My Demon
I'm tired. I just wanted this thought out of my head.
No, I still didn't proofread and I'm not going to.
You remembered getting the call from Johnny, his quivering voice telling you what happened. Mary hit a pothole while driving their motorcycle and was flung off the bike, landing headfirst on the cement and cracking their skull open. Doctors said his death was instant.
You collapsed in your kitchen, letting out a loud cry. You had been close to Mary for the past few years, both of you growing close in shared interests and finding comfort in one another. The punk had always made you feel safe, even if their appearance had been a little scary at first. Still, he was the first person you went to for anything. Something shitty happened? Mary was there to comfort you and try to take your mind off of things. Something good happened in your life? Mary was the first person you told. Even whenever you saw a stupid meme, Mary would be the first person you would send it to regardless of what time it was.
Without him, you felt lost. You went to the funeral, biting your tongue when you saw Mary's mother crying her crocodile tears. She stood by his casket, dressed up in a black dress that looked more like it was meant for formal parties than it did a goddamn funeral. She stroked his hair for a bit, dabbed away her tears and muttered something. Mary's father showed little to no emotion, standing beside his wife and holding her. You wait until they walked away from the casket, spending your time in DD's arms and sobbing into his chest. You felt his body tremble against yours, his own face buried in your shoulder as he cried with you.
Mary was dressed in a nice suit. You knew they would've loathed wearing this while alive. Even in his death, his parents couldn't let him be free. You stood by their casket, gently stroking their face. You tried to stop crying, you really did. You knew Mary would've hated seeing you like this. But you couldn't help it. Your best friend was gone, and even weeks before their 35th birthday. You two had planned to go out to the country, far away from the city. Far away from all the noise and the lights. All they wanted to do was see the stars. It was their favorite thing.
You bent down, gently pressing your lips to their forehead, croaking out how much you would miss them. You slipped off one of your rings, tucking it into their suit pocket, that way a part of you was always with them, and you told them that they had been your everything. Every morning you woke up, you were always greeted with a text from them. And every night before bed, Mary would be the last person you would message saying goodnight to. Even during his shift, he would text you back within minutes, wishing you sweet dreams. You would miss those texts.
You sat in the back with the rest of the band. It's not that you four didn't want to be involved. Had it only been you guys, you all would've swarmed the casket, paying your respects and saying your goodbyes until it was time to go to the cemetery. But with his family here, you four had given them their space. You told Johnny it was out of respect but really, you guys had been making plans. You all agreed to give Mary the burial they deserved. Away from the cramped plot his parents picked out half-assed and somewhere they would've loved.
The forest. You all came to an agreement. There was a clearing Mary loved to go to where the trees circled around, breaking way for the sky to show. They would be underneath the stars like they loved, surrounded by the quiet and peaceful forest. You'd all dig up the new grave after Mary was buried, and you'd return to the cemetery later that night to retrieve his casket.
You didn't expect it to hurt when they lowered Mary's body into the casket and shut the lid. Another round of sobs tore through you, muffled by your hand. You stayed strong as you and the rest of the band helped lift their casket into the hearse, disgusted as his parents stood by and watched. And when you got to the cemetery, you tried your best to stay strong as their casket was lowered into the grave. You ignored their family for most of it. His mother stopped crying the second the service was over, her tears having magically dried up as she walked hand-in-hand with her husband back to their car. At least Johnny had the decency to come over and talk to you and the rest of Repugnant. Even if Mary's life was shitty, their older brother had always been the only decent member of their family.
He thanked you all for joining, gave his condolences and even told everyone that if they needed anything, his phone was always on. Before he left, he slipped you the key to Mary's apartment and softly begged you to get everything out. Mary's sketchbooks, paintings, books, guitar, anything. The family was going to raid their apartment tomorrow evening in search of things to sell or get rid of. You felt nauseated but happily agreed.
With the help of the others, you all tore into Mary's apartment, having grabbed boxes upon boxes from the warehouse at your job. Candles, brushes, paints, clothes, whatever you could grab, it went into a box. You all took something. No one fought for anything. You grabbed the spell books Mary wrote in, and G. had pushed some of the sketchbooks into your hands with a small smile. “Mary would've wanted you to have it.” You only realized what he meant after you opened the sketchbook when you got home. While there were sketches of the normal scenery and bandmates practicing, most of the pages were of you. You remembered these moments. Mary would occasionally scribble something down in their sketchbook that they kept tucked away in their jacket before nonchalantly continuing conversation. You had to blink back more tears.
By the time the sun set, all of Mary's valuables had been packed up into boxes and agreed on who would take what. Everything was loaded onto the moving truck you had rented. By the time everything had been dropped off and the new grave was dug, it was time to go get Mary.
The new burial went by in a blur and you fought to keep your emotions in check. The spot that had been picked was better. No one came to the clearing, Mary's grave was all on his own, and the moon passed overtop, illuminating the disturbed earth. You all said your goodbyes, picked up your things and went back home.
You unpacked the boxes from Mary's apartment, finding a spot for everything. Every now and then you would break down, sobbing for a bit before pulling yourself together. You'd do this periodically, memories of Mary flooding your thoughts and your emotions getting the better of you. You'd been good at hiding yourself every time you would let the floodgates open, finding an isolated spot every time you would feel your eyes water up and your breathing would get heavy. Though, there was one day where your manager had sent you home, having spotted you softly crying when you thought you were alone in the break room. You had softly thanked her and went home, scrolling through the old conversation between you and Mary for the millionth time.
A month after their death you got curious. You grabbed one of the spell books that sat upon your bookshelf and you flipped through the countless pages. Necromancy, hexes, protection spells, herbs that they had practiced with. But you stopped on one page. A sticky note was stuck to the page, detailing about summoning a demon. Oh, Mary. You could only imagine what was going through their head.
Fuck it. You weren't even sure you believed in it, but what did you have to lose? There were countless pages in this book that spoke about banishing demons. If you fucked up, you could just follow one of those and forget this night ever happened. So you gathered up your things, put down your protection barrier and stood in the middle of it as you recited the words scribbled down on the page.
Your blood ran cold when the demon appeared before you. A singular wing had unfurled behind its back, the ends torn. Rigid horns curled around towards their face, pointed high and sharp. But you're not able to get a good look at the demon before they start to change. Red eyes turn a mossy green, and that red skin turns a pale white. The black devil's lock makes your eyes tear up, your body shaking. He's standing before you looking just how you remember him, aside from the horns, wing and tail.
“Mary...?”
