Dance With the Devil

October 3, 2009
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Beauty? Not what I've got the most experience with. I've encountered true beauty only once in my life. Just once. It's not that she was the only beautiful girl I'd ever seen, don't get me wrong, I'd seen plenty. She was just the only one that ever meant anything to me.


Because, she saved me.

From what?

Losing myself, to myself.

Did I love her?


Did she love me?


So what's wrong?

She's dead.

Sold herself to the Devil, made him force me to love myself, to be happy. Yeah, right. The most truly beautiful girl I'd ever seen, gone, because of me, and it's physically possible for me to be happy? I don't believe it for a minute. How can I be happy? All I can see at night is her angelic face, smile finally torn, staring me down.

In my dreams I see her. Beautiful chocolate hair strewn all down her back, big hazel eyes, the size of the moon, shimmering like skylights, and a short, yet strong, body frame. There, in all her glory, lying on the floor of my room, dead.

I know what he, the Devil, is doing with her. He's dancing with her, waving her, like a glimmering trophy, in front of God's face. Surely they'd argued over who would one day gain possession of her soul, I wouldn't believe that she wasn't highly valued in the other world for a minute.

She was definitely a girl any existing god would gladly have added to their people count. Why? Because I already told you, she's beautiful. It wasn't just her face either, in fact, although beautiful, that was the least of her shine.

It was her willpower that stood out above all. Her strength of mind, the way she never wavered, never backed down, never lost confidence. At first, it makes a person want to slap the girl silly, but then you get to know her. You get to know the reasoning, the fight, the eccentricities, the expectations, everything.
She was the most quirky little girl I'd ever met. By “little”, I of course mean short. She was only a minuscule two years younger then I, fifteen to be exact.

So, how was she “quirky”, exactly? Well, she was interested in black magic, religion, anything considered “outlandish” by society, occult, and anything else other worldly. That's not even the most shocking part.

She was nice.

Nothing got to her head. She'd do all of this research about everything, without letting anything wrong or immoral seep into her brain. Truly an amazing feat. She wasn't paranoid, she'd never feared death, and she didn't hate everyone... Just most people, but they'd brought that on their selves. Always shunning her away, turning her down, never giving her the gift of acceptance, and why? Because everyone knew she'd gotten herself in way over her head, with everything. So, instead of deciding upon trying to help heal her of her mental illnesses, people ignored her. What did that do?

Push her further and further into her solitary shell, hidden from the world, locked in the deep depths of her own mind.

Until I broke her lock.

And how did I meet her to break said lock?

In Juvenile Hall.

I'd assaulted my mother (Don't think you'll say any shames or curses I haven't already heard a million times over, I get it already), and she'd vandalized a church. What a chipper and righteous pair, correct?

You're starting to back away from me in your mind now, right? Curse me from afar and send me to Oblivion? How dare I call this girl, this girl who didn't see the problem with defiling God's territory, beautiful?

Because she was.

Because she was open minded, and she was confident that God understood why she did what she did,

“He understands, and you never will, so I'm not explaining,”

By “He”, she meant God. The girl believed in God, without doubt, and so she could do anything, and say that God understood why it wasn't wrong of her. It would seem a sin not to envy this girls mind, so centered, so hard to knock down.

As fate dictated, the two of us were scheduled on the same release date.

At first Vivi, that was her name, wasn't very fond of me, she couldn't stand me actually. She was, as any other girl of her demonic interest should've been, very selective about her companions.

I promised Vivi I wouldn't speak of how I forced her into tolerating me. I wouldn't speak of it even had I not promised her otherwise. Never. I learned from Vivi never to regret your actions (Not unless you'd been possessed while performing the deed), but it was hard not to regret this one.

Soon after doing the deed I wish I could regret, Vivi began to feel something slightly more then toleration towards me. Something she'd certainly never admit to.


But her love, her tacked on smiles and her pretty face, they didn't last much longer. Soon, all that would remain of her would be her soul, existing only in a universe I may never reach.

Satan's personal realm. Personal realm, not Hell. It was an unfathomable amount of times worse then Hell. No doubt, Satan found her interesting enough to keep lying around with him. Wouldn't want spunky little Vivi causing a rebellion in Hell now, would he?

Vivi, as amazing as she was, had been unable to pull me from my feelings of inferiority to the human race. In fact, she worsened them. Thanks to those feelings of mine, she was able to do what she'd always wanted to do. Affiliate herself with the Devil, get a link to an alien world.

The headstrong, unbreakable, way in over her pretty little head, girl, got her wish.

A dance with the Devil, a chance to meet God, and a way to stand out.

So, why is she beautiful again? Because, aside from bring the most awe inspiring beautiful thing I can think of, mentally and physically, she's the only thing on my mind right now.

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