Over the years, Zarala had come to kinda like detention. It was always nice and quiet in the detention room, with nobody around to bother her; the overseer made damn sure of that. Sure, he was a strict, overbearing asshole with a vendetta against the concept of fun, as the job description required; but then, if all you wanted to do was just sit at your desk and brood, and were caught up on homework, he more than likely wouldn't give you any grief. Zarala found herself a weird kind of grateful for that, especially on days like today: a stormy look of seething hate written all over the face that wouldn't meet any eyes, the half-demon was perfectly content to just stay right there and stew in the unfairness of it all, nurturing her grudges and psychically sending passionate rants into the silent, uncaring void, where nobody was there to listen. Why, dear God, would you ever create a monster like me?
Grappling with God and her own inner demons as such, Zarala could only be halfway aware of what was going on around her, but it was awareness enough. Her allotted brooding time was nearing its end; any moment now, her mom was going to walk on in, hand her a fresh set of clothes, and stay for a few words with the overseer while Zarala stepped out to change out of her torn old ones. Lately she'd been wearing sets that were baggy and elastic enough not to be entirely ruined when she had one of her... one of her "episodes", but there was only so much that could be done to contain that kind of transformation. At least she had something to wear to detention, shredded as it was. Much as I'm sure the school delinquents would love the show, she thought bitterly.
It took the slamming of the new clothes onto Zarala's desk to really snap her out of it. Reality came back to her in the form of a cheap pink t-shirt, a slightly off-white skirt and some panties. Zarala frowned. It wasn't at all a match for her usual dark, gothic-punk style, and seemed to be trying too hard to suggest that a red-skinned yellow-eyed demon girl with black animate hair might actually be a respectable, civilized person.
"Bathroom's unlocked. You know the drill. If you're not out in 5, we come in," came the gruff words of one Mr. Fenten, that day's overseer. "Are we clear?"
"Yes, sir," Zarala replied with as much cold venom as she could lace into two simple words, and then took the set with her into the ancient grime of the detention room's tiny, spartan bathroom. Like clockwork, Mr. Fenten then stepped out into the hall for a word with Ms. Asmodeus, just as her daughter had predicted.
"I take it you've already been told what happened?" He began.
"Yes, yes, how is she?" asked a very anxious human mother. "She's not hurt at all, is she?"
Mr. Fenten looked disgusted at the question. "She hasn't so much as scraped her knee," he said as if it were obvious. "The other kids got it much, much worse, in case you were wondering. She is a demon, Ms. Asmodeus."
"Okay, okay," the mother said in some relief, ignoring the tone. "And, how's she doing? She's behaving, yes?"
Another look. "Ms. Asmodeus," the overseer began in a tone usually reserved for lecturing students, "your daughter's behavior today has been absolutely unacceptable. If she cannot learn to control that... that temper of hers, the school will be forced to remove her. She is a very real danger to the other students, and thus the school cannot tolerate her. As her mother, I would strongly recommend you look into alternative disciplinary programs for her immediately, because unless she gets her act together, she faces expulsion from all programs. Do you understand?"
A long, deep sigh. Ms. Asmodeus' face fell even further as she replied "Only too well. But that isn't what I meant to ask, Mr. Fenten. I was asking about her now. Is she still upset?"
"See for yourself." Mr. Fenten checked his watch. "She should be out here in..."
Less than a minute hadn't yet left his lips when the door swung open, and Zarala clopped out into the hall with them. "Hey, mom," she said wearily. "Let's go home."
20 almost silent minutes later, that's where they were. Zarala felt her way to her bedroom almost by instinct, and crawled under the sheets. She wasn't tired; that was just what she did when she was feeling down and wanted to feel safe. Her mom knew that and made no protest. She just pulled up a chair and made herself comfy for the little "chat" they both knew they had to have.
"Alright," Helen broke the silence first. "Let's start from the top, honey. What happened?"
Zarala made no response except to grimace a little. Her mood wasn't much better there than it was in detention.
"Zair, I have to go back to work soon. You know I'm always on your side, darling, but I can't help you if you don't let me. Please, talk to me: what happened?"
"They were asking for it," Zarala spat out defensively.
Helen didn't seem convinced. "Zair, nobody deserves-"
"They were literally, directly asking for it, mom!" The words exploded suddenly from the half-demon's mouth, an angry scowl suddenly flashing back in Helen's direction. "They were taunting me with it, they have been for weeks, said they were just dying to see the big wings come out and the fires dance and all the works, and y'know what!? They saw it, alright!" Zarala was fuming, her eyes taking on the sort of sparkle her mom had come to recognize as an early warning.
"Zair, not here, now," Helen chastised. "Take off the shirt and things first, then you can be as angry as you like. I can't just keep buying those for you, honey."
Zarala ground her teeth in obvious fury, but somehow, managed to do as she was asked. It took a great force of will to calm herself back down, and then taking off the old clothes went quick as a flash. Soon enough she was tangled up in the sheets again, in lieu of clothes to keep her warm.
"Thank you, honey," Helen said in genuine appreciation. "You really are getting much better at that, you know!"
Zarala had no response, but didn't seem to much appreciate the compliment judging by the look on her face.
"Anyway, you say they were, literally, asking for the wings and the fires, honey? And the, uh, the rest of what happened...?"
Zarala sighed. "They knew how much trouble I'd be in if I snapped again. They knew it. So they pushed and pushed and pushed until finally, yeah, I snapped. And y'know what, in for a penny, right? With any luck they won't be trying that again!"
"Honey..." There was a certain glee to the way Zarala had said the last bit; a certain deeply cathartic rejoicing beneath the rage, that Helen couldn't help but feel mortified about. "They're just humans, dear; You could have killed them back there!"
"Y'know what, maybe I should've," Zarala snapped back without thinking. "That'd get them to shut their big, stupid mouths for good."
A pause. A long, heavy, horrified pause as that last sentence really sunk in. Helen didn't say anything; she didn't need to. In fact, it was Zarala who finally broke the silence first.
"Y'know what the worst thing is? Maybe they're right after all," she commented miserably. "Maybe I really am just some monster underneath."
"You're NOT. A MONSTER. Zarala," Helen interrupted forcefully. "You worry your mother sick sometimes, honey, but you're as much a real person as me or them or anyone. It's human to want to hurt those who've hurt you, too. But I know you know better than to think violence is ever the answer, honey."
"Right. And I did it anyway." Zarala sighed. "Not that it makes it okay, but it did feel pretty freakin' great to put those bullies in their flippin' place. Honestly, mom, maybe violence isn't the answer, but I'm tired of not having any idea what the answer actually is. Nobody else is going to do anything about them, so why shouldn't I handle things myself, my way!?"
"I would do anything in my power to help my only daughter, honey. You know that, right?"
"Yeah, well, mom, you're only human."
Another one of those long, insufferable pauses. Helen looked almost as hurt as she possibly could have been.
"Look, mom, I'm really sorry to have to say it like this, but it's true, y'know!? Moving, transferring to other schools, spending time fighting to get the teachers to do freakin' anything in support of the damned hellspawn they think I am... None of it's practical right now, right!? Not with dad gone and us two on our own! I don't think you can even really know what it's like, being a devil in this world! I know I wish I wasn't one... Maybe if I were a human I wouldn't have to deal with all those freakin' jerks, and you wouldn't have to raise as much of a freakin' awful fiend for a daughter, and everyone would be so much happier and life would be so much better and there'd be a future actually worth living out, but right now, it just isn't! Maybe I shouldn't even exist at all... Maybe..."
"Honey." At some point, Helen had somehow grabbed a box of tissues, and was holding it out for Zarala to take. The latter hadn't realized just how hard she'd started to cry as she was talking; her face was wet, the wings spread themselves wide and far behind her, and breath came to her only in shallow, fiery gasps. All in all, it was fearsome image contorted by rage and hate, that only a mother could love. "Here, take one, darling."
Zarala did. And soon enough, found herself wrapped in the embrace of a mother now much smaller than she was.
"We're going to make it through this, alright? It's going to be hard, and you're right, as much as I hate to admit it, I don't have all the answers here. But you're a strong girl, and despite what everyone else is saying, a good one, too. Look at yourself, now: was there ever a monster that cried over hurting their victims? I don't think so! You don't really want to fight, or to hurt anybody, Zair; you just feel like there's no way out, right now, when that just isn't true! There's always a way forward, honey; we just need to have a little faith, and to do our part when the time comes. Can you do that for me, honey? Can you just trust in God or me or whomever, that there is a way that we can make it out if this?"
Zarala shuddered, and nodded with a sigh, the tears slowing down and stopping for now. "I... I don't think there's much else I can do, mom." Zarala returned the hug, and shrank back down. Soon enough, the wings were gone, and she was just a normal, scared teenage girl in her mother's arms.
"Good." Helen pulled away, to look Zarala in the eye while still close, as she asked "So, no more fighting? The school's become very serious about expulsion, or those, eh, 'alternative disciplinary programs'."
"Tch, those," Zarala said in absolute, recoiling disgust. How does an educator say "prison" without using the word? "Yeah, right. No more fighting. I'll try as hard as I can to keep things under wraps until... until something else gets worked out."
"Good enough for me, honey." Helen checked the time. "Look, I have to get back to work really soon, here, darling, so that's going to have to be enough for now. Until I get back, let's think about making it up to the school and the other kids for what happened today, alright? A good, sincere apology goes a long way in cooling things down after something like that, you know!"
"I dunno how sincere it would be," Zarala sneered. "Those bullies really did deserve it."
"The school isn't going to see it that way, Zair, and while you're enrolled there we-"
"I know, I know, I'll whip something up, much as I may not like it," Zarala interrupted. "I guess I'm on my own for dinner tonight, too, by the way?"
"Sadly, yes," Helen said as she readied up to leave. "Money's on the counter, as usual. You know I love you more than anything else in the world, right, Zair?"
Zarala sighed sadly, and oddly. Helen would've stopped to investigate if she had time, but once Zarala replied -- "And I'll love you too, no matter what happens, mom," -- She had to leave.
The door clicked. She was gone, and that was that. Back to brooding for Zarala, who still felt terrible, but now more for anticipation of what she was about to do than what she had done. It's going to break her heart, Zarala thought, but it needs to be done. We can't go on like this.
Zarala took the money off the counter and added it to the rest of the stash. Meal-skipping sucked, but it was a reliable way to sweat up some money from mom without her ever suspecting much. By the money stash was a map; Zarala took it and gave it a review, more to calm her nerves than because she actually needed to learn anything from it now.
Zarala didn't know what other devils thought about faith in God and all that, having met few others since leaving the other world as a kid; but she for one thought it was either a bunch of baloney, or may as well have been. Her mom might've been content to wait for the clouds to break and hope a miracle would descend on herself and Zarala, but her daughter in contrast decided she was going to take her chances and fix things with her own Earthly hands. And the root of most of those problems, Zarala figured, was her. Her being there.
Elmtree was the closest city with an active portal to the other side, and it was only a few counties away. Honestly, she probably could have made it there on foot (and wing) if there was time and desire to, but she knew the bus system well enough that that wouldn't be necessary. The hard part would be the portal itself, and honestly Zarala wasn't entirely sure what to expect; but how hard could it really be for a magical creature to sneak her way to the homeworld? She thought.
So her mind was made up. From here on, she'd fend for herself, in a world with more creatures like her. Hopefully her mom wouldn't try to follow her; which reminded her that before she got going, she'd need to write the heartbreaker.
She braced herself as she got out the paper. It's for her own good, for her own good, she tried to tell herself as she started writing. Zarala knew her well enough to know that no matter the brave face her mom put on for her then, once she's away it'd all be "what am I going to do with her?" and all sorts of stress over making ends meet, hard enough as that already was. No more of that, that wouldn't do, no. Hopefully she'd be able to understand, at least in that sense, just why it was her daughter thought it best to run away.
