The Demon Inheritance

TWO

Saturday morning began at 4 a.m, when the dark rainbow of blurred colors clouded the rising sun. The flushed hues of pink, violet, gray, and blue wrinkled in the sky, and the last few remaining stars, fractions of a vanishing constellation, winked at me from above. I barely remembered waking up; I'd just found myself looking outside, bedroom window down, wrapping my bed sheets around my body. I was gowned in a thin fabric, so a chill still made its way to my skin where my sheets couldn't cover. By my window was my mother's garden, where she had successfully grown arrays of plants: an apple tree, avocados, lettuce, tomatoes, strawberries, broccoli... Beyond my mother's garden was our driveway, and beside that, a thin creek that barely trickled sideways through our yard before gradually opening up to, what was houses away, a river. A web of roads disturbed the beauty of nature. I inhaled the scent of the night, and, as always, the fading night smelled like mist, air, and freedom.

It was the greatest kind of scent.

I squeezed purple earbuds into my ears, turned my mp3 on, and heard Metallica begin to play in my ears. The song was "Nothing Else Matters", which had its own special place in my heart. The melody, the power... It all struck an emotional patch inside of me. How could it not? It was the best band ever, anyways.

I think Metallica was the only band I had on my mp3 player.

Hours passed, and I lost reality in the music. Before long, golden threads of fresh sunlight shimmered across the plants in the garden, and liquid gold flowed in the miniature creek, parted only by rocks. The blurred rainbow faded away, and the scents of daytime replaced the flawless ones of night. Into my nostrils flowed heat, water, and spring.

Not too much time passed after I realized the sun was completely in view and levitating on the horizon, the smell of eggs tickled my nose. I paused my music, took the earbuds out, and tracked the sizzling sound of breakfast back to the kitchen. Mom was hunched over the stove, cracking eggs on the counter and plopping them into her favorite pan. Bacon was beginning to heat up beside them, and some biscuits were in the oven. I usually made breakfast for the family, but that wasn't why I was concerned.

With the amount of food she was making, she must have been ready to feed several families. Pancake batter was sitting to the side, and waffles were being toasted.

"Hey, Mom," I greeted from the doorway to the kitchen. "What's with all the food?"

My mother turned to smile at me. A lot of people said we looked alike, but my mother, I felt, was a lot more beautiful than me. When she wasn't being butchered in my sleep, that was. Our hair was similar with our stubborn, blond curls. However, my mother's silken hair was cut short and it was peppered with brown instead of being pure blonde. Mine was crisp and golden. To top that, her eyes were a delicate shade of green, and mine were pure black orbs in a soggy ocean of white. Our body shapes were similar, but I had smaller breasts and waist, which I was actually thankful for. "You don't want to eat this morning, Em?" Amusement flicked into her seaweed eyes.

"Yeah, but there's so much food here..." I walked over to a metal chair sitting beside the refrigerator and took a seat. "Is something special happening today? You trying to feed the whole block?"

My mother dipped her head and began to work with the bacon. "As you know, a new family has moved into Millton. They are not only new here, and they are our neighbors. They were spending the week in a hotel before moving into a house." She flipped the bacon. "You may know their boy. He's around your age. Goes to Millton High School, just like you."

"Oliver," I suspected. There was a nervous twinge in my stomach. Please, if she wants me to make friends with this kid, kill me.

Mother dipped her head again. "Oliver has two fathers, mind you. I'm not sure how you feel about that, but of all things, be polite. I expect no less of you, Emma."