'I'm A Perfect Devil' (LDL)

2. Lurking Devils

     I can imagine his poor soul absolutely sobbing over my disappearance. Father might even claim that I've been kidnapped by English pirates. Now that would surely be a great story to tell.

     The risk of losing whatever money he has left just to search for me is too great in his mind. So why not convince a random man to wed me?

     One thing I know for sure is that he will never control me again.

     Mama was spared from that horrible life in a cruel way. Too bad I wasn't killed alongside her. Would have saved me the years of trouble that flew my way. As I grew older thoughts of self-harm and suicide crossed my mind, but there had been no bravery to act upon my urges.

     The powerful ache embedded inside my left shoulder has turned into a hard throb. Goosebumps have flared over my exposed skin. The dried blood and dirty water from the alley made my skin all crackly in places. I must look and smell like a mess.

     Every time I open my eyes I am met with thick darkness. All there is to do now is make a wish for death to take me away and to the depths of hell because that is where I belong for my actions.

      If these men hadn't taken me and placed me in the absurd box I could be with my mother now. Me and Mama could be sitting in the middle of a lovely field far away from the plantations sipping sweet tea, in heaven.

     Her red curls would blow in cool winds. It would cause me so much pain to sit alongside her and not be able to express why Papa was no longer the man we once loved. That is my personal hell, letting him get away with everything he has done.

I might not be the cause of his demise but I sure will be the greatest witness to it.

     The short amount of breath that rests in my lungs soon flew out when a door slammed open.

      Girly giggles fill the room and a man's laughter followed after. As if they had just come back from a party. Rich folk are buzzards that feed upon the money from all the poor in the streets.

"Oh my, such a lovely little home you have." A young woman expressed childishly.

     Her deep voice catches me off guard. I clamp my hand tightly over my lips when something slams onto the top of this box. The harsh noise echoed all throughout this wooden prison. The very top even trembled from the force.

     I feel my face become wetter by the second with a fresh flow of salty tears. The shakes go down my legs. I wrap my arms around myself as much as I can to contain these quakes. The movements cause my shoulder immense pain.

     "Careful now lady, this was such a costly table. I couldn't bare to have it damaged." I recognize that captivating voice. It is Lestat who has the company of two women. I can hear another hum rather roughly. The first woman just kept on laughing.

     "Ah, but would you care to make love to me on this table then?" The first woman has a rasp to her French tone.

     All Lestat does is laugh at her ridiculous idea. Of course, I don't understand what the hell that even means. Something different from what Papa would ask the young maids I'm certain of that.

   "Now now, come my darling, let us take a drink of this strong wine I acquired from a man from far off the shores." He teases them both making giggles erupt.

     This is pure torture. Having to listen to them all drink and have a little party of their own while I practically rot inside this thing makes me even sicker to the stomach.

     What is the purpose of my being here? They could have left me alone to die.

     "What is the meaning of this Lestat?" Louis walks in from another side of the room. From another door perhaps, I'm not sure where. I didn't even hear another set of footsteps make their way.