I know the Devil

Prologue

Dear Diary, I don't know what the devil looks like... To be honest I think nobody does.

One time, my Sunday school teacher had shown us pictures and blatantly told us the grotesque figure with sharp teeth, claws, and hideous pitch eyes were the devil.

It'd made sense to me and later that day in school, (that is the public school I attended before I got a scholarship to Evans high school, a private school for the elites and a hell for the not so lucky) I'd called Bethany, the weird brunette who had been my lab partner for two years and have an endless supply of mucus on her nose, a devil. She'd cried and cried, so much so that guilt had clenched my soul in a vicelike grip even as I notice the hate for me that dug deep into hers.

Well, let's just say that was the last year she was my lab partner. That had prompted my earlier rooted belief that okay maybe the devil was indeed hideous if just the mere mention of his name had invoked such strong emotions.

Another lesson I learned about the devil was a total discrepancy. I can't remember where I have come across this particular slice of knowledge.

Maybe it was Belle's uncle who wears a white robe that made the "satan" in me get thrilled at the thought of dipping my hand into scarlet paint and ruining his white.

Of course, that was a thought I never shared but I was eager to see if his tainted garment would make his so very high shoulders normal like the rest of us.

He was a priest, I think that was what I've heard few of the women call him, so it made a great deal of sense if he was the one that told us the devil was Angel Lucifer, the morning star and so beautiful with a glorious voice that made Heaven swell.

Another lesson had taught that the devil was anything that tempts, I guess Brittany the blonde with fake extensions, well, was one since she had posted that unflattering picture of me in the sixth grade on Instagram and had tagged me in it!

The devil was not all that when he met me, He was Law Tyler, the sullen-looking boy with stormy grey eyes that always kept to himself but somehow was at the popular's table. Everybody wanted to figure him out, the girls too and so they'd come in their numbers, clinging and falling but he'd not even spared them a glance.

He was the Devil and I don't mean figuratively, I mean Satan, Lucius, Morning Star.

Whatever you call him is in Senior year with me, Row 5, Seat 17.

Two seats away from me sat the devil with grey eyes that turn pitch black when no one was looking.

Chapter 001|The reason why the word monster was created

~Need a place to hide, but I can't find one near.

~Wanna feel alive, outside I can't face my fear.

Billie Eilish - Lovely

I remember the day I had been given a scholarship to Evans high school, almost like it was yesterday. How elated mom had been and how overjoyed everyone in my public school had felt.

Rob my older brother, who is now in jail, had ruffled my hair and for once had given me a little smile. He didn't get into an argument with Mom that night and the night after that, Because he avoided the pub.

I knew why he had done it, it was the same reason why mom had used up a huge chunk of her saving to buy me a beautiful backpack and a new pair of sandals. We had chicken wings for dinner, later that day too and Mom hadn't said a word even when Rob had opened a bottle of beer, it was to mark my success.

I was lucky, everyone had muttered and I had believed them. It was hard not to when you see the envious, wistful look on their faces.

Going to Evans high school: A school for the rich, powerful and famous was a big deal. It was not every day, that a child from a ghetto-like neighbourhood like mine gets offered that kind of an opportunity.

Alas, how wrong we had all been. Because what everyone thought was the best thing that had happened to me brought a trail of other horrid happenings that became normalcy in my fucked up life until I met Him...

I woke up with a start and even without peering at the alarm clock that I had forgotten to change its battery the following day, I knew why it had not rung.

Consequently, I was late. Damn late.

My room was one in three places of our classroom at Evans high school, which had high ceilings and you could hear giggling behind while girls talked about their weekend escapades which involved Paris and an insanely amount of money used to buy something as petty as a purse or lipstick while I spend my time mentally calculating just how much problem that money spent on such trivial nuisances would have solved a problem or two at home.

If I was being honest, the room wasn't even mine. It was Rob's. I'd shared a room with Mom until Rob had gone to prison like we all knew he would someday. All the kids in our area spent vacations in prison. It was almost unavoidable.

But somehow I'd managed to leave as much as possible the same way he had. His worn-out poster picture of Drake was still on the wall and his headphones were at the same spot where he had kept the damn thing, for the past 3 years. I only lift it occasionally when cleaning and place the damn thing back there.

It might not even be working but it reminded me of Rob when he was just my passionate brother who wanted to be a rockstar and take me out to the big city as he had vehemently promised. He had harboured such a big bag of dreams and I never had the heart to tell him how horrible his voice was and how he couldn't play any instrument to save his life, despite his fumbling with the guitar, because it was the thought that mattered, right?

But then the "phase" had come. The drugs, the friends, drinking, and the women. And my highly spirited brother became a shadow of himself in just a blink of an eye.

He became a drunk and a bully. He didn't care about taking us out of the poverty-ridden neighbourhood we lived in that reeked of every crime vices possible but rather he wanted to be a King of the ghetto-like trashcan we call home.

He had succeeded and that was why he was attending his coronation in prison and had been awaiting trial for the past two years.

Worn out rug and dirty torn curtains that had certainly not been changed because of sentimental attachment but because of inability to avoid such mindless luxury.

The only thing that hinted at my personality in the little cramped space was my long pile of books stacked neatly at the side of my poster bed.

My clothes were still in mom's room because I never had the heart to take down Rob's and put mine up on the rack. It seemed so final, almost like we had moved on and had given up on him.

I stifled a yawn even as I stood up. I knew that I didn't have time to make breakfast, so I would be going without, again. Mom should be out already, that is if she even came back last night.

She was taking more shifts than necessary recently and though I didn't know why I knew better than asking. All I could do was sigh and think all night if she told me about the recent bills stacked on the counter she now took to bed every night.

I grabbed my Evans high school identification card which was totally essential if I needed to get past the high walls and gate because although I abhorred it and would have found a way to get rid of the emblem on it with a motto that was all a lie, I couldn't. Striving for excellence.

Excellence, my foot I thought with a sigh as I put my black hair into a bun so it is out of the way while I brush my teeth.

The only thing Evans high school was good at, was striving to make monsters. Monsters who took trips to Milan and Dubai wore clothes with price tags that makes me go to the washroom and shed tears at how unfair the world was and weep at how much was splurged into nothingness.

I splashed my face with water gazing at the almost empty toothpaste pack on top of the enamel sink.

Great, just another thing that needed to be bought, another stuff that needed replacement.

"Hello," I muttered drily believing I was addressing the man inside the thick clouds above my head. A man which when I was little, I liked to imagine eating from a glass of medium cooked grilled steak and sipping from a champagne flute, a snarl on his face at our petty problems we disturb him with again and again.

At least then I had believed something but now, there was this hollow ache in my heart where that thought had stemmed from. Mama had said if you didn't have money, religion was Good. Faith helps.

But as always I just had to be the one who didn't have money and also didn't believe in God.

Sometimes I wonder if I'd be in prison too just like Rob, if not for I was book smart. Because most of our ideologies were identical and he was one of the rare people who get me.

"It is a beautiful day," I whispered aloud sarcastically, hoping that just maybe if I say it loud enough I might just start believing it.

I offed the shower immediately after the last drop of foam was washed out of my body, the last thing I wanted to be doing was wasting water unnecessarily even though I couldn't help but fascinate about having a dip in a bathtub with bubbly warm water and not a care in the world in your pretty privileged head like my other school mate.

I fisted my hand remembering mom's warning about knowing my place and sticking to it. People from my neighbourhood don't dream about bathtubs and long baths, they thought of how to pay off piling bills like the one mom had in her room and how to stay out of jail.

My head was down and covered in my grey hoodie, and my earplugs played Billie Eilish's lovely, while I mumbled the lyrics even though I knew I was getting it all wrong since I hated the music and Rob had once commented on how it seemed like it gave inspiration for suicidal people to act on their gut feelings but maybe I did needed some inspiration, any kind of inspiration I thought to myself, as I tried to stay as unnoticed as possible. One of the first rules and most important rules of being a bottom feeder especially if you wish to stick around longer in Evans high school is to make sure you don't attract attention. It was an insult on its own to remind the highly placed beings that animals like myself still exist among them and there was nothing they could do about that. It was a silent taunt, a dare and it was equivalent to the corner of your lips being raised and showing them your middle finger. The consequences of not knowing this particular rule were shiver-worthy because the dirty terrible pranks that would come your way and the Jabs, bullies, and snickers would teach you that these smug privileged asses were the reasons why the word monsters were invented.

All my clothes were black or grey for a purpose, to stay hidden like an image in a hoodie and it was a game I was currently acing because apart from the intentional shove at me once in a while and increased sharpie written words in my locker with tags like charity case, smelling pig, scum and other interesting choices of words I've gotten used to after crying in the bathroom when I'd first got here for a whole year, now I looked forward to seeing what new words they managed to have stumble upon even though atimes I had to do corrections to the spelling which was getting on my nerves like If you must taunt me, at least know how to spell the damn words.

So, like I was saying, acing the invisible game had come with lots of benefits, my body had not been pushed against the wall for starters and I've not "incidentally' created a dent on my locker with my head. Maybe this month would be one of my lucky ones, just maybe I thought not knowing that soon I'd realise how wrong I had been.

Chapter 002|A Law Tyler kind of bad

~ My whole life has been pledged to this meeting with you.

Whenever I got too excited about a job that had a little over the average bucks I made in waiting tables at Morning Bli (My boss isn't creative and for full discretion we are always working, morning, afternoon, and night. Used to be morning bliss but the two s had fallen from the sign even before I started working at the diner, so that's how the infamous second name that reeked of poverty and tossed whatever ingredients worked into the pot was found) per hour, mum would always remind me never to count my chicks until they were hatched but it did sound really stupid, because who had time to count chicks when we were busy counting debts. I was one of the most practical people I know, I didn't dwell on thoughts, sayings or pieces of advice if it doesn't relate to real-life happenings and I hated theories. Rob said it was a survival instinct, I didn't really care what it was but now, as I stared at the smoothie seeping into my grey hoodie, slowly and surely like gas, it trickled in unsuspectingly and I blinked back hot tears noting from my peripheral vision that people were staring, I was forced to realize that I had counted my chicks way too early. This was bad, this was a Law Tyler kind of bad, this was a my life is over bad.

Before all the bads had gone off in my life, the bell rang just in time as I slipped my Calculus textbook from my locker into my backpack. Hurriedly closing it while with my head still down I quickened my steps to the C railway where my Calculus class took place every Friday and Thursday. Gloria, nicknamed it 45 minutes of fuckastic hell where everybody spoke English yet it sounded like Greek and codes.

I mumbled a hi at her, even as I noticed she was already making a mindless doodle on her notebook. She sat at the desk next to me so I could steal a peek, and we were both the only occupant of the whole row which seemed almost empty but it wasn't our fault that nobody wanted to sit next to us because they thought poverty was contagious.

Gloria's family was okay, though religious like mom's but though they were not Evans high standard of rich and Gloria was on half scholarship, I think they were Tyler Perry's rich to me. That dude makes tons of money, from his movies that make me snore. Just saying.

Gloria's neighbourhood was a patch of picket fence and flurry dogs, with the perfect families, definitely not a single parent and if in rare cases a single parent, an educated one with children who complained about the smallest of things. Like not getting the latest edition of the coolest video game all the kids in his school owned already.

Gloria's mom was a teacher in the community middle school and her dad was a struggling journalist. I hated how much she had but yet wasn't aware of and how much I envied her home yet she sighed discontentedly at every little inadequacy when we first became friends but now I was understanding that insatiability was Man's curse and burden.

Her mousy brown hair was in an elastic band, she wore a floral patterned gown and had bruises on her hand. She still hasn't gotten used to the wagon of being invisible and this is not in any way the teacher's fault, because I'd tried my best but the girl is damn slow. She wore Chapsticks and a pair of pretty watercoloured sandals. She was making an effort. She was pretty. I was an Antichrist to the first, which helped me stay out of trouble and the next, I never considered myself attractive or pretty, not because I thought I was hideous.

No, I was too busy going through life and snagging on whatever hand me downs Rob had to spare to have time for the huge job called consideration that didn't offer a dime.

Grey hoodie, one of Rob's baggy joggers, a black Chucks that Gloria had gifted me on my last birthday, which looked worn out now because literally it was worn out-side every day, my black hair was in a messy ponytail and my appearance I bet reeked of the antonym of Gloria's.

I leaned against the desk even as Mr Clarkson, a man in his late fifties who had this accusing glance in his eyes like he could sniff that something bad was cooking all the time and he was right, because if our wannabe bimbos with their fake extensions took as much time and creativity they did plotting socially displaced students like me and Gloria's downfall in their books maybe they could get a D.

He lazily asked us to open a page in our textbook and that was when I zoned out wishing that I wasn't so bright then I could listen as hard as Gloria did, her brow knitted, her eyes hardened and I know soon her grey pools would be clouded with frustration but no, somehow my intelligence was also a curse because it gave me a free wide berth since I could solve all the problems of that particular subject while discussing Chanel bags I'll only be able to dream of, to think of how unfair the world was and how it was okay, to be a bitch, dumb, a slut, a bully yet being poor, a crime you didn't commit yourself into, was a sin. Treason.

The bell rang and I found myself exhaling in relief amongst other students though my own relief wasn't borne out of frustration and freedom from the irritable knowledge of knowing you had no idea what our middle-aged tutor with peppery hair and kind eyes was talking about. It didn't help that he also had a thick Russian accent. But I understood fully all he talked about so much that I had to dart my eyes away from the board to stop myself from correcting one of his examples.

It wasn't like it was incorrect but he must have forgotten to round it up and it had been torturous keeping my ideas to myself hence the relief when the class came to an end.

The last thing I needed was pointing out his errors which would result in getting yet another teacher to hate my "sass" and my classmates' snarky comments and reactions that would earn me the one thing that I absolutely want to avoid with my being ~ Attention.

Gloria was calling my name and instead of reminding her yet again that I didn't like my name audible on her lips since it would only make a few people crane their necks to see who answered such a peculiar name like mine. Mind you the peculiar in this context doesn't in any way tilt towards special but just pure strange and was one of the things amongst others I hated about myself, I kept on walking.

Not wanting more people to shorten my name Prudence into their cliche bore of mockery that reeked of how creatively incapacitated they were, I adjusted my hood over my head and with my eyes down, I quickly walked out of sight.

I had been so quick, that I had almost missed one of the most popular girl in school, Jessica Trent, with her lips curled in disdain like the world was under her Gucci sandals, which was against the school dressing code and her shoulders squared like she owned the school... Wait she did.

Her father was the CEO of "Tech hub" an automobile company which in other words translated that Jessica have never met face to face with the word called unavailability in any of her wants and also a vice-president of the school board members.

Her pixie haircut, pastel-coloured nails and her short gown which stopped midthigh weren't at all the reason why my breath had hitched and my eyes had widened, but it was the gleam of evil in her eyes and the evil tilt at both sides of her lips.

I didn't register the smoothie that she had dumped on my head until the plastic disposable cup hit the ground and I heard the laughter from her minions behind her.

With my head down I was supposed to swiftly walk past them and swallow at their jeer and taunt, then I'll hate myself as tears would burn against my eyes threatening to be revealed which would eventually lead me to the washroom.

But I didn't because something unusual happened. Something that shouldn't have occurred.

"Why are you troubling her, Stacey?"

Jessica's blue eyes narrowed into slits and I could tell she was more insulted that anyone didn't know her name and worst had gotten it wrong, than the obnoxious cocky question. We turned simultaneously and that's when all the bads in my life were ticked off.

The smoothie that found its way from my head, dripped down my cheeks, melted at my shoulders and seeped into my clothes, yet didn't even register in my mind because there stood the most popular yet mysterious, good-looking though the also strangely quiet boy in school, hands tucked in his pocket like he didn't understand why our eyes were wide open in shock and why students who were loitered idly on our hallways were now videoing the drama in front of them excitedly. His grey irises were blank with no emotion and didn't revel in the attention and effect he drew like the other boys, if anything he looked bored.

Bottomless grey pools that draw, allure and lure you and promise to entrap you, Grecian nose, sharp jaw and red lips that tempt, at that point Law Tyler, was figuratively a devil to me.

Luring check

Tempts double check

A body and face that I wouldn't be shocked if he made a deal with the devil in exchange for triple check.

"Prudence, what is happening here and why were you about to let Stacey get away with what she did to you?"

I almost choked on my spit. How in God's name was he even aware of my existence not to even mention that he somehow knew my name. He sees me. This was bad. Because what could go wrong if the most desired male in a school who doesn't indulge in conversations, dropped infamous oneliners when it was essential and kept to himself, happened to get your name right and not the Queen bee's? I know the answer. It was a Law Tyler kind of bad now that's exactly the spot I was in almost hyperventilating, tongue-tied and hopelessly scared.

Chapter 003|Wants and needs

~ Don't you ever say, I just walked away, I will always want you.

Miley Cyrus - Wrecking ball

To say I was shocked when Jessica smiled cheerily instead of clawing at a smug-looking Law Tyler who seemed so oblivious to how delicious and good-looking he looked at the moment, would be the biggest understatement of the year. I was bummed and beyond surprised.

Jessica was a royal entitled bitch who would fuck anyone up, popular quarterback or handsome Ceo's heir but I had to be honest with myself and agree that there was something more about Law. Something that appealed greatly than his good looks, it was far more than the forbidden desire that curled one's toes when he pinned you with those grey eyes of his, or how hyper-alert you couldn't help but be when he was in the next room with you, it was more than the thrilling chills that ran down my spine... There was something more about Law Tyler that commanded your attention, respect and your admiration.

It wasn't a damn request, it was a frickin order to acknowledge his presence, to gulp at his unbelievable good looks, avert your gaze and find yourself sneaking a peek again.

Jessica had moved closer to him, putting on her best flirtatious smile and I wouldn't even be shocked if they walked out of the hallway, hand in hand, forgetting about me and realizing just how picture-perfect they looked, standing by each other.

"Prudence, why do you let them get away with screwing you over and bullying you?" I blinked in utter shock that he still hasn't come off whatever drug he was high on and was still talking to me, worst with how relaxed he sounded, he was completely clueless about the thousands of cameras now on his face; either that or he didn't care.

I did. I could tell this was some sick prank that Jessica herself must have come up with. Totally refreshing and badass, I'd have been impressed if I wasn't the damn target and the disbelief and shock of rejection plastered on her face were relatively the only thing that looked real on her Botox body, which I knew was sadly fake after all, was really good.

She should try acting if school didn't work out for her. What am I saying? I knew the only things in-between her brain was a handbook on how to use money extravagantly and another guide that taught her to spread her legs to get what her money couldn't buy her which was rare if I must add.

I pinned my stare to the floor, believing that if I didn't entertain the both of them, if I didn't talk to them they would get bored eventually and let me go with a few taunts and snarky comments.

"Nothing to see here," Law spelt out to the crowd that was now loitering in the school hallway, which made me raise my brow, didn't he need an audience to make my embarrassment more profound?

His voice was clipped, his tone gravelly low yet I didn't need to look up to know that everyone slowly walked back to their classes as I could hear the sound of their footwear echoing on the expensive marble and hardwood flooring of the hallways.

My gaze stubbornly lingered on the floor, watching the two pairs of shoes that remained. A Gucci pair of sandals and an expensive-looking, maybe a limited edition pair of sneakers.

"You too, Ashley," his tone was taunting and yet when I sneaked a peek at him, his face remained blank. So blank, it was scary.

"It is Jessica," she mumbled through gritted teeth and I could tell my life was over as of that minute. I could feel her glare burning through my skull, I also didn't have to look up to know this.

"Whatever you say," his words were curt and he sounded as disinterested as his sluggish stance. I remained in my humble position hoping that Jessica would go easy on me especially if she remembered that I didn't once foolishly enjoy her humiliation although I knew too well that to the students of Evans high school, mercy was a myth.

"Why didn't you attend the last party I hosted, Law? I was expecting you." Her voice was raised, a squeaky poor attempt to flirtatiously gain back her bearing in the unexpected turn of events.

"I had told you I won't be coming. I have a phobia for dumb bimbos," I couldn't hide my shock anymore and curiosity on how he was effortlessly able to insult Jessica without thinking of repercussions. Slowly, I lifted my gaze and looked at them and I wished I didn't, because the almost frightful hurting pain in the eyes of Jessica who I could swear some hours ago was made of Ice, would forever be burned in my memory.

"Now, leave." She slowly walked out and my mouth dropped, as I stared at Jessica's retreating figure in utter shock and awe. Something didn't feel right, the way people impulsively obeyed him without a word of objection felt off.

"Have anyone told you that hanging your mouth open is an unattractive feature in a lady?" I turned to meet his gaze snapping back into reality, consequently.

I held my backpack and made to resume my walk down the hall like nothing had happened even though I could tell that nothing would ever be the same. Law Tyler had destroyed my temporary invisibility with his unneeded attention.

I didn't know why he suddenly care or now saw me, maybe this was some charity assignment he was carrying out; What do I know? rich kids have disturbing weird hobbies so I didn't bother to reply to him as I fixed my gaze on the floor and resumed walking slowly away from him. I gritted my teeth, as I saw his shadow following after me.

His looming towering figure behind me distracted me and I hated it. I hated him.

"Look you have been doing well, climbing up the social ladder over the years though not by any ounce of effort from you, I can tell," I stopped, looking straight ahead, " Don't ruin it for some piece of ass," I wanted to yell at him, ask him to go and apologize to Jessica, walk away from me and tell the school it was just a joke he was experimenting than ruin his high school experience because of me.

"Are you always like this to your Prince charming?"

I snorted. Okay, I was indeed right. This was just about tapping my ass, maybe he had weird fantasies of screwing the school's outcast and now for interrupting a routine that had done more harm to me than good, he wanted something In return. I felt flattered honestly that he had gone through all that trouble just for some girl when he had all the popular rich girls of Evans high wrapped around his elegant, trimmed pinkie which was more reason to doubt his mental stability.

"I didn't ask for a saviour and how am I in your context?" I snapped, then resumed walking though faster as I wondered what he wanted from me because his strides doubled to match mine.

"Rude, frightened, annoyed, exasperated. Weird but an intriguing combination. Who would have thought plain Prudent had it in her to talk back?" I could hear the mocking snarl in his voice and was glad he was finally showing his true colours. Familiarity I could handle. "And for being a saviour? that is a direct irony to what I represent."

"I still don't know why you are still talking to me when it is evident that it is forbidden," I swivelled to look at him, now done with his games.

"What do you want?"

"You beneath me, writhing, sweaty, painfully in need of me." I scoffed. I stared at his eyes for split seconds and although they were normal, I couldn't rule out the possibility that he was on something, I hope it was pot and not meth because that would just fuck him over royally and it would be a pity if he turned out to be a crack addict especially since there have been rumours going around that he was in fact brainy.

"But my want would come right after my need."

I smirked, wishing I could record this moment and show him the dangers of drugs later on when he was off the high. That would surely keep him off popping pills or whatever he took for a while. I fascinated about the horror in his eyes when he see that he had been hitting on a plain ole Jane like me and to sweeten the deal I spelt my you as 'you and not 'u' and had never been given a million dollars to spend on shopping shoes but I knew that would never happen. Once he was back to his senses just my mere presence could make him throw up as the thought of him having his hands around me would assault his senses.

"Now, I need you to be enamoured with me completely. Just like every other millennium when we meet," he hugged me from behind and my eyes widen almost bugging out in sheer confusion as I wondered what he was rambling about and most importantly if anyone was seeing us right now, " I need you to fall in love with me, Amelia."

Okay, I've been frickin wrong. He wasn't into anything, he needed help. Like mental help as soon as possible. An asylum, put under some fancy mental institute because he was out of it completely.