The Demon

I imagine my mind is a library.  I stand in the corner re-shelving memories, thoughts, and  other things.
She sits in the corner. In her arm chair made of obsidian. A cigarette in one hand and a drink in the other.
“They laughed at you the entire time, you know.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. You are right.  They just forgot you existed because you’re boring and pathetic.” She lunges against the air, like a caged animal.  She’s chained there for a reason.
“Stop.” She can’t be trusted.
She downs her drink and the universe refills it, immediately.
“You should let me out, you know. It could be so fun.”
“If by fun, you mean, destroying everyone around us, then no.” She can only escape on rare occasions and I have to pay the consequences for her actions for months on end.  It feels good to hide away for awhile and let her be the driver, but it never ends well.
“You’re such a prude. That’s why this happened.”
“I somehow doubt that’s accurate.” She laughs at me as I look over at her.  She throws her head back and jeers. The kind of laugh that indicates the other person thinks you are quite pathetic. With her head looking up at the labyrinth of memories, she pulls on her cigarette and sighs.  The ankle on her chain shifts on the floor, almost like a wind chime.
“You’ll slip up eventually. You’ll get frustrated and you’ll let me out again. Don’t worry, I’m patient. Then, I’ll lay waste to all those precious people you like to protect. You created me, remember?”
I lean against the shelf. I’m just trying to do the right thing and move on.
“I just want to do the right thing.” She says in a mocking voice and her smile curls up like the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland.
And a voice in the air whispers, “we’re all mad here.”

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