~DEOMI~

Awakening is always the hardest part- tugging the inches of your being back into existence. Demanding your limbs to feel again and shake off their stupor. Accommodating to your age as if you were a weary traveler who returned home from war, only to find everything is as it was- except some things. The subtle things you don’t notice right away. Like, how your arms are longer. Your spine curves a little in the middle. You had bad posture before so now your back creaks when you stretch. There are more scratches than when you left and there’s a bruise under your right eye. Your skin is darker, subtly, but you can tell the difference. You can always tell the difference. Like how your shoes don’t quite fit right because you were walking on different parts of your feet and your nail beds are bitten down to the quick. Time has made a home in your bones and you age, gracelessly, like a newborn calf shoved brutally into the world. 

You exist. But then you don’t. Pulled in and out again and again until the skin you wear is nothing but a sleeve to shrug on and then off. 

This is what sharing a body is like. 

This is how it feels to have nothing but your thoughts and the whispers behind them to call your own. And, oh how those whispers sung…

  I watch her the way a predator watches its prey. I watch her run her hands up and down the skin of my arms and gnaw wheat between her chapped lips. I feel the way her heart pounds for the girl next to her, her chest rising and falling as if she only existed for the moments she was beside her sister- warm, safe, and whole. I watched her. I always watched. What else was there for me to do but count every bloody second? Every footstep she took, every startled slip that tumbled her down a hill and caused me to rise and claim what was mine?

It hadn’t always been like this- the waiting and the praying. Once, I had been my own. My fingers had flexed at my will and when I wanted to move, my legs had taken me to my desired destination. Once, my body hadn’t been my cage. 

I had always been their demon, the specter that haunted the halls and hidden in the shadows hungry for release. I couldn’t imagine the fear of every pace taken with my lingering not a step behind.

I frightened her. As I should. She was a guest who had outstayed her welcome, after all. She was a figment of a desired reality when in actuality I was, and always would, be. So, go ahead. Ask. Ask who it is I share this body with- this pathogen burrowed underneath my skin who controlled my limbs like a twisted puppeteer. 

Her name is Jarah, and she thinks this is her story.

~JARAH~

Water, my first coherent thought when my head breaks the surface and I take my first ragged breath of oxygen. They're going to drown me. 

Water burns my nose, ears ringing- muffled- before my head is forced down again and water surrounds me on all sides. I fight to stay the invasion, but my vision is blurred and mixing with fresh tears and I try not to scream, but I'm scared. The bag over my head scratches my cheeks, my forehead knocks against the bottom of the barrel, and I'm swimming in cloth and darkness and the rancid barrel water of a dungeon. Spots grow behind my eyes and panic balls inside my chest like a living thing. My thrashing slows. I inhale water. I’m drowning- they’re killing me.

I'm yanked upwards and my head breaks the surface once again, coughs racking my body as I struggle for air, before they slam me back down.

Please.

I thrash, banging my head against the wood.

It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault I’m like this.

They pull me up long enough to get a solid gasp of air before slamming me back under, holding me down for minutes to seconds. By the time they drop me limp on the stone floor, I barely register my release. A burlap sack is my world of darkness even as I fight to blink the grit from my eyes. 

The guards can't see my swollen bruised face. I'm not real to them and I hate how their hate makes me question if I even am. 

My sister is crying silently on the floor next to me. I know it's her because she's the only child that is allowed in the dungeon- to watch. The attaching chain at our ankles reminds me why this has happened, and why it will always happen. She learned to cry for us silently ages ago, but some stubborn foolish part of me still struggles with languishing silently. 

The bag is yanked off and the flickering torch light blinds me briefly before my eyes focus on my father standing before me with disapproval.

“Is the demon gone?” He tugs my chin to examine my eyes. In this light he is a mile high with a shadow creeping up the back stonewall bent over us. He is broad shouldered, armored, and terrifying with cold gray eyes that match my own-now. I yearn to look away- to break this eviscerating inspection- but his strong fingers hold me firm.

Weary and sore, I still try for him, thrusting bony fingers into my recesses to present him with words but thankfully Jamie speaks for us both, 

“It’s okay father, It’s gone. I’m here. It's gone.”

The clouds part when he looks down upon her and for a second the god of thunder leaves us, before he drops me. I crash to the floor and the injustice chills my flesh.

“Stay with your sister next time, Jarah…You’re too dangerous to keep making the same mistake. When she can stand, take her to your room, Jamie.” He turns away from us, “How many did she kill?” he murmurs to the guard nearest him as he breezes up the steps. 

“Five, your majesty. It was difficult bringing her here, but we were able to stall-” 

I stop listening. I don’t care. The guards trail obediently behind my father and leave the dungeon with a slam, carrying their conversation with them. I stay there shivering on the floor, chained to my sister, and fighting to stay conscious- alert. But deep within me I feel it, the demon, churning and tumbling inside of me. I feel its power, a bottomless lake, and her hunger. The tiniest movement will spring her free and she will consume me without a second thought.

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I hate you, my vehemence turns inward and my fingers twine with Jamie's, tenting our hands in silent prayer. She is my savior. But that will never be wholly true. Somehow the demon inside that watches and waits and I, are the same, and this thought keeps me awake at night.

“Shh,” Jamie pulls me closer to her, my teeth chattering so much I could bite my own tongue off.

This disastrous turn of events was partly Jamie’s fault as well as my own, though my father was loath to admit it. Where I had wandered away from my twin, she had also wandered away from me. We were supposed to protect each other but somehow I had slipped- or someone had, and now I was suffering for it, again.

I pull away from her, sick to my stomach.

“I’m sorry,” Jamie sniffles.

Most people don't know what it feels like to be haunted, but I'm a ghost. Hollowed from the inside out, moving and breathing and hating every second of it.

Jamie helps me to my feet and we shuffle down the hall to our room. She's small, not much bigger than I, but we both know no one will help her. No one will touch me. I’m the dark stain of death and these walls are my cage, not my sanctuary.

Once to our room, she lays me down on our bed and pulls me to her, folding me into the curve of her body and hugging me from behind. I want to sleep but I know I won’t- I'm still hiccuping and it's much too loud for her to fall asleep. So, we both lay in silence, watching the cobwebs in the rafters drift in the breeze. In the summer, Ames is sweltering, but the night rains cool the burning soil down and bring a chill that makes the fire crackling in the corner necessary. The soft patter of rain against the stone walls of the castle cocoon us in an envelope of secrecy and I venture to voice my thoughts aloud.

“Sometimes,” I whisper, “I wonder what our lives would be if I wasn’t the daughter of the king. Would it be better or worse, do you think?” Jamie smoothes a hand down my coiled braids and shushes me. We both know I take comfort in her touch. If she is close to me I'm safe- we are all safe. 

“Do you feel her, Jamie?” I continue when she withdraws a fraction, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to relax my breathing. I try to suppress a hic and it forms a tight ball of pain in my throat. “Do you feel her?”

I feel her nod behind me, bumping the back of my head with her chin. “Always, like a dull hum. She whispers to me. My angel always whispers the sweetest things when you’re hurting. I think…I think she yearns to heal us both.” 

“She can’t.”

“We know,” Jamie whispers, “And she’s sorry.”

I open my eyes to stare at the fire across from our bed. It flickers angrily but its heat is welcome. I'm still shivering and wet but Jamie doesn't mention it, she just tugs me closer and breathes against my hair, trying to calm herself. 

Earlier, I must have scared her. The horses from the night hunt were returning to the castle and where she had turned to walk back into the castle, my feet had remained rooted. Sweat bead the coat of my father’s prized horse and I remembered wondering what it must feel like to have a powerful creature beneath your thighs. The pounding of hooves. A chase. The wind ripping your hair and a scream of delight building in your lungs. And then, nothing. 

I wasn’t supposed to have taken those few steps away from Jamie. I realized too late but the damage was irreversible. When we weren’t close to one another, our separation freed the demon that resided in my body- her angel too, but that was never a problem. Our closeness was the only thing that kept the demon contained. 

“Five men,” I murmur against my twin’s arm, a tear sliding down my cheek. Jamie shushes me again and assures me it's not my fault but it was. The monster inside of me killed five men before I regained control.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“The chain was a good idea,” I chuckle dryly, sitting up and tugging at the metal that now connects us. A talented blacksmith welded it and glowing runes whisper spells against our skin. Unbreakable, the chain murmurs, forever, it promises.

“I’m surprised it took him this long to just chain us together. I've killed so many I suppose he's finally taken notice.” 

Jamie sits up and grabs my face causing me to wince.

“Sorry,” She frowns at my bruises. “ You cannot despair.”

“I hate our lives, I hate -” Myself.

“Shhh-”

“And I can’t fight her. She's so strong Jamie, if only you could feel how much she hates-” I pause and then begin to cry freely, “And now it's certain. You won't be able to be Endiel, with this.” I tug angrily at our chain and Jamie glances at it with sadness. 

“All that matters is that that Thing is contained.”

“Is that what Endiel thinks?” I scoff. I can’t help but be envious. Jamie’s other half, Endiel, talks to her with words. Jamie knows what Endiel feels and wants- they work together. They are far closer than my sister and I can ever be and they love each other. But my demon? All it emanates is hatred and death. I never know what it's thinking. It just watches me. I feel it’s eyes everywhere- when I wake and when I sleep. It didn't take long for me to become this silent dead thing that walks these castle halls with murmurs echoing behind her. I grew into this. I evolved into this frail creature that fear made a home inside. And why wouldn't I? I'm nothing but the cage for something evil. 

“My angel is content to stay hidden if that keeps everyone safe.” Jamie smiles, forcing me to meet her eyes. “I mean it.”

We are opposites and that is what protected us. Jamie is good. Endiel, when manifested, blesses others. She brings forth light. I am the darkness that snuffs her out and keeps her chained. If we are forced together, I'm neutralized but so is she. Everyone is safe and safety matters more to the King than if Jamie can be the angel of healing she harbors inside of herself. Safety matters more to our father than our freedom.

“I’m so sorry,” I sniff, unable to say anything else- unable to be anything else.

But how can you hate yourself when you aren’t even real?

The thought is a sledgehammer to the chest and leaves me cold and numb. The corners of my vision darken and I begin to shake, looking around the room and deep into the shadows the fire casts against the walls. “Oh Ithmek, It’s here,” I groan, pushing my palms into my eyes. Jamie grips my shoulder and like a breeze the presence recedes. I take one halting breath- then, two.

“We’re in this together.” 

I nod, still cold. The demon never speaks. I’ve spent my entire life believing it can’t. But knowing that it can only cements my belief in what is true. It hates me perhaps even more than I hate It.