The Normal Life Of The Other Demon

Light, Camera, Action

Demetria's P.O.V.:

Sleep. That seems nice. I really wish that it's something I can do right now, but I can't. Instead, I'm spending this day, fighting beasts who are trying to rip and tear my face to shreds.

"Hold still Demetria!"

"No!" I scream, squirming under their hold.

"You're overreacting! Hold still!"

"I am not overreacting! You're trying to poison me!"

"We're trying to put lipgloss on you!"

"It's poisoned!" I scream, turning my head to the side.

Today is the day of the party, and Damian and I are walking out any minute now. Father and the other boys had invited some friends to attend the gala, only for them to barge into my room, putting random things up to my face. Father had encouraged them to do whatever it takes while they responded with "we're going to get you all dolled up." I don't know what the term 'dolled up' means, but I don't like it. Right now, Kori has her arms locking mine while Crock, Lance, and Gordon loom in front of me.

Just them, a banging from the other side of the door interrupts us. "Demetria?!" I hear Damian yell. "Are you okay?!"

"Dami!" I scream. "They're trying to—" Before I could finish my sentence, Gordon places a hand over my mouth to silence me.

"Demetria!" I hear Damian yell.

"Damian," Father says, from the other side. "What are you doing? They're busy in there."

"Father! They're torturing her! She's in pain!"

"Damian," Father sighs. "They're not torturing her."

"But she was screaming! I heard her!"

I hear Father sigh once more. The doorknob begins to jiggle, soon twisting in one swift motion, revealing Father and Damian. Father stares at us with a cocked eyebrow as Damian stares into the room in bewilderment.

"Hi, Bruce," Lance says with a smile. "We're almost done."

Father stares at us. If anyone else were to see us, they would have probably called the authorities. Four women, double the size of a tiny child, gathered around her with numerous tools in their hands, totally doesn't send warnings through their heads. Note sarcasm.

"Okay," Father says, closing the door. "Make it quick ladies, we're almost up.

"Okay," they all respond.

"Father!" Damian exclaims as the door closes.

The door comes to a full close, allowing Gordon to remove her hand from my mouth. "Do I have to put that on?" I complain, looking at the strange clear tube in Lance's hand. "I'm perfectly fine with going out with just the dress."

"Putting on lipgloss won't kill you," Crock says, rolling her eyes.

"But seeing as you're the one who would like to put it on my face, I'd think it's poison," I point out. Crock and I have settled our differences not too long ago. She had come over to the manor and apologized, of course after physical and verbal combat, but we're somewhat all right now.

"Do you want me to put poison?" she asks. "Because I would gladly will."

"Okay, guys," Lance says. "Let's play nice." She looks at me and sighs, putting her hands on her hips. "What do we have to do to at least put on some lipgloss? You refused to let us do your hair, put any makeup on your face, is there anything you even want us to do with you?"