Witches and demons

Witches are never born witches, it’s a choice. It’s not what they tell you in children’s stories … They don’t fly on brooms or have talking cats and they don’t have large pimples on their green noses and there are no good witches. The scariest thing is that they look like us and live normally between us and we see them around everyday.

The hair saloon I go to has female workers who are witches. They make sacrifices with chickens that they put in a sink every week, they put special food for their spirits on a little chair in the corner and use sticks of “Bakhour” it’s some kind of smoke that they use to summon spirits for they believe that they bless their jobs and give them success.

I know twins who work in a mall near my house, they look exactly the same and they’re both blind too. One of them sells pastries that he makes and he puts different potions in every kind. There’s the love me pastry, the hate her, the good marriage donuts, the cupcake of destruction.

Normal people think that they’re random names but they’re not. Nothing is random in this world and everything has a plan, a purpose and intentions … This scares me because you never know what those intentions are.

The second twin is an artist. He draws talismans, hidden sigils and Arabian letters in his paintings that form a demon’s name. Special orders for special customers and the more special the order is the more expensive it becomes. It’s all wicked spells and he hides them in the portrait’s eyes mostly whether it’s a hawk or a woman. Each symbol has a meaning and a job to do and he is a an artist on demand. The women love him, his women are loyal to him for they have never ending jealousy.

Old ladies that seem weak and friendly are in their houses with jars, pots and a room to invite them in. A cupboard filled with torn pages of religious books, black animals parts and blood. They just need pictures to do their jobs whether to break up a holy marriage or to put lust in someone’s heart towards the person who pays the money for the job and they call this a love potion. In the old times they needed a whole hair pulled out from the root to harm someone but now it’s all easy that they can just take a picture from Facebook. Women come and go with lots of money to spend.

Those fortune tellers you see … They have their demons around them and they talk to your demon to know what they want to know about you. Then they go to the sky and try to eavesdrop to know about your future until they get hit by lightening.

Most of those humans you see … They did ugly nasty things. They have to do a prayer for Satan before they start. They killed, they went to dig up corpses from their graves to stuff things into their throats. They pee on holy books and drink blood to please the devil. They performed black magic on other people and misguided them into the path of sins.

Each demon has a specific task to do, there’s a demon for divorce, a demon for lust, a demon to spread hatred, a demon who whispers in the ear of a man to seduce him to do terrible things … They all report back to Lucifer. Divorce is what pleases him the most.

There are kings, ministers, soldiers and servants; just like us. They live in ruins, in the bottom of seas, between things like on the staircases and near the doors. They love contradictions so they build castles on top of where the salty water meets the sweet or on where the warm water meets the cold, between shades and light. Some of them live in houses too, they’re called Ammar.

You know what scares me most? It’s that the demonic spirits think highly of themselves, they won’t do you a favour unless you do one for them first. This leaves me in wonder … What is it that they want a human to do for them? How far did these people go to get what they want?

You know why planes and ships disappear in Bermuda’s triangle? You don’t need me to tell you who lives there.
You’ve never felt their presence? You’ve never felt that someone is watching you?
You may not know any of witches or demons but I can tell you for sure that lots of them know you very well.

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Yes, it is me.

I got used to the darkness and I have made friends with my demons. I accepted the monsters who are inside of me instead of fighting them. Yes, I feel good about giving up. The light now hurts my eyes and I am too busy curing my headaches to dull the pain. Yet, I want to feel something, even if it is anger and loathing …

I’m dead rotting down here with false expectations and hope that is forever lost. I have lost the will to live and to be better. My fears blossom inside of me like flowers and I think they are beautiful. My kind sadness became my inspiration, I’m lucky that he visits me from time to time. I begun to appreciate my nightmares, for they give me better stories. My days though … They are all the same; pale, old, dusty and people are the wind.

My mind is filled with traps, dungeons and old castles with secret rooms and cold prisons. My thoughts are easily disturbed like the surface of the water, therefore I appreciate the screaming silence. I don’t want to be saved for there is nothing to be saved. I am the ruins; it is all black, burnt down, broken and abandoned. When you look in my eyes, you’ll see nothing for there is nothing inside, nothing good.

I’d rather stick needles in my heart than to feel neglect or attention. Poison runs in my veins instead of blood and apple chunks are cutting through my throat, I shall not speak but I shall release it from its leash to let it feed and grow from time to time. Maybe I have lost my self for good but I am too numb to care. Let it be, what is the worst thing that can happen?

Black and white picture

I still have a black and white picture … It is clearer this way, I get to see his true face and kiss those wrinkles; caused by his overdosed smiles. His true face … I can see it in his soul through those charming eyes.
He looked at me, and with one look he elicited my soul out so forcibly as if he called it forth and it obeyed … I felt like a lab rat, he was testing his control on me.

The best reason to hate him is that he made me smile once. His smile, on the other hand, is innocent and the most deceiving.
I remember the first time we had a connection … Our souls bonded and we had access to each other’s thoughts. We come from different tribes he and I, I come from the “Qatala”; the most deadliest and cruelest creatures. He is what you call a common, but he is unique.

We can never be together, we are different like water and fire. He is the symbol of Love and I am the symbol of Hate and chaos will fall on us like rain if the two mix. He has special powers of forcing his love into the coldest and he kills with kindness which I think is pathetic. His purity teases me, I hate the way he treats me, it makes me weak.
I see him sometimes, I avoid looking in those eyes, they have their way to make me feel like a human again and I resent it.

I am sure that he saw the darkness in my eyes and now sees me as one of his charity works … That light in your light soul has no cure for my black spirit. I see him sometimes doing the “Gaith” dance; it brings fortune to the poor ones, I see him juggling planets like they’re nothing too. I see him painting souls with feelings and it was disgusting, I see him riding the “Mumit” for fun; Mumit is a beast that can tear you in parts with one move. I also see him bringing life with a snap of a finger; bringing memories into thin air for people to see, and when I see him I see myself in chains too.

Sometimes I see him as an amusement; a clown. Sometimes I feel that he has my heart in his bare hands and it bleeds when he closes his fist; a master. I am the child of the desert and the sea and I shall return into dust when the sun rises from the west. My end, however, feels nearer when I see the threat in the heart of that child like man. I hope he never becomes my enemy, for he has great power on me. I hope he never becomes my lover, for he is such a distraction. I hope he stays nothing, that worthless half human.