a bit of fiction...

Here is a short story I wrote in 1994.

Enjoy...

THE DEVIL

I am afraid now. I’ve never been afraid before. The devil has made me afraid.

I made false dreams with the devil. I lied to myself to make them. I didn’t want to be alone. To make a pack with the devil was easier than being alone. Alone I am alone, isolated. With the devil there was comfort.

I saw the world through his eyes. I hated people. Their faces distorted. They looked at me as if I were insane. They couldn’t look me in the eye. They knew I was with the devil. The devil took my power.

He took my power to be kind. To see the joy and community people naturally have. I only saw what would never be because I made a pact with Him. I hated everybody. I stayed with the devil. I was alone with him because he wouldn’t let me go. He knew if I came into contact with others, they would show me his wickedness.

Hell was a difficult place to live. I would tip toe around trying not to disturb him. If I did, if anything was asked of the devil, the abuse would start. “I am selfish, I only think of myself, I want too much.” A mirror was held up in front of me each day. In this mirror I saw everything I hated about myself, “You talk about a life you want to live but you don’t live that life.” the devil would say. The devil called me a hypocrite. I am not a hypocrite. He would pretend to stick a knife in my back. He would watch me die in his minds eye. It gave him pleasure.

It was hard to make love to the devil. It was fucking. The harnesses would be there, separating, making it distant, making it rape. There was no communication. The devil hated to kiss. It was too intimate. That was okay, the devil tasted sour.

The devil always cried. Crying was for him. I wasn’t allowed to cry. The devil would wake from his dreams and wail for hours.

One would think the devil would prefer to be alone but even the devil gets lonely. The devil, cloaked with kindness, finds his victims. He appears an ordinary man, part of the community, normal, average, nice. It takes awhile to see through the veil and then it is too late. You are in his world so far below, crying for help internally. I was possessed.

One day I wanted to leave hell. He told me if I left I could not come back. This scared me. Hell was all I had known for so long, I didn’t know where I would go. We talked. I left. I came back. I slept alone.

I woke up tired of crying, tired of dying. I told the devil I was getting out. I had made friends. I was breaking away and feeling strong. The devil was angry but sad. The devil doesn’t want to be alone. It isn’t easy finding new victims.

I manipulated the devil. I said, “I’m leaving but I will come back and visit. We will still be together.” The devil had lost some of his power. He was afraid of being alone. There would be no one there to hear his cries, to give him his power, he so desperately needed.

I thought I was strong enough now to beat the devil. I am a fool.

I moved to a place high above the city so I could see far away. I wanted to be able to dream again. The devil had taken my dreams, my hopes. He had taken away my love of music and books.

I began to feel at peace but then he would call. I didn’t answer. He’d call again and the siren sounded for hours, ringing in my ears. I tried to ignore it but I couldn’t. It didn’t stop. He didn’t stop. I answered his call, noise, noise, noise...I tried not to hear. I didn’t want to listen. Torture. I hung up. I heard the wailing from miles away. The wind carried it to my ears. It melted my heart. I could not stand the pain anymore. Could I beat the devil? Am I as evil as the devil thinks? I am dishonest and I have no integrity. I never wanted to hurt anybody, not even the devil. I am a coward. I have shut down.

I am afraid of love. Is love the devil? Is love that insincere and vile beast who offers you a little, then when you are thirsty and need more, it is ripped away? And you stand there alone, unfulfilled with the taste still in your mouth, yearning.

THE END