One Way Ticket from Hell

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  • Published: 14 Apr 2018
  • Updated: 17 May 2018
  • Status: Complete
My live has always been a hell – and, I’m not exaggerating, I don’t have any teenage-crisis. I mean, Hell, literary. I live on the suburbs, you know, a dim and gloomy place called the Valley of Destruction, and my mom is a demon specialised in tempting our dear neighbours from above – from Earth. She’s really good at it – there are many of diplomas and statues for The Demon of the Year and even some for The Demon of Century. She has even a mug with bright red letter saying “A one-way trip to Hell”. But, if it comes to tempting humans, I must say I’m the best prove she’s good.
My name is Abandon – yes, after this Abandon, mum’s a real fan of him – I’m sixteen years old and I’m a half-demon.

Entered in the monster story marathon, category: a love story.


5. My first human friend

For the rest of the day I’ve gotten stuck with Rachel, Susan and Peter, not because I really like them, but because it’s easy – it looks like Rachel is the one who talks, and she expects us only to nod and listen. Maybe it seems that I’m quite lazy, but in fact, it’s a good strategy – I learn a lot, but I don’t have to answer all that awkward questions, because Rachel accepts my ‘a-boy-from-little-village’ story and does not question me any further.

What I learn is that a human school works just like one from Hell. There are groups of the popular, the smart, the average and the freaks. I quite expected to be in the freaks group, but I’m not. Thanks to Rachel. She belongs to both the popular and the smart; she’s attractive and confident, she’s one of the best students at the school, plus she has wealthy parents. She’s just the kind of person you need around yourself if you need someone who takes all the attention and leaves nothing for you.

And just as I expected, I managed to make a fool of myself even before the break for cafeteria. It was a history lesson, and the teacher asked me what I knew about the World War 2. You remember the trip to Abyss I mentioned earlier? So everything I know about the war is that Hitler is locked at the deepest ward, where the procedures of security are so tight we could only watch him on a monitor, and only for a few seconds. But, of course, I couldn’t tell that to the teacher. He then asked me when the war started, and I had no idea. Hell exists beyond time.

Now I have the last class, and it’s art. There are easels and canvas, and lots of brushes and paints, and everybody is supposed to paint whatever comes to their mind. The teacher, an elderly lady in big glasses, walks up and down the aisles, nods her head and offers encouraging comments.

“You know, the form is not so important. It just has to be expressive,” Rachel says. She moves the brush on her canvas in a delicate but firm manner and smiles at the results. She paints a sunrise. “You should visit me sometimes. My mom’s an artist. She sells her paintings abroad, mostly in France.”

“Great,” I nod my head. I paint the creation of the world – you know, the light appearing just from a black emptiness, the rare planets and still dry seas. I haven’t seen it happening, but one of my uncles has. We, demons – maybe I should have mentioned it earlier – we are immortal.

“Oh, Lucas, it looks great!” the teacher gasps behind my back. I flinch; I haven’t realised she’s there. “Look at the colour, the depth of it! Finish it, and we’ll hang it at the corridor, what you say?”

“It’s Louis, Mrs Adams,” Rachel corrects her, but the elderly lady does not notice. She walks forward, not waiting for my response.

I kind of feel proud. I like painting, but down there, in Hell, it can bring you only contempt. Once my uncle saw me drawing, and he told my mom something like There’s something wrong with your son. You should have him examined. Of course, he though I didn’t hear him. But I did.

“You know, Louis,” Rachel smiles at me. She has a beautiful smile, the kind of smile that makes you do everything she asks. I don’t ever realise when I smile back at her. “Maybe you could eat dinner with me today? I’ve already promised all the teachers I’ll help you to catch up with the class, so why not to start now?”

Susan and Peter look at her expectantly, as if waiting to be invited too, but she comes back to her painting. She doesn’t even looks for my response, as if it was obvious that I would agree. There’s something fascinating about her, I must admit. If somebody introduced her to me as a demon, I would believe.

So, when the bell rings, I leave the classroom with Rachel, and we go to the parking from where her chauffeur  will pick us up. Rachel claims she can invite over her  friends whenever she wants to, and that my presence at the dinner won’t be any problem. I have really nothing else to do, beside I think I like her. So I decide to text my dad from her car to tell him I’ll come back in the evening.

We are waiting, when suddenly I see my dad’s minivan entering the parking. I’m surprised; I was supposed to go home my bus, because Laura and Amanda finished their lessons two hours earlier than me.

“It’s your father?” Rachel asks when he stops the car just in front of us.

“I have no idea what he’s doing here,” I mutter. Another thing that is common for both human and hellish schools – being picked up by parents is lame.

My dad motions at me to get into the car, and looking at his face I can tell something’s wrong. I open the passenger’s door.

“I though I was to come home by myself,” I mutter and nod discreetly at Rachel. “She invited me for dinner.”

“You’re not going. We are in for a serious talk, young man,” he frowns at me.

I roll my eyes. I just can’t help it. Maybe it’s my reaction to the ‘young man’, I don’t know. When I hear it, I feel like I’m allergic to it.

“She helps me with school,” I add in a whisper. “I won’t do my homework myself. Maths is crazy!”

“Get in the car,” is my only response.

“But dad!” I hiss angrily.

“The car. Now,” He repeats and I get even more angry, cause Rachel will for sure think I’m a fool. I look around at her. She watches me, pretending to ignore what’s happening.

“Louis, your eyes!” my dad whispers.

I look at the side mirror – my irises are angry red. I blink, taken aback, and they come back to their normal, unnatural shade of blue.

My devil, I hope Rachel hasn’t noticed.

“I’m sorry, I have to go home,” I tell, not looking at her. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you,” she waves at me.

            A few minutes later we leave the main street. The car’s engine is humming, and it’s the only sound that can be heard. I glance at my dad, but his eyes are focused on the way before us. Maybe that’s good, after all. We leave the city centre behind, and suddenly he stops at a parking by a supermarket.

I’m about to get out of the car, but he stops me.

“I thought you promised me something, Louise,” he says finally. His voice is cold and serious, and even if I don’t know him much, I know there’s something wrong.

“What exactly?” I ask. I cross my arms across my shoulders. “You wanted me to go to the damn school, and I did. And I tried to make friends. Just as you wanted.”

“And there’s nothing else you can think about?” he asks in somehow suggestive manner. “You told you didn’t come here to harm my family.”

At first, I have no idea what he is talking about, but then something comes to my mind. The make-up kit.

“And I haven’t done nothing wrong,” I tell, looking away.

“You taught Amanda to steal!” he grasps my arm and makes me look at him. “You spent one evening with her, and look what you’ve done!”

“So why couldn’t you just buy her the stupid cosmetics?” I bark angrily. “You’re a doctor, I though you can afford it!”

“It’s not about money, it’s about rules, Louis,” he explains. He takes a deep breath to calm down, and it irritates me even more. I’m used to arguments, shouting and yelling, and then not talking to one another for a few days. It’s how my mom and I solve problems in Hell. But now I feel uneasy, maybe because some part of me knows that my dad is right.

“I trusted you, Louis. It was only one evening,” he repeats slowly. I look away, through the window. “Amanda is still only a child. And she’s so happy about having a big brother, she would do everything you say. Don’t use it to your advantage.”

“But what’s the big deal? It’s a huge store, no one will ever notice!” I shrug my shoulder, and he pulls my arm again.

“Louis, I need you to tell me the truth. Did they send you here to practice your demonic tricks on us?”

“No! I’ve already told you why I’m here!”

“All right, if you say so,” he sighs and lets go of my hand. “The thing is, Amanda looks up to you. You’ve come here for a few weeks, but you can affect her for her whole life. She’s your sister, Louis. And you’re responsible for what you teach her.”

I sigh heavily. I know he’s right, and I hate it. As if my life couldn’t be more complicated! If my mom had seen me yesterday evening, she would have said ‘good job’ and ‘well played, my little devil’. And it would be nice to hear, because she doesn’t say it often.

The sad truth is, if you have one human parent and one demonic, you’ll never please them both. You’ll always have to choose.

And I'm not sure if I want to have such a choice.

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