Allamanda held the rifle close to her chest. Maybe if it was close to her heart, she could love it like all the other girls did. Love it like her best friends she hunted with, those times she’d watch them with her rifle on the grass blades. Her mother bought it for her, it was traditional for eleven-year-old demonesses to get rifles. She was seventeen now and still a stranger to it. All she ever wanted was to be good to her mother but it was her best friends who killed game for her. Always.  

A knock went on the door. A red head peeped in with a grin too wide and bright for the gloomy covered morning.

“You ready?” her mother asked her.

Allamanda sighed into a pursed smile. “Yes.”

“Then let’s go,” her mother sang, swinging her arm.

 

They got into their old and only wooden cart. The splinters always got her when she got on but she learned to wear gloves. Her mother hitched the two donkeys and off they went into the woods.

It wasn’t the bumpiness of the road or the speed of the donkeys. Not her mother shaking her shoulders in encouragement. She felt sick. Sick of the idea of seeing blood. She brought dead animals home every once a week but never had she eaten them. She never wanted to kill anything, even if her life depended on it. But today was time, time to become a woman – at least in her mother’s blue eyes.

“Why you look so sick girl?” her mother asked, her eyes glancing at her and back on the trail.

“Nothing ma.”

“Is it because you’re finally gonna kill something?”

Her breath got caught in her throat. When she looked up at her mother, she had a smirk on her face.

“What you thought I didn’t know… something so shameful.” Her smirk was gone. Allamanda’s head dropped. She didn’t know what to say, her heart was beating too fast. “What’s so hard about killing an animal?” her mother asked, distaste on her lips.

“I… I just can’t do it.”

“Well, you’re going to do it today. What kind of girl doesn’t know how to hunt? How are you supposed to take care of yourself when I’m gone?”

“I can eat fruits and vegetables.”

“Fruits and vegetables? Look at your face. You’re malnourished.”

And there was that sickly feeling she hated most. Disapproval. All she ever wanted was to be accepted as she was, so what if she didn’t want bones cracking in her mouth. She didn’t need it but somehow it mattered so much that her mother see her as someone who would.

“You can’t depend on your girlfriends. You can’t depend on nobody. I depended on your father and he isn’t here now. You have to learn to do this by yourself.”

“I don’t like meat,” she muttered.

“I don’t care,” her mother stated.

The cart came to a stop. Allamanda took her time getting off. At first it was to make sure her dress full of paisleys wouldn’t tear but latter, she really didn’t want to be here. Her mother had her hands on her hips, waiting, her eyebrows furrowed a tad.

“Baby, that’s just life. We can’t always do the things we like. Sometimes you just have to grow up,” she spoke kindly. Allamanda didn’t agree but she never said it. Instead, she took her rifle and went first into the thick greenery. A smile cracked on her mother’s face.

 

In her head she was repeating to herself, just do it once, you’ll never do it again. Just prove to her you can kill it. That’s all. God might not notice.

 

She led the way, deeper into the tall trees. The loam was wet, fresh from last night’s rain. Grime stuck under her boot and when she finally found her spot, she rubbed it off on the damp grass. Her mother watched with meticulous eyes. Three deers grazed nearby. Allamanda kneeled down behind a dense bush and peeked her head up from it’s twigs and branches above. Her mother kneeled beside her.

“Guess you weren’t just letting them do the dirty work,” her mother whispered. Allamanda still felt sick but she tried her best to ignore it. She kept her face straight and eyes locked on the deer. Slowly she raised up her rifle and aimed at the nearest one. With each second her stomach twisted.

There it is, just shoot it. Just shoot it the way Amy does. Can’t be that hard. But she had told herself this over a dozen times and still she could never. She put the rifle down and exhaled intensely.

“What are you waiting for?”

“I won’t do it.”

“Do you think eating nuts and fruits will make God forgive you for betraying him?”

“I didn’t betray him… I don’t think that,” she stuttered.

“You inherited your ancestors’ sins. There is nothing you can do Allamanda, nothing you can do to ascend to heaven. You will stay here in hell with us because that is where you belong.”

That wasn’t true, at least not all of it. Allamanda did believe that if she never killed and never stole, she could be forgiven for her ancestors’ sins. She believed in miracles, she prayed to God for guidance even if she was a demon.

“We all want to be good but we can never change. We will never see heaven.”

Her face heated up and her nose burned red. She wanted to cry but her mother would slap her if she did. She swallowed hard and blinked her eyes dry.

“We can,” her voice wobbled out of her. She couldn’t hide the sting of the bitter truth. She had always been an open wound and alcohol was pouring.

“Don’t forget that you have been lying to me since you were eleven. It doesn’t matter what you do, you will never be clean enough.”

“No,” she protested and looked her mother dead in the eye. Her mother rose to her feet and looked down at her.

“Maybe this sacrifice will let you be forgiven.”

Allamanda filled with rage and anger. A self-hatred had been bubbling inside of her since she knew she was a demon, since she knew she would stay in hell forever. It bubbled up like a closed boiling pot and the top fell off. She took the rifle and shot straight at it. The deer heard her sudden movement and out of the way it moved, all three galloping out into the distance.

Her mother had stopped to look back at what would happen and she was disappointed.

“You aren’t even good enough for us,” she said and left her there.

Allamanda put the rifle down and her tears burst out of her. Pulling her knees to her chest. Finally, the hard truth was settling in. God will always forgive humans but never her, no matter what.

 

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