The School Life of The Other Demon

The Manor

Demetria's P.O.V.:

"So," I say, looking at Father's angry, concentrated expression. "What are you thinking about?"

"If I were to kill someone with their consent," Jason asks. "Would that still be considered murder?"

"Why would you need to know?" Father asks, snapping out of his concentrated state.

"Precisely, Todd," Damian says. "If you were to kill someone with consent, it won't be as fun."

"So we're just skipping the fact that Jason has murder on his mind?" Tim says, looking at the rest of the group. "No one? Okay."

"Um," Dick says. "No? But I don't recommend it."

"You also don't recommend jumping off a sixty story building," Jason says, rolling his eyes.

"You jumped without any type of protection or plan!" he yells. "Of course, I wouldn't recommend it!"

"But I'm still alive," Jason points out.

"You're just a living corpse, Jason," Tim says. "I wouldn't say that you're actually alive."

"Says the kid going high off of coffee, getting little to no sleep for weeks," he retorts. "If anything, you're the one step closer to death than I am."

"Says the guy who's actually been dead," he retorts.

"Hey!" Jason yells, pointing his finger at Tim. "You're just jealous."

"Yeah. Because I'm totally jealous of you losing your life at the prime age of fifteen," he says, rolling his eyes.

"At least I have done something exciting," he argues.

"At least I've lived through all of my exciting adventures."

"At least I've had adventures that no one has ever done before!"

"At least—"

"I'm jumping out," I say, reaching over to the car door and rolling down the window. "That'll be my adventure."

"No!" they all yell, pulling me back into the car. They slam me back onto the car seat, rolling the window back up.

"Are you crazy?!" Jason exclaims. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?!"

"If it means escaping the insufferable screeches escaping your mouth, then yes, yes I am," I tell him. With that, I attempt to go towards the car door, only to be pulled by Jason.

"Nope," he says, wrapping his arm around my torso and putting me on his lap. "You're not going anywhere."

I begin to thrash around. "Let me go, Jason!" I whine.

"If I let you go," he says. "You might end up going to hell again."

"It's more fun down there than having to hear you and Tim argue," I growl. "At least hell doesn't make me lose brain cells."

"Shh," he says, caressing my hair. "You're going delusional. We're not fighting or arguing, we're just having a nice conversation."

"My sister isn't an idiot," Damian scoffs.

"Shh," he repeats, moving his hand to pat Damian's head. "She doesn't need to know."

I tilt my head up, glaring at Jason. "I may be ten, but I'm not an idiot."

"I never said you were," he replies, defensively.

"I'm not even having the conversation with you," Tim says. "But listening to you speak actually makes you lose brain cells." Tim begins to rub his forehead, "I feel my IQ getting lower."