Mephistopheles
She tried to cook something from scratch and ended up summoning a demon.
The demon looked at her with bottomless golden eyes and smiled.
And she sold her heart and soul for one dollar.
In a puff of smoke the demon left and she stared at the coin on her open palm.
She was all alone. In Joe's kitchen.
Tomorrow they would be officially wedded in front of family and friends. Inside the church.
Her wedding gown was really pretty. Her mother was really happy. All her friends were extremely excited.
"I can do this." She stared at the slightly tarnished coin. Her voice sounded weird in her own ears.
"I can do this." She repeated. Her hand wasn't shaking. Sex. Love. Family. Happiness. She deserved it all. She had learned to cook.
She would be a perfect housekeeper.
She would be a great mother.
Her children wouldn't be starving.
Her husband would be happy.
Her house would be tidy.
Every evening she would serve creamy mashed potatoes. There would be cheese in the sauce. Every sauce. All the sauces.
And garlic. A generous amount of garlic. A hearty amount of garlic.
Garlic and cheese. Joe's favorite.
To be married on the first day of the New Year. Yeah. She stared at the coin. She smiled at the coin. She could feel its warmth.
She could do it. She would do it.
She deserved it all.
Joe deserved it all.
And she did love Joe. The unquestionable passion. The hairy torso. The smile. The trust.
The...
The...
The...
Her face twitched a little. Her heart fell into silence. Her soul was now but an empty void. Sold. To be collected at a later date. Both.
A little something inside her snorted.
Cliché.
How cliché.
But this was her choice. This was what she wanted. Everyday reality and ordinary happiness. Batman is a comic. Batman didn't exist.
And all the jokers and clowns were here.
She stared at the coin on her open palm. Joe's kitchen smelled of rotten eggs. Or was it sulphur? She blinked once. She blinked twice.
Tomorrow would be a busy day. Hairdo. Makeup. Bra. Panties. All the tiny details.
Once she put on the ring, she wouldn't take it off.
Wouldn't. Couldn't. A little something inside her snickered. Liar.
She needed to go to bed earlier. It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding. Tonight, she would sleep alone.
Romeo and Juliet.
West Side Story.
Grease.
She cleaned up the kitchen and went upstairs. She closed her eyes as the clock struck twelve.
The slightly tarnished coin shone like another sun inside the bedside drawer.
She burrowed deeper into the comforter. Happy New Year to me...
The wind howled louder.
The world turned black.