Damona

Angela had always seen them, things she couldn’t explain, things no one else could see. The first time she had seen one of the creatures hanging on the roof of a building, she ran to tell her mother. ‘It’s only a dream’ her mother had said. But it wasn’t a dream. Nobody believed her, they warned her heatedly to stop talking about it. ‘Such things are not for kids to talk about’ they would say. So she kept it to herself now. It didn’t matter how horrible or how kind a creature would seem, it didn’t matter what they were doing, she kept silent. They saw her, some even tried to speak to her but she could never hear them.

She called the creatures with white apparels ‘faeries’ for lack of a better word. The ones with horns and black scales for skin she called ‘damona’. For the first ten years of her life, she never understood why only her could see them, until her eleventh birthday when her ‘Maadam’ visited her in a dream.

Her Maadam was a beautiful and delicate woman with a kind, gentle smile. She always wore a white apparel. She was the one who told Angela that she was a ‘Kondra’, the one who intercedes. Maadam visited her every Saturday night without fail, always kind and willing to answer all Angela’s questions. She was the one who explained to her that a damona influences situations negatively while faeries did so positively.

She had seen them in action, watching as a damona perched on a woman who was arguing loudly on the streets until it erupted into a violent fight. She watched as the woman had bit the other until blood gushed out.

It was a bright Tuesday morning when she saw a damona hanging on the roof of her house. This could not be good. She ran inside the house, calling out her mother anxiously.

“Mama, there’s something on our roof, we must leave this house, a bad thing is about to happen.”

Mama looked at her in surprise.

“Go slowly, what’s on the roof?”

“You never believe me when I tell you anything, mama, we must all leave this house.” She was crying.

Mama slapped her across the face. “Stop all this nonsense and get to school. I’m tired of your tattle tales.” She grabbed her arms and dragged her forcibly to the car, throwing her in and slamming the door. Angela was restless in school. She knew the damona was there for a reason, she just didn’t know what.

She was in a state of anxiousness until school hours were over and the driver took her home. She ran inside the house, searching for any sign of trouble. There was none. She was perplexed. Her father came home in the evening from work, no sign of trouble there.

She felt uneasy. The damona had been there for a reason. Or had she imagined it? If only it was a Saturday, then she could ask maadam. That would have to wait she thought as she prepared for bed. It wasn’t until later that night when she heard a sound. It came again. And again.

She rushed outside her room. There, at the top of the stairs, her dad was having an argument with her mother. It was starting. She went outside through the back door of the kitchen. Sure enough, the damona was hanging on their roof. It looked at her darkly. Frightened, she went back inside. The argument was getting louder. As long as the damona was there, it would only end in violence.

“Mama, papa!” she screamed. They turned to look at her. ” Stop arguing please, please I beg you.”

“Go back to your room.” Her mother shouted harshly. They wouldn’t listen. She ran outside again, and shouted at the damona “Get away from here.”

The damona gave her a look of contempt. She picked up some stones and threw at him. The stones passed through him and landed noisily on the roof. This was not helping.

Another loud sound sent her scurrying inside just in time to see the slap that sent her mother tumbling down the stairs. She landed like a heap at the base of the stairs and lay still. Angela ran to her and held her head up, trying to stem the blood running down her nose with her hands. Still, she made no movement. Her father walked past and headed into the kitchen, barely glancing at the motionless woman on the floor.

She didn’t know how long she stayed there, it could have been hours or mere minutes but she knew the moment her mother drew her last breath, her body became cold and rigid. Still Angela did not leave her side. When at last she stood up, her mother’s face was soaked with her tears.

She walked slowly, like one in a trance into the kitchen. Her father was there, nursing a bottle of beer at the counter, staring into the night through the window at the sink.

He turned to look at her, a bleak expression on his face.

“I know you saw it. I know you saw the damona. Am the one who called it here.”

Papa didn’t give her time to ask the questions that flooded. His seeming lethargy deserted him and he sprang into action.

“I’ll answer all your questions. Just go to your room and pack a few essentials in your back pack. We have to leave before the Police gets here.”

He put his arm on her little shoulders and gently pushed her to her room. She tried not to stare at her mother’s corpse just lying there, by the staircase. Tears sprang to her eyes as she packed but she brushed them away.

Her world had just come crashing down and there was so much uncertainty. But one thing she knew for certain; her life would never be the same again.