to hell and back.

I wake up to the sound of loud, fast pounding that reminds me of a hammer on a wall. The sound practically shakes me awake.

My eyes flicker open to be greeted with a warm, pink glow of light that glistens in from the window, blanketing the dust in the air, creating an atmosphere of comforting stillness. It makes me want to fall right back asleep, but the banging noise isn't stopping. My hands find their way out from underneath the comforter, helping me push up into a sitting position.

I rub my eyes, then toss my sleepy legs over the bed and stand. I immediately get dizzy and plop back down.

The pounding continues. I'm still quite disoriented from waking up so fast, but I can tell that the incessant noises are coming from my door. I walk (waddle, if you will) over to the room's door and peer into the little peephole in the center. On the other side, I see the tall, white, lean figure of Angel Dust.

I groan, remembering the dinner I was supposed to go to with the demons. I almost open the door - then look down and realize that I'm naked. (It's a thing with me. I always have to sleep naked. Clothes are too confining.) I frantically look around for earlier's dress, the one I wore to the interview, but I see it nowhere. My eyes then land on a white towel folded on a silver in the bathroom, causing a breath of relief to escape my lips.

I scramble to tie the towel over my bare chest as Angel continues to bang on the door. Jesus, is he really knocking? I think. It sounds like he's beating the door down with a chair. When I'm finally covered, I hurry to click the door's locks open and peak my head out.

"Could you be any louder with your damn knocking?" I spit at him. I nearly through an insult in too, but then decide that would be unnecessarily rude.

"Could you have been any fucking slower answering the door?" he snaps back. "Do you sleep in a garbage can or something? Because you look like fucking trash. Didn't you know that I was coming?"

I sigh sharply. No, you greasy, shit-faced, hairy beast. The sleep is still crusty in my eyes, and my hair is still a tangled rat's bed on my unwashed scalp. "I wasn't ready for you to come so soon," I say through gritted teeth. "Do we have to go now?"

"Well, I could spare you a couple minutes to clean up. I'd probably shoot myself if I went anywhere in public with you right now."

"Fantastic," I say, rolling my eyes. I let the door swing open, taking a step back so that he can come in. He steps inside and takes a seat on top of the bed that I haven't slept in yet. The blankets are still tucked into the underside of the mattress. I like to sleep on the bed closer to the window; the light from outside is strangely calming, even at night.

I walk into the bathroom and flick the switch on. Yellow, dim light washes over me like a tub of honey. Looking at myself in the mirror, I realize that this lighting is very flattering on me.

Something on the counter catches my eye. A plain brown box, tied together neatly with a red ribbon on top. I pick it up, examine it, then give it a shake.

"Angel, do you know what this is?" I ask, stepping out of the bathroom to show him the box. He's laying on this stomach now with his chin in his palms, elbows squishing down into the bed. His eyebrows narrow, then raise.

"No, open it! I wanna see what's inside," he says, grinning.

"Okay," I say slowly, unsure what to make of this. I untie the ribbon, letting it fall to the ground in a silky heap. I cautiously unfold the box and look inside.

A black hairbrush. Underneath that, a card and a pack of gum.

I take the brush and gum out and set them aside. The card is next. I pick it up. The exterior is soft, burgundy velvet. My favorite color. On the inside, black letters are written in thin, flawless cursive. They read: