
“The hunt will now begin,” the demon snarled gleefully. “After I see my victim’s face, they never escape their fate.” My eyes widened in horror, and my heart began to beat like a jackhammer against my ribs, pumping blood through every vein, making my extremities tingle.
“I can smell it, you know,” the demon cackled maliciously. I looked back up through the mirror that was quickly becoming transparent. The shadow of the demon seemed to grow more solid as my terror escalated. “The blood running through your veins is so sweet, so innocent. It will absolutely delightful to nibble on your tender flesh after the hunt is over and I have won.”
“I w-w-w-won’t l-l-l-let you!” I stuttered, my panic making my voice tremble. Then, I bit down hard on my bottom lip. Blood welled up from the bite-marks. I turned triumphantly towards the demon, excepting it to explode in a rage when it found out my scheme to wake up. However, I was disappointed when no such expression crossed its still-shadowed face.
The demon let out a loud, deep-throated laugh. “Foolish human. Do you think that any other victim has escaped me?!”
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For the third time that week, I woke up from the dream in a cold sweat. But, unlike the other times, blood was running, hot and sticky, down my chin from my lip. And the shadows were moving. I didn’t know if I was hallucinating or not, but the fear was real enough. The rest of the night, I sat huddled in a corner, the shadows laughing at me, growing larger in the absence of moonlight.
Worst of all, I could feel the gaze of red eyes staring at me for hours on end. There was no emotion behind them, but a sort of sick fascination that could never be overridden. Throughout the terribly silent night, I could never meet the gaze of those eyes. They always watched me from the corner of my eye, flitting from shadow to shadow, ever moving. I knew that there was no escape…until dawn arrived.
Finally, the blessed gray light dispelled the shadows that had seemed to have been there forever. At last, I had the courage to look at the eyes. But they had vanished, along with the shadows. Not even the figure of the demon was left. For the first time in what had seemed like years, I felt safe. The feeling was so complete, I cried for hours. When I was done, it was time for breakfast, and I couldn’t cry another single tear.
I limped downstairs, the pain of my bitten lip previously numbed by the fear, was back with a menace. My house’s homey kitchen had marble counters and an island in the center, next to the table. Dejectedly, I flopped down in my seat and waited for my mom to make cereal. Normally, I would have done it myself, but that day I was just too bone-tired.
“What’s wrong, honey?” my mom asked in her light, caring voice. “Did you sleep well?”
I didn’t reply. However, just when I thought that there were no more tears left inside me, I let out a fresh gush. I bawled like a baby, unashamed, tears running down my face. My heart felt like it was ripping itself to pieces. I didn’t want to die! Why me?
At once, my mom was at my side, hugging my shoulders, and encouraging me to tell her what was wrong. Some sort of premonition stopped me from spilling out everything to her, maybe implanted by the demon: if I told my mom, she would be involved too, and we would both be doomed. Since I was going to die anyway, I had to keep the people I knew and loved safe; the only way to do that was to keep this bottled up inside.
“Mommy,” I whimpered pitifully. Hearing my voice so broken and hopeless just made me cry more. I buried my face in my mom’s shoulder, my loud sobs racking my body.
When I finally got control of myself, I wiped the snot and tears from my face and sat next to a bowl of soggy cereal, sniffling. There was nothing I could do. The only course of action was to pretend that everything was fine.
“Are you sure that you can go to school tomorrow?” mom asked after my bout of tears.
“Y-yup,” I replied shakily. “I can go to school. Just, please don’t tell anybody about this.” Mom nodded, and smiled reassuringly at me. That smile almost made me cry again. I loved my family so much; I couldn’t let the demon kill them!
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On the way to school, I sat in the back, away from the noisy kids who were smiling and having fun with their lives. I couldn’t join them, knowing that I would be killed in a matter of days. To my shame, I even avoided my best friend, Patty. Just like with my mother, I couldn’t afford to anyone close to me involved.
Getting off the bus at school, my mood seemed to spread everywhere. The sixth graders kept away from me and the bullies took one look in my direction and saw that nothing they would say could hurt me.
Some say that people have ‘auras’. If you could see my aura that day, you would have backed away in fear, or come running to give me a hug, I was that depressed.
Walking into homeroom, I sat down and moped in my seat, not bothering to socialize with my other friends. They looked over at me oddly, but didn’t come over to see what was wrong… some friends!
The bell rang in its awful, shrieking tone, and everyone sat down. My homeroom teacher, Mrs. McKail, strode in through the door, looking as pompous as ever.
“Good morning class,” Mrs. McKail spoke loudly, her voice reverberating around the room.
“Good morning Mrs. McKail,” the class droned back like zombies, tired eyes staring forlornly at the overly-enthusiastic teacher.
“We have a new student joining us today,” Mrs. McKail pronounced unexpectedly. I sat up eagerly. Who could this person be? They might even help me destroy the foul demon that had come into my life! However, when the door opened again and the new student walked through, I knew that I was doomed.
The new student was a boy a little taller than I was, with dirty-blonde hair that hid his eyes. He was clothed in black and red, a matching bandana wrapped around his left bicep.
He seemed like a nice kid…until he turned to look at me. His eyes were blood-red. The worst part was that I didn’t think anyone else could see the evil that glimmered in them.
“Class, this is Ethan,” Mrs. McKail announced. “He moved here today and will be here for a few days to see if he likes our school. Let’s give him a good impression!”
I looked around the room to see the other students’ reactions. Most of the girls were sitting up straight in their seats, looking him up and down eagerly. The guys were doing so as well, but they were looking mostly at his bulging muscles and bandana, judging whether or not he’d be a threat to their social standing.
“You can have a seat right over there, next to the window.” I looked over at the class’s single window with dread. There was only one empty desk between it and me; that was where Ethan would sit? This couldn’t be happening!
Ethan sauntered over and plopped down in his seat. He turned to face me, and smiled with sharp, pointed teeth.
Instinctively, I shivered. Then, I felt a different sensation: like small but harmless projectiles were being hurled at me. I looked behind me to see that all the girls that had been admiring Ethan had started throwing whatever they could at me: erasers, wadded up pieces of paper; even a bottle of nail polish!
Unfortunately, it shattered splashed on the linoleum floor, right by my feet. Ms. McKail turned about and looked at me accusingly.
“Detention, at lunch time today,” she said abruptly, turning back to the board. I hung my head, downcast. Not only was a demon sitting next to me, but I had detention!
“Looks like we’ll be having detention together,” the demon chuckled in my ear. Conveniently, the teacher was facing the whiteboard and in the middle of a lecture.
“Not if I can help it,” I murmured grimly back.
At the end of class, I walked up to the teacher to apologize and see if there was anything that I could do to avoid detention with a demon.
“No, I’m sorry,” Mrs. McKail told me. “You need to think about what you did. I’m going to have to explain this to the custodian you know.”
I hung my head. That was it. Detention with a demon. And it would kill me slowly, painfully. But I had to endure; for my family, for my friends...
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When lunch time came around, I didn’t bring my lunch to detention, or a book; I brought a knife. During the morning classes, I had sunk deeper into my despair and hopelessness. However, there was something unexpected that rose up inside me: determination.
The feeling took me by surprise. I didn’t expect to have any emotions left after all of the tears and fear. However, though this feeling was unexpected, it was strong. I would not go down without a fight!
Ethan came in and locked the door, his red eyes flashing as he turned towards me.
“Are you ready?” he asked patiently. “This will be pretty painful.”
I held my small knife in front of me, ready to attack. “Yes. I’m ready. The question is… are you?” With that, I lunged at him.
Ethan easily evaded my charge, grabbed the back of my shirt as I ran past, and effortlessly threw me against the wall. I sat up, coughed, and then got onto my feet. When I tried another charge, it had the same results as before: I was thrown against the wall, but this time I coughed up some blood.
The demon cackled hysterically. “I told you before that you couldn’t beat me! There is nothing in this world that can stand up to the power of a demon!”
I began to despair. Was there really nothing that I could do? Then, my eye caught a flash of something: sunlight. The window shades had been drawn in class, and the fluorescent lights had shined on us. Now, even the lights were off.
A final plan came into my mind. I glanced over at the demon-boy, and saw that he was baring his fangs. If my plan didn’t work, the demon would kill me.
“Prepare to die, human!” the demon screeched, and leapt and me. As quickly as I could, I ran towards the window and pulled the cord.
The demon’s teeth had begun to sink into my left shoulder, when I felt them suddenly recede. A slow hissing sound emitted from behind me. I fell to the floor, clutching at my heavily bleeding shoulder, and turned around.
The sunlight had struck the demon full in the face. He seemed to be steaming, his skin slowly turning red. For a moment, he seemed to regain his footing and looked at me with malignant eyes. Then, he looked again at the sunlight and was gone.
Slowly, painfully, I stood up, still holding my bleeding shoulder. I had lived to see the sun. It seemed brighter than it had ever been before; just for me.