I held the satin smooth paper of the receipt in my free hand and plastic bags full of groceries in the other. The faintest sprinkling of rain dotted the paper and caused the ink to bleed blue. I didn’t bother pulling up my hood; Oregonian weather forced me to become waterproof. I remember this as I step in a murky puddle I hadn’t noticed until now. My sneaker soaked up the muck like a sponge and I could feel the cold wetness start to touch my toes. I suck in a breath and continue walking, internally chastising myself for not paying attention.
I liked order and normality, which was why today is a bad day. My eyes flicked from the receipt to the pavement in front of me. The flimsy slip of paper records the weekly list of groceries that I have to help mom buy from the store. If I don’t do it after school, it might never be done. It’s not like my mom was lazy, she just works too hard and ends up exhausted in the afternoons. I’m beginning to feel her pain.

eggs, milk, toilet paper, napkins, cereal, hot cocoa packets . . .

The groceries we would get were pretty typical, except for one thing on the list. At the very bottom, the item I wondered most about before selecting was a cat collar. When I read the messy cursive that was Mom’s handwriting, I ended up spending several minutes in the pet section of Wal-mart, fussing over the few cat collars available. In the end, I bought the cheapest one. It was practically a blue belt, made of the same material that lunch boxes were made out of.
The incentive to get home became more urgent the more I thought about the collar. I walked down eleventh and wondered what my mom was up to today of all days.

~~~~

“A kitten?” I asked as I walked into the kitchen. I had taken off my sneakers after I came into the house, dotting mud on the indoor welcome mat. I ended up tracking mud into the house despite my vain attempt not to. Mom was lying in the armchair as if she were a sheet that someone threw onto the chair lazily.
“A cat.” She corrected me with a smile. I could see the faint signs of dark circles beneath her eyes, but other than that, she looked as lively as she did the day we both went to the faire.
“How much did it cost . . . ?” I asked as I unloaded the groceries from the plastic bags, including the cat collar. I had no clue about how much any pet would cost, but I figured it was a lot. Maintaining the cat would be something else too.
Mom merely waved her hand in dismissal. “Eh, doesn’t matter.” She raised her head to look at me. “No price tags, Marcie. It’s your birthday.”
I frowned. Mom already murmured a quick, ‘Happy Birthday’ to me in the morning before she went to work and slipped a piece of cake in my lunch. It seemed like she was reminding me all day that I was turning sixteen.
“You didn’t have to get me anything.” I pressed, sliding the milk carton into its snug spot in the fridge before shutting the fridge door softly. “You know I’m fine without anything.”
Her light hearted demeanor faded quickly as she frowned at me. “Well, I got you something anyway. ‘Thanks Mom’, right? Or do you not like cats?”
I paused. “Sorry,” I approached my mother and leaned over her, brushing back her dark hair and planting a featherlight kiss on her forehead. “I really do like it. Thanks Mom.”
“That’s what I thought.” She grumbled, feigning annoyance as she rose from the couch. With a sigh, she headed towards her bedroom to tend to her second job.
In turn, I finished putting away the groceries and dealt with my soggy sneakers. Once I put the worn out shoes in the garage, I wandered down the hall and to my bedroom. After thanking my Mom, I thought she would give me more details on the cat, like where it was. I thought it might be in my room somehow, or maybe she hasn’t actually gotten the cat yet.
I pushed open my bedroom door and ambled in, letting the door fall shut behind me. Then I pulled off the hair-tie from the many on my wrist and dipped my head, commencing in my usual ritual of tying up my hair before doing anything in my room. My bangs hung over my eyes like dark curtains while I worked on gathering most of my hair. When I finished, I split my ponytail in half and pulled the halves apart to tighten the hair-tie, then raised my head to see something very unusual.
Standing in front of me was a dark, tall and skinny figure. I thought it might be my imagination or the effects of tired eyes, so I brushed my bangs back and tucked them behind my ears, though it didn’t make a difference. The figure could have been mistaken for a coat hanger, but it was smoking and its head nearly touched the ceiling. It had gray skin, boney shoulders and a boney face. Long boney fingers and the prominent ridges of its rib cage seemed to stick out like knives. The creature was holding something of mine, a jacket I had left on the floor in the morning before school. I grew tense as I realised that this thing wasn’t going to disappear. Dark smoke rose like tossed satin from its shoulders and pooled onto the floor before fading away. It had slits for eyes, and I was able to see the other side of my green bedroom wall through them. The creature had two, long horns or ears poking out from the back of its head. Upon seeing the long, thin extension of its spine that should be called a tail, I guessed that it had ears atop its head.
Suddenly its eyes narrowed as its face split into a wide, crooked smile and it seemed to offer my jacket to me. “YOU drOppEd thIs.” It spoke like it had a velvety voice, but its strangely pitched voice scraped my ears like gravel.
I screamed.
Mom came running into my room moments later. “What? What is it Marcie?” She asked as she followed my gaze.
“Th-that!” I pointed at the creature wildly, and it narrowed its slits for eyes at me.
Mom was silent as her gaze followed where I pointed. I thought she might be blind when she stared at my bedroom wall and floor, seeming to see through the creature. Concerned, she gazed at me seriously. “I don’t see anything. Was it a spider?”
The creature seemed to purr as it draped my jacket on the back of my chair, like I always would.
“N-no . . .” I stammered. I felt like my head was swimming as I questioned my sanity. Was what I was seeing real? Was it a figment of my imagination?
“Are you alright, Marcie?” Mom asked with her brow knit.
I pulled my gaze away from the creature, who was now smugly settled on the edge of my bed, and swallowed the dryness in my throat. “Yeah . . . I’m fine . . .”
“What did you see?” She asked and set her hand on my shoulder, rubbing gentle circles into my skin with her thumb.
“Nothing,” I mustered a quiet laugh. “I was just messing.”
She pursed her lips, then stepped away from me and back to her doorway. “You know I don’t have time for that. I thought you got hurt.”
I didn’t want her to leave me alone with the creature, but I considered the fact that this creature might not even exist. “Sorry.” I muttered.
With that, she closed her door softly behind her and I was left alone with the creature.
“dIdn’t YOUr mOthEr tEAch YOU AnY mAnnErs?” I heard it hiss, and I stood up straight with probably the best posture I’ve had in years. The creature was just a few feet away from me, and seemed amused by my reaction. I wasn’t sure how hallucinations worked, but I doubted they could come up with conversations.
I glanced away from the creature and wandered closer to my chair. I opened up the old laptop on my desk, muttering under my breath. “I’m not crazy… I’m not crazy…”
“hEllO?” The damned thing snapped its bony fingers, demanding my attention. “OvEr hErE. I’m tAlkIng tO YOU.”
I glanced at the creature, feeling something inside myself snap. “Shut up..!” I glared at the creature, quietly seething. “You’re not real, so shush!” I hoped that that would discourage it, but it only continued existing.
“Oh, I knOw.” It seemed to grumble, folding its sickly thin hands in its lap.
“Why don’t you just disappear?” I was reasoning with a figment of my imagination on my sixteenth birthday.
“I’m nOt EnjOYIng thIs AnY mOrE thAn YOU ArE.”
“Just leave me alone.”
“nO.” It said simply.
I furrowed my brow and lost myself to frustration. I sat myself in my wooden chair in front of my desk and turned on my laptop. The old scrap of technology coughed and wheezed itself to life when I pressed down the on-button, whose indicative paint was worn away from constant use. Fuming, I waited patiently with pursed lips.
“whAt ArE YOU dOIng nOw?” It asked and I ignored it.
When the laptop was well and ready as it would ever be, I opened firefox and started searching information about hallucinations. All the while, the creature was very quiet--aside from the constant, quiet sizzling and hissing of smoke rolling down its shoulders. I found information about particular visual hallucinations, auditory hallucinations and combinations of the two, but the closest I could come up with from wikipedia was something like schizophrenia--but even that didn’t seem to fit with the creature I was seeing. I looked up hypnagogic hallucinations, peduncular hallucinosis, delirium tremens, symptoms and causes from multiple sources but it didn’t make any sense. I wasn’t sleep deprived, I wasn’t exactly stressed and I definitely wasn’t doing any drugs or taking any medication periodically. I glared at the laptop screen after closing firefox without results. I wanted results. I wanted an answer to the insanity that had manifested in my room, I wanted to find a way to get rid of it.
“mArcIE.”
I turned around to face it, between anger, fear and shock. “Oh god…” I whispered. It twitched uncomfortably at that, then narrowed its slits for eyes at me.
“What are you?” I asked it.
There was a long pause. We were both silent, as I was at a loss, and the creature seemed bothered by something. Eventually, the creature lifted its head slightly and a wide, knife-like smile spread across its face crookedly. “mOst mOrtAls cAll mE sAtAn, lUcIfEr, thE dEvIl. YOU cAn cAll mE sIth.” Somehow the introduction seemed more dramatic and theatric than it should have been.
Baffled, I stared at the bony hand it offered to me. What could I have said? Nice to meet you? I ended up saying nothing at all.
Sith sighed dark smoke, then drew back its hand. “YOU’rE tOO EAsIlY dIstrActEd.”
What was it talking about?
I watched in horror as the creature began to grow paler and shrink, reaching more normal human proportions. It grew dark hair on its head, and its face began to shift and crack and form the angular face of a man. Dark circles hung under his golden, cat-like eyes, and a piercing revealed itself on the curve of his brow. Shaggy, midnight hair hung like a thin curtain just above his eyes and locks stuck out as if they haven’t been brushed. His cheekbones were sharp like knives, making up for the lack of cheeks to begin with. He wore a black shirt, black leather trench coat with belted straps on the shoulders, black skinny jeans and black knee high boots, messily laced. With deathly pale skin, dark rimmed eyes and piercings, his appearance screamed emo.
“lEts trY thIs AgAIn.” Sith sighed, then offered me his ghostly white hand.
I stared at his hand for a long moment. Feeling too curious to refuse, I reached out to take his hand and cautiously shake it, treating it with the same apprehensiveness I would treat a grenade. His skin seemed to grip mine like silly putty, but was solid and real. The touch of his hand was a confusing sensation that left my skin tingling once he let go. There was a long moment of silence as he stared at me expectantly, and I stared back at him, rubbing my hand sensitively. Sith opened his mouth to speak, but I interrupted him.
“. . . So . . . you’re trying to tell me that you’re Satan . . .”
“. . . YEs.”
“. . . and that you’re not a figment of my imagination?”
“I dId nOt sAY thAt.”
“. . . so you’re just in my head?”
“I’m In whOEvEr’s hEAd I sO dEsIrE tO bE In.”
“. . . s-so . . .” I stammered, feeling like I was about to shatter into pieces. So I’m crazy? I wanted to ask, to ask Satan himself right here before me.
“. . . what do you want?” I demanded, willing my voice to be firm.
Sith took a moment to glance around my room at the objects, and then at me. His stare made me feel cold inside. “nOthIng.”
“What?” I spluttered. In all the stories I’ve heard, the Devil always wanted something from someone, that’s where the deals came in. “Then why are you here . . . ?”
His cat-like pupils constricted, turning into thin slits. It made him look either alarmed or irritated. Regardless, the rest of his features gave nothing away. In entirety, he looked bored more than anything. “fOr rEAsOns I wIll nOt dIsclOsE.” He said simply.
I stared at him. It didn’t seem like he wanted to be here, and I didn’t know why. I wasn’t sure if he was actually the Devil, but he was definitely not just in my head, he was something real. I just might be one of the few people that can actually see him, but why me?
Nervously, I asked. “You’re not going to do anything to me . . . are you?”
For a moment, he looked betrayed. In the next moment, he resumed his seemingly usual irritated expression and arched his brow, the pierced one. “whY shOUld I AnswEr AnY Of YOUr qUEstIOns?”
“So I can understand what’s going on . . .” It was obvious to me.
He laughed, and the sound cut my ears. “whAt gIvEs YOU thE rIght tO hAvE AnYthIng YOU dEsIrE? jUst bEcAUsE YOU sAY sO?” He smiled at me, and it was crooked.
I frowned. “Because I worked for it, and I can’t work for it now. I tried to look it up and do it on my own but there’s no way I can find out anything about you on the internet, I’m not even sure what you are.”
“If YOU wErE lIstEnIng . . .” He stood up, and I realised just how tall he was. He wasn’t as abnormally tall as he was earlier, but he was still surprisingly tall for a man and I was forced to tilt my head up to look at him. “. . .YOU wOUld knOw thAt I’m thE dEvIl.”
I was unable to tear my gaze away from him, and I didn’t want to either. I felt like he was a snake, coiling up and preparing to bite. If I looked away, I felt like he was about to strike.
“bUt I sUppOsE thAt rElIEvIng YOU sOmE strEss wOUld nOt bE A wAstE Of mY tImE.” He said, lightheartedly tilting his head with a shrug before leaning back. I thought he would fall back onto my bed, but he only seemed to fall back on some nonexistent cushions as he crossed his arms behind his head. He was levitating, I realised. Casually levitating as if he were resting on a sun chair, and drifted towards the corner of my room.
“hErE ArE thE rUlEs. fIrst,” He listed off. “nOnE OthEr thAn YOU wIll sEE mE UndEr nOrmAl cIrcUmstAncEs.”
I got up off of my chair and turned it around so that I could sit down while watching him. It became a chore to ensure that I wouldn’t expose my back to Sith, but I didn’t feel like ignoring the gnawing fear I felt whenever I lost sight of him, and possibly, his intentions.
“sEcOnd, I wIll rEmAIn wIthIn YOUr prEsEncE fOr As lOng As I sEE fIt.”
I paused at that. “Why?”
“bEcAUsE I sAId sO.” He said flatly.
“But why me? Why not just some other person down the street?”
“bElIEvE mE,” He sounded calm, yet there was a bite to his words. “I dOn’t lIkE thIs AnYmOrE thAn YOU dO.”
“Are you being punished or something?” He didn’t answer, so I let my imagination go wild. “What did you do wrong? What can you even do at all, other than levitate and masquerade? Are you a demon, or are you actually the Devil? Did God punish you?”
He hissed at the last comment, and I shut myself up. The smoke that flowed endlessly from his shoulders seemed to hint his mood better than his face did, as it looked less like smoke and more like knives now. The wisps of smoke curved and arched in swift, cutting motions as they crawled from his dark shoulders and eventually made their way to my bedroom floor, where they faded away. The movement of the smoke reminded me greatly of an angry cat’s tail, thumping aggressively on the floor.
“hErE I Am,” He growled. “trYIng tO AnswEr YOUr pOIntlEss qUEstIOns --- And YOU rEfUsE tO lIstEn tO mE, InstEAd YOU Ask mOrE And mOrE.”
“It’s because you’re being too vague.” I paused, then wondered if my Mom could hear me talking to him. Considering that she hasn’t come to check on me, I assumed she hadn’t heard a word. That led me to question Sith’s capabilities even more.
“fInE.” He muttered, shifting to sit upright whilst in the air. He seemed to favor crossing his arms, and continued such by crossing his arms in front of himself rather than behind his head. His gaze was on me now, rather than the ceiling.
“I Am mOst dEfInItElY sAtAn, I hAvE IndEEd bEEn pUnIshEd, It hAs nOthIng tO dO wIth hIm And I Am cApAblE Of mUch, mUch mOrE thAn YOU thInk.” He watched me venomously without blinking, effectively causing me to lose my nerve once more.
But at this point, I was pretty sure that I would have been dead long ago if he wanted to kill me. “So you’re not just sticking around for as long as you want. You’re doing this for as long as someone else wants. But if you’re Satan . . .” I reasoned with myself aloud. “. . . then who in the world would be able to make you do anything that you don’t want to do . . . ?”
“hUsh.”
“Oh? Is it embarrassing? Did it hurt your pride?” I pressed.
“I sAId, hUsh. lIstEn tO mE.” He narrowed his cat-like eyes at me. “I hAvEn’t fInIshEd spEAkIng AbOUt thE rUlEs.”
“. . . these aren’t rules that I have to follow, right?” I couldn’t help but be cautious about his every word.
“YOU wIll nOt trY tO ExpOsE mE tO AnYOnE ElsE UnlEss I gIvE YOU pErmIssIOn.”
“Or what?” I challenged.
“Or I wIll hAvE tO kIll thEm.” He said simply, as if murder was not a problem.
I frowned.
“fOUrth, I wIll nOt hArm YOU In AnY wAY.” He continued, and I felt relieved at this. Whoever ordered Sith to be here with me didn’t want me to get hurt. Either they’re full of justice or they’re incredibly twisted. I must have been chosen for some reason or another though.
“fIfth, thE OnlY rElAtIOnshIp thAt wIll bE EstAblIshEd mAY bE frIEndshIp, nOthIng mOrE.”
I felt my eye twitch as he watched me expressionlessly. “Why in the world would anyone think of even being friends with the Devil?” I questioned, then paused. “Nevermind . . . there’s some lunatics out there . . .” I muttered.
Sith only continued to stare at me silently, and suddenly I felt see-through. If souls existed, was he looking at mine right now? “What?” I asked self consciously. “Did I hurt your feelings?”
“whAt fEElIngs?” He asked blankly.
“. . . Right . . .Were those all the rules?”
“All fIvE. thE lEss ImpOrtAnt OnEs gO bY prActIcAl hUmAn rEAsOnIng.”
“. . . Okay.” I said, and afterwards silence followed. I spent the calm moment to race through my thoughts. How would I manage this during school? How would I concentrate? How would I be able to pretend that he wasn’t around in front of my mom? Why me? Why me? Why me?
Suddenly, he broke the silence. “YOU hAndlEd thIs fAIrlY wEll.”
I wasn’t sure if he was complimenting me or not. “Yeah . . .?”
“bEttEr thAn I ExpEctEd.” He murmured and seemed to be lost in thought.