My Demon: Chatty

Just a one-shot that’s been banging around in my head this weekend. Do tell me what you think.

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Photo by Logan Voss on Unsplash

Did you know that when people say “he’s struggling with his demons” they are being—unknowingly—literal?

Most of us really do have demons that are assigned to come hang out in our subconscious. We don’t really hear them or know that they are there, at least not in a conscious manner.

Except for me…

…because of course I can hear the demon hitchhiking around in my head.

Some people hear ghosts and can make millions off of it.

Me, I hear Chatty.

A little about me: My name is Leia (parents were Gen X, a.k.a. massive Star Wars fans). I’m 28 and I live with two roommates in a two-bedroom apartment in Bellevue, Washington. During the day I’m a receptionist at a law firm. Nights and weekends, I work as a delivery driver. I’m cisgender female, neuro-typical, and own no pets.

In other words, I am completely, one-hundred-percent, boring.

“Which is why I picked you,” Chatty said.

(By “said” I mean, I heard it clearly in my head, like a podcast coming through earbuds attached to my brain. Earbuds with no volume switch.)

“You didn’t pick me specifically; you were just looking for the most inconspicuous place you could find to hide out.”

“True,” it drawled. Chatty does that—switches accents and inflections like it’s trying on new roles in a constant one man, er… demon, play. “The fact that you didn’t have any other spiritual beings in residence greatly contributed to my decision matrix.”

I snorted and leaned against the wall of the crowded nightclub. I wondered again how I’d let Chatty and my roommates convince me to come out tonight.

“So,” I thought as I sipped my watery drink, “what happens when the big boss Daddy downstairs decides that I need to be less boring? What if he sends someone to be the devil on my shoulder?”

Chatty replied, “First, you know very well that you only agreed to come because you were worried that Tina and Jackie would need assistance. Also, please never ever again refer to HIM as ‘Daddy’.”

I could feel Chatty shudder. The sensation actually made goosebumps rise on my neck and arms.

“Right. Noted,” I said. “But, what if?”

“In this town? On this planet? No, my dear, there are too many targets of opportunity to waste resources on someone like you.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You are welcome. Now, about that fellow over there giving you puppy eyes…”

Remember when I said that Chatty has no volume switch? It also has no off-switch, and it knows when I’m trying (and failing) to ignore it. In the past fourteen months I’ve tried meditation, noise machines blasting through headphones at hearing-endangering volume, and even singing really obnoxious ear-worm songs on constant repeat. Nothing works. Chatty just keeps right on with whatever conversation it’s decided we’re going to have, stopping only for tangential comments on the random thoughts I’m trying to distract myself with.

“Let it go, Chatty.” I sat my half-empty glass on the nearest table.

“I abhor that sobriquet. Come on, let’s devise the perfect icebreaker. I know! You can approach Mister Average and ask, “Didn’t I deliver a parcel to you, this past week?””

“Sobriquent? Parcels? What’s up with you today?”

“That program which we partook of last evening has reminded me of better, more elegant times. In those days language was poetry conveyed with every carefully crafted word.”

“A more elegant weapon for a more civilized age?”

“Precisely! Why, I recall clearly… wait.” It was quiet for several heartbeats. “That was a quotation from an old movie. You used it sarcastically.”

“Yup,” I thought. A smile quirked on my lips.

“Yes! Now you see my point.”

It’s really weird having a demon be proud of you.

I so need therapy.

“You cannot afford therapy. Also, as I have told you many times, none of the pharmaceuticals of this age will have any effect upon my presence.”

“Of this age?” My thought had a little spark of hope. “So, absinthe might help?”

“Ooo, do you have some? I’ve missed it so. But no, dear girl, no manner of substance abuse will lessen our special bond.”

“Fine.” I moved further away from the corner where the subject of Chatty’s matchmaking was seated.

“Where are you going? Tell me why you do not wish make the acquaintance of that man.”

“Not until you stop talking like a damn Dickens novel.” I snarled inside my head.

“Ha! Now there was a fellow who deserved the demonic presence assigned to him. The stories I could tell you… No, you won’t distract me. Tell me or I’ll go poking around until I find the answer. You know you don’t have time for the migraine that will cause.”

“Don’t you dare! I have to work tomorrow morning!”

There’s a reason I’ve named my demon “Chatty”. It talks all the time. So much talking…

So, when Chatty is silent, it has a profound effect.

This silence acted as a tangible threat that initiated an instinctual prey response.

“Chatty? What’s wrong?”

“You need to leave, now.” Chatty said. It sent a shot of pure adrenaline racing through me.

“What? Why?”

“No time. Take those twenties out of your pocket and tell the girls to get a cab home. Also, take the side door.”

I found myself moving toward my roommates with the money already in my hand, before I’d even consciously decided to leave. I grabbed Tina’s shoulder and pulled her close, so she’d hear me over the music. I yelled in her ear that I was leaving. As I straightened, I saw the dark-haired, blue-eyed man near the bar.

“Oh shit,” I thought.

“Precisely. Time to go!”

“Tom from work is who has you all freaked out?”

Chatty laughed in a wheezy, dry, way. “Yes, darling. Tom is an ambitious mid-level associate at a law firm. Do you really think he doesn’t have a demonic advisor?”

“Ah,” I thought as I pushed my way through the crowd. “And you’re afraid if we’re close to him, in an environment where inhibitions are lessened, that his demon will sense you?”

“I know it will happen.”

I was half-way across the well-lit parking lot when Chatty added, “Just now, I got a good look at the aura around Tom. His demon is hunting tonight.”

I walked faster without having to be prompted.

Sometimes, it helps to have a guardian demon.