Delihla Bee full part 1!

My name is Delihla Bee.

I try to pretend my family is at least semi-normal and some of the time it works! But other times... well it's a living- hell, literally.

I live in Hell, you know the big red fiery place? But sadly it's not what most people think it is. It's actually pretty boring. We walk, talk and shop like when we were alive. In fact last decade I bought a new daemon that actually burps fire when you feed it pomegranates! But to be short and sweet Hell is simply where every one who dies and stays until they are reborn. The rest you probably know, if you were good you're reborn quickly otherwise, well ya... and unfortunately I have been down here for two thousand years and truthfully, it sucks.

Now comes the interesting part, because if i don't explain to you how the system works down here, you will get all upset when I call my little brother a slime ball. See, when a soul comes down they take on a form that "suits" them. My father is a giant rock like man completely covered in granite, my mother, well she's a harpy, screeching voice and all. Then comes my little brother and as you can guess... he's an Alien slime ball. Seven tentacles, gooey slimy skin and worst of all he smells like he was left in the sewers for weeks. But I guess I can't be that upset, back when I was alive my two living brothers smelt almost the same. Then comes me, the only person who's the form I am (and sadly species are only interested in the same species you know, slime balls with slime balls and harpies with harpies) and I got stuck as a human.

So I am going to tell you my story the only way I know how, sarcastic, truthful and hope fully not too overdramatic, so to all who have week hearts, see you after the last page!

A few unfortunite days later...

“Delihla Bee, get your thieving little butt down here this minute!” my mother screamed from the kitchen, mindless of the neighbors.

“Coming mother,” I shouted back tiredly.

God, why must she call me in that shrill voice that makes my ears ring? And what could she be bitching about now? There was noooo way Mrs. Coulret told her of the necklace. It wasn’t even hers to begin with! Slowly I trudged down the stair way, thinking ways for making up two lies, one to stick with, the other to tell my father incase it went down hill.

“What do you think you were doing, thieving that old man of his chest! Do you know how much it costs?” she yelled, then sighed and covered her old wrinkled eyes with her old wrinkled hand. “You just, god I can’t believe you, how long do you plan on staying here, every one knows your story, will you ever change?” And with one last resigned sigh she slowly walked up to her room. Her pink calf length skirt, which was hugging her womanly hips, swayed as she sauntered down threw the unlit hallway her hand still cupping her brow. God, she really knew how to lay it on me, she knew the things to say that would keep me from sleep and run through my head over and over and over.

I slowly trudged back up to my room and as I walked through the hallway I could here a muffled crying coming from my mothers room. Why did she have to fucking care, why? I have been here longer than any one else, they shouldn’t feel for me, they should try to relate. Because sooner or later they would be reborn and this would all be a nightmare. A déjà they would dismiss and then promptly continue on with their lives. I was not leaving, my nightmares were real. They were my past,present and future, I would never leave.

After hours of sitting up against my bed post thinking of my earlier conversation with dear old mum my eye lids finally started to flutter closed. And with that I lay down and fell into an uncomfortable sleep filled with my own personal demons.

God, it was morning, the bright sun light shone threw my slightly cracked green window shades. I hardly slept and what little sleep I did get was everything but peaceful. I’m not sure if I even want to go to school, I mean why go, I rarely did and it’s not like it will be information I’ll be using out side or that torture chamber any ways. And this bed was sooo warm and sooo soft, maybe I should just go back to sleep and hope mother didn’t come pounding on my door. The sweet numbness that filled my every bone, relaxed, warm and completly stress free. My bed wouldn't order my to write sentencas or sit up straight. I think my bed is my best freind, I could never leave a friend. Nope, no school for me today!

next part soon to come!