Devil Incarnate (On Hiatus)

Chapter 1

                Darkness. That was all I ever saw between the time that I laid my head down to sleep and the time that my alarm screams in my ear to wake me up for early-morning worship. I've never really had much to dream about, I guess. My life is pretty boring, being the pastor's daughter doesn't really have many perks. My dad is the pastor at the local church here in our neighborhood. Living in this neighborhood also didn't have many perks, considering its startlingly high crime rates.

I rolled myself out of bed and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I have yet to figure out why my bonnet always manages to slip off my head at night and cause me to wake up with this rat's nest on my head. Looks like my hair is going into a bun. Again. I walk into the bathroom dreading the thought of seeing my dad this morning.

My dad is not only the local pastor, he's also a Grade-A jerk. He's been on my ass more often since I started high school. He should consider himself lucky that he has a daughter like me and not like Connie Meagle. Connie is one of my classmates who knows just about everyone and always ends at every party, hang-out, and function because she has nothing better to do. Actually, I take that back because she has a lot of things to do: all of the guys in school.

My train of thought gets interrupted by my dad yelling my name from downstairs: "MARIE!!!"

My dad has a tendency to always act like I'm making him late, but we actually have over an hour before worship starts.

"Yeah, dad?" I yell down, not actually listening to his reply because it is always along the lines of "You're gonna ruin my reputation if we're late blah blah. If I'm late even once, then I'm supporting the stereotype that black people are always late blah blah blah."

Man, what is it with parents and always thinking that it is the perfect time for a lecture?

Anyways, I brush my teeth, get dressed, and hustle downstairs because my dad will try to fit in yet another lecture on the way to church if he doesn't think I'm trying to hurry.

Breakfast is the same as always: pancakes and orange juice. Pancakes are the only breakfast that my dad knows how to make so since Mama died, we had pancakes every morning. Pancakes used to remind me of my mom because my dad would make them on special occasions for her, but the feeling has faded over the years of associating all of the arguments and squabbles between me and my dad with them.

By the time I'm finished eating, he has already put on his shoes and socks. From then on, it is a quiet walk to church.

~ 

            I go to the local high school, which is a 5-minute walk from the church. I've always hated this school, even before I started going here because there is so much going on all at the same time. Shauna and Tiara are pregnant, Malcolm broke his arm and the football team lost, the volleyball team got caught with drugs in the locker room, and Connie is still always somehow entangled into every story I hear. I honestly think that she might have a clone, because I can barely keep up with the gossip, how can she keep up with being everywhere that anything interesting happens?

As I make my way to my locker, I run into Connie.

"Hey Marie, how was your weekend? Do anything fun? Oh wait, you were probably stuck at that old church with your pedo pastor of a father." She says, turning to her friends as they all erupt in laughter.

I walk around them and get to my locker. They really aren't even worth acknowledging. I've tried to talk to them but it is like talking to four miniskirt-wearing walls. I should focus on getting to my first class of the day, psychology.

Psychology is my favorite class and it is taught by the greatest teacher the world has ever known, Mrs. Larson. She brings the entire subject to life and she always makes sure to make sure we are all always understanding the content. If I could fail this class and retake it without ruining my GPA, I would.

As I walk in I shoot her a smile and sit down and I bury my head in a book, waiting for the bell to ring and class to start. When the bell rings, she stands up and addresses the class.

"Good morning, class! We seem to be a little ahead of our schedule for the term, so I decided to take today and use it as an opportunity for you all to ask me questions about anything class-related, whether we have covered it or not."

The room grows so quiet I could almost hear a cricket chirping. Of course nobody wants to do class work when it doesn't work towards our grade. I avoided her eyes in fear that she would call me out because I had a million questions circling in my head, but I wasn't going to ask them in front of the whole class.

Finally, she takes pity on us and says, "I'm going to choose a topic."

Everyone in the room audibly groaned, thinking she probably had some super boring topic that would put them all to sleep. I knew her better than that. She wouldn't bring up a boring topic when we were already discouraged from paying attention. I was excited about what she was about to teach.

She brought a website on the projector about witchcraft and its presence in literature. She started off by saying "We've all watched a movie or read a book or heard a story that had something to do with magic. But living in New Orleans has given us the advantage of actually getting to live the magic firsthand."

"But magic isn't real!" yelled someone from the back of the classroom.

"Anything is as real to you as you want it to be. Some people don't believe in God or religion but there are also some people who dedicate their lives to God. Some people don't believe in owning material things and live life as minimalists, while others try to find happiness through owning newer and bigger and better things. You may not believe that magic is real but some people do and I don't appreciate you putting down the beliefs of others."

Damn, well put Mrs. Larson!

"I've decided that since we are so far ahead, we will go on a field trip next week."

Everyone in the class cheered, even a boring psychology field trip is better than staying cooped up in this classroom.

"We are going to do a voodoo walking tour!" she said excitedly. "I'll print out permissions slips and hand them out tomorrow and let you all know the rest of the details. But for now, let's get back to the topic at hand."

After this exciting news, the class seemed more upbeat and they looked like they actually might be paying attention. I was excited to see my coursework be applied and go on a fun field trip but I knew my dad would not approve. I guess I'll have to see what he says when I give him the permission slip.

~