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I know the Devil

I know the Devil

Author: surreal ink
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Chapter 1 The reason why the word monster was created

Word Count: 2210    |    Released on: 11/07/2022

ol

the devil looks like... To b

res and blatantly told us the grotesque figure with sh

he elites and a hell for the not so lucky) I'd called Bethany, the weird brunette who had been my lab partner for two years and have an endless supply of mucus on

ad prompted my earlier rooted belief that okay maybe the devil was indeed h

total discrepancy. I can't remember where I have

made the "satan" in me get thrilled at the thought of

was eager to see if his tainted garment would make h

made a great deal of sense if he was the one that told us the devil was Angel Luci

tany the blonde with fake extensions, well, was one since she had posted that un

that always kept to himself but somehow was at the popular's table. Everybody wanted to figure him out, the

t mean figuratively, I mean

m is in Senior year w

evil with grey eyes that turn pit

ason why the word

hide, but I can

e, outside I can

Eilish

igh school, almost like it was yesterday. How elated mom had

r once had given me a little smile. He didn't get into an argument wi

buy me a beautiful backpack and a new pair of sandals. We had chicken wings for dinner, later that da

d believed them. It was hard not to when you

us was a big deal. It was not every day, that a child from a ghetto-l

e best thing that had happened to me brought a trail of other horrid h

he alarm clock that I had forgotten to change its ba

y, I was lat

ked about their weekend escapades which involved Paris and an insanely amount of money used to buy something as petty as a purse or lipstick while

room with Mom until Rob had gone to prison like we all knew he would someday.

of Drake was still on the wall and his headphones were at the same spot where he had kept the damn thin

big city as he had vehemently promised. He had harboured such a big bag of dreams and I never had the heart to tell him how horrible his voice w

drinking, and the women. And my highly spirited brothe

erty-ridden neighbourhood we lived in that reeked of every crime vices possib

attending his coronation in prison and had

ly not been changed because of sentimental attachment

the little cramped space was my long pile of bo

eart to take down Rob's and put mine up on the rack. It seemed

time to make breakfast, so I would be going without, again. Mom

I knew better than asking. All I could do was sigh and think all night if she tol

get past the high walls and gate because although I abhorred it and would have found a way to g

h as I put my black hair into a bun so it

ook trips to Milan and Dubai wore clothes with price tags that makes me go to the washroom a

zing at the almost empty toothpas

t needed to be bought, another

n which when I was little, I liked to imagine eating from a glass of medium cooked grilled steak and sipp

ollow ache in my heart where that thought had stemmed from. Mama

the one who didn't have money

if not for I was book smart. Because most of our ideologies

rcastically, hoping that just maybe if I say i

o be doing was wasting water unnecessarily even though I couldn't help but fascinate about having a dip in a bat

eople from my neighbourhood don't dream about bathtubs and long baths, they thought of h

, as I tried to stay as unnoticed as possible. One of the first rules and most important rules of being a bottom feeder especially if you wish to stick around longer in Evans high school is to make sure you don't attract attention. It was an insult on its own to remind the highly placed beings that animals like myself still exist among them and there was nothing they could do about that. It

ten words in my locker with tags like charity case, smelling pig, scum and other interesting choices of words I've gotten used to after crying in the bathroom when I'd first got here for a whole year, now I looked forwar

ainst the wall for starters and I've not "incidentally' created a dent on my locker with my head. Maybe this mo

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