The Demon of Maybe

Maybe it was because it was raining, or maybe it was because being bored in Austria doesn’t really offer a whole list of other things to do, but I decided that Friday, 16.00, was prime demon summoning time.

Just kidding. (Not about the demon part, though.)

You see, it was an accident - much as most things in my life tend to be. I wasn’t trying to summon a demon. In fact, I wasn’t even trying to do any summoning.

It all started when I decided to go on a walk. Walks usually tend to be safe ways to pass time being healthy and somewhat fun, but most importantly - free. So although the rain was pelting down, and the wind continued to assail me incessantly, I clutched onto my umbrella and trudged on under a gray sky and through disrespectfully spaced out thunderstorms. All in all, the very pinnacle of European fun.

After about a half hour of useless and mindless stomping, I was about to turn around and just take a godforsaken bus back home, when something caught my eye: a door. Not just any door, however - a bruised and battered white door. (Or rather, a once white door - its paint was peeling off, revealing a sombre grayish color underneath.)

The door in question was the rather glamorous entrance to an equally glamorous yellow building, and was currently wide open - rather unusually so, given the fact it was flooding outside. A lone paper had been stuck upon it and further glued onto it by the rain, edges shivering slightly in the wind. Scrawled onto it, in black ink, were the words: Tea, an open door, and I. Come on in.

Delightful.

Now, any normal person would’ve seen that, read it, and continued on with their day and way. But I was feeling far from normal. I mean, I was literally the only one out on the street - this had to be a sign. Right?

Motivated by a new found excitement - or delusion, rather - that this was a message sent to me by the universe, I approached this curious-looking portal, jumping over streams of water and trying not to fall into a puddle while doing so.

Curiously, I poked my head inside, all survival instincts evaporating from my body as I was greeted by the soft aroma of herbs wafting through the warm air. The dimly lit interior revealed a sort of living room with a wooden floor covered almost entirely with Persian-style carpets of varying lengths and widths. From the low ceiling hung bundles of herbs and intricate ornaments tied up by strings. In the distance, coming from the right, I could hear the faint bubbling of water boiling on a stove.

Suddenly, from somewhere in the shadows I heard a croaky voice.

“Hallo!” it said.

I turned around, squinting, eyes adjusting to the low light. There, emerging from the darkness, was a little woman. She hobbled up towards me, beckoning me to enter. With long gray hair, tied into a loose ponytail halfway down her back, she grinned at me, revealing yellowing, spaced out teeth and wrinkles all over her face. Her deep-set eyes glinted mysteriously at me and maybe it was the weather, or maybe the vibrant layers of scarves and robes that clad a slouched body, but I found myself being strangely drawn to her.

“Please, come on in, you’re the only one to pass by today.”

Uh yeah, I wonder why.

A bracelet of bells jingled and chimed as she moved through the room with unexpected speed, setting up the wooden table with teacups. She had piqued my curiosity, so naturally I had no other choice but to accept her invitation. I pulled out a chair to take a seat, dragging it across the colorful carpet underneath, and sat down.

“I have all kinds of teas - just name the one you want”

Honestly, I had never really been much of a tea person, but this little room and its little owner spoke to me in a way I couldn’t fully comprehend. I was about to settle with something safe like chamomile or mint, when she suddenly spoke again.

“You seem undecided.”

True.

She studied me through her dark eyes, bending closer to me. I bet I reeked of incompetent decision making.

Suddenly she snapped up.

“Ginger.” She plucked a dangling bundle and tossed it into a pot. “It doesn't wait for you to make up your mind - it makes it up for you."

Hm.

Her tea was fantastic. Sharp, earthy, yet subtly sweet. I had truly never tasted anything like it.

As I drank it, listening to her talk about herbs and mastering the art of tea brewing, the storm outside started to falter and come to an end. When I drank the last bit of the tan colored liquid, I stood up from the tiny chair and thanked her.

“How much do I owe you for the tea?”

This seemingly normal question caused her to furrow her brow, adding yet another line to her crinkly skin.

“Nonsense.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but instead, she shoved a bundle into my hands.

“Here, take some more,” she said, eyes gleaming up at me, “you need it. Especially on stormy days like these.”

Despite my inner voice screaming at me to stop exploiting old women by looting their tea supplies, I found myself walking the familiar stretch back home, folded umbrella in one hand, bundle in the other.

And so, the rest of my day proceeded as normal as any other. In fact, it wasn't until about a week later that I rediscovered my strangely acquired ginger tea.

It had been raining (again), and out of boredom I decided to make myself a comforting cup of coffee. Except, when I opened my cupboard to get the coffee, out fell the old lady’s tea, almost smacking me in the face as it did so. It felt only natural then, to brew that instead. It was, after all, a stormy day.

Dropping the herbs into my generic white mug, I poured the hot water over them and watched as they swirled around at the bottom. The water started changing from clear to the familiar golden color. Just as I was about to pick it up and try to take a sip while risking scalding my tongue, I noticed something else. It was as if there was something else in my tea.

Something bright, like a -

Suddenly a blinding flash of white light appeared out of nowhere. I quickly stepped back from the counter my tea had been on, heart racing.

The bright glow grew bigger and bigger while I felt the room get hotter and hotter.

An explosion of light filled my apartment. I squeezed my eyes shut and covered my face in a futile attempt to shield myself from whatever was happening.

I braced myself for impact.

Yet it never came.

What the -

Slowly, I cracked open one eye, still hiding behind my raised arms.

“Your feng shui is appalling.”

Huh??

I cautiously cracked open the other eye to see what in the world had just happened. And more importantly - who the hell had just said that.

The sight before me made me audibly gasp.

There, in front of me, sitting atop my kitchen counter where my cup of ginger tea had once been, was an unidentifiable… thing.

Worse, even, that I could not name what I was staring at, was the way it looked. It was nothing short of ghastly.

Crouched in a strange squatting position with long, dark red and bony limbs, was a creature. It looked at me through yellow eyes. Nay - through black slits I presume were pupils - from said yellow eyes. I wasn't entirely sure what its facial expression was - if it even had one - but its mouth was slightly upturned, revealing unsettlingly large canines. On the top of its head, were two small, curved horns.

I was at a loss for words.

But not at a loss for profanities.

“What in the ever-loving hell are you?”

It stretched out its legs and hopped off my counter. Now on the floor, it straightened up and stood in an unexpectedly human stance. I realised with no small amount of horror that this thing was taller than me. And I was pretty tall.

“Okay, rude.” It scoffed, “just because I don't look like what you expected, doesn't mean you get to insult me.”

Fair. But still - who said anything about expecting?

“What are you?”

It crossed its arms and squinted as it took me in.

“I don't like your tone,” it said, voice surprisingly deep and mellow, “after all, I didn’t expect you to look like that, yet you don't see me insulting you.”

Excuse me?

“Expecting? What I was expecting was to drink ginger tea, not whatever this is,” I gestured to it.

It raised one thick eyebrow. “Well I’m here now. And I must say - I don’t feel welcome. You're a terrible host.”

“Huh? I don't even know what - sorry, who - you are!” I sputtered.

It huffed.

“You can call me Noisi,” it said, “it’s not my full name, though. That one is reserved for close friends.”

To say I was perplexed would be an understatement. I was beyond shocked. I was about to open my mouth and say as much, but it - Noisi - cut me off.

“Before you ask again - which, by the way, is rather rude of you - I am a demon. You summoned me through tea.”

I did no such thing. I merely wanted to drink something warm, but instead I got… a piece of hell in my living room?

After a short silence in which I felt massively observed and scrutinized, it huffed again and rolled its eyes.

“So are you going to introduce yourself too or…?”

I almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation.

“I’m Anna. Just a girl. Not a demon.”

And that’s how I ended up in this situation: face to face with a demon. Apparently.

~~~~

For a demon, Noisi wasn't exactly very demonic. Demonically annoying - maybe - but menacing? Not really.

He spent his days being a mild to moderate inconvenience, saying things like “you need to open your blinds - it's darker than hell in here” or dusting my shelves since “they were honestly a disgrace.” His favorite activity however, seemed to be giving me unsolicited advice. (The fact he somehow had a strong Romanian accent really added to his words.)

In fact, he was currently doing just that.

“You’ve spent so long cooped up in this room, I almost thought you were under house arrest.”

I glared at him. Partly because it was none of his business and partly because he wasn’t fully wrong about that. (But then again, none of his business.)

“You’re going to that fest.”

No I wasn't. Who was he to tell me what to do?

“I don’t want to.”

What was there to do at a fest anyways? If freedom was loud music, drunk university students, and moving lights, I’d much rather be under house arrest.

I had been scrolling on my phone, trying to drown out his talk of why I should invest in an ETF - whatever that meant - when a ping coming from my phone interrupted him. The ping had been an invitation for my university’s semester opening party. Which I was going to decline. Obviously.

“You’re just scared.”

“No,” I said, getting up from my chair, “I just don't want to go.”

His incredulous expression told me everything he didn’t say.

“Wuss.”

“Excuse me?”

“You have been excused,” he said, before adding quietly under his breath “wuss.”

I rolled my eyes. What an idiot.

I turned off my screen and set my phone face down on my desk. I had other, more important things to do. Plus, the fest wasn't until Friday. Today was Wednesday.

“Just because you can’t see it, doesn't mean it doesn't exist”

“Just because it exists, doesn’t mean I care.”

Although I didn’t turn around to see, I could picture his facial expression. Yellow eyes and tiny horns, shaking his head in slight disappointment.

“I don’t care,” I repeated, once again.

Yet my friend’s message remained unanswered - no confirmation, no declination.

~~~~

Noisi paced around my room.

“Commitment, I see, is a problem for you,”

Once again, he was holding a sermon. Today’s topic was my “evident commitment issues.” His main point? My “bleak” apartment. God forbid a girl enjoy minimalist decor.

“It’s not that you like minimalism, per se, it's because you can’t commit to a style. You’re indecisive.”

Actually, it’s because I was a broke university student. But that was a conversation for another time. I didn’t need to hear his stance on my poor money management skills. For a second time.

Sighing, I went to the kitchen. I was starving. Sadly, it seemed so was my fridge. There was virtually nothing inside. Welp, I’d have to order something online.

“Second time this week, Anna.”

I genuinely didn’t know why that was any of his business, but then again, my business appeared to be his expertise.

Opening up the food ordering app, I hesitated slightly. So many options. Pizza, pasta, sushi… I couldn’t choose. I scrolled down.

Whatever, it's not like you’re buying a house - just pick something.

I clicked on the place order button, confirming my order. I looked up to see Noisi staring at me with a facial expression I hadn’t seen before. Something close to minute pride.

“Progress.” He said, “last time it took you thirty minutes to decide.”

~~~~

I was trying to stay awake to finish my math assignment, but my eyes were all but sealing themselves shut. Instead of helping me and doing something useful like solving a curve integral or two for me, Noisi was being annoying.

“Its not like you need to be solving integrals right now.”

I scribbled a few scary-looking numbers onto the page before me.

“You’re just using it as a decoy to seem busy when in reality you’re running away from going to the fest.”

This again.

I rolled my eyes - an action I had recently been doing much more of.

“No, I don’t want to go.”

He crossed his arms.

“And I’m supposed to believe that? You’d rather sit at home, alone with a calculator, doing math?”

Framed like that it did sound sad. But that was just his propaganda.

“I don’t even have an outfit.”

“See, that, I do believe. I’ve seen your closet,” he grimaced.

I shot him a dirty look. There was nothing wrong with my fashion sense.

From the table, I picked up my phone.

Sorry, I can’t make it - gotta finish up some work.

Yet once again, I didn’t hit send.

“Tsk, tsk, look at you choosing not to decide once again,” he was leaning on the door, staring at me.

“If you don't mind, I have things to do.”

“You know what happens when you push yourself outside your comfort zone?”

No, and neither did I want to. So I ignored him. But he continued anyway.

“Growth. And you, my friend, need to start doing that.”

That was a sentence I never thought I’d hear coming from a demon. (Honestly speaking, I never thought I’d hear anything coming from a demon, but here we were.)

That night, after I went to bed, I dreamt of empty closets and human growth hormones. I don’t know why.

~~~~

It was strangely quiet when I opened up my eyes the next morning. By now, I had gotten used to waking up to the sound of Noisi wiping down my kitchen counter or muttering something about my lack of color coordination as he arranged my socks.

I got up out of bed, and looked around, expecting to see him sitting on my chair. He wasn’t there. Perhaps he was in the bathroom, cleaning the limescale off my mirror. He had complained about that yesterday.

Yet when I went to brush my teeth, the bathroom was empty.

Oh.

“Noisi?” I called out, half afraid he’d jump out from somewhere behind me then scold me for being too unaware of my surroundings.

Nothing.

Maybe he was on my balcony.

Nothing.

There was a little ache in my chest, then, when I realised he wasn't in my apartment at all. He was gone.

The rest of the day, Noisi’s absence didn’t go by unnoticed. I kept expecting him to pop up with a random piece of advice that I hadn’t asked for. As I hesitated between picking cereal or porridge for breakfast, I almost heard him say “decision-making has always been your strong suit.” When I was folding my laundry, a “so much polyester in a laundry basket should be a phobia” rang through my ears. But he remained gone.

As the sun set and I sat on my balcony alone, drinking coffee, I stared at my phone. Specifically, at the message I had been ignoring for the past three days.

The biggest semester-opening party. The biggest “no.”

Yet deep inside, I knew I was curious. I knew I wanted to go - at least just to see. I was always too scared of the unknown. Perhaps a little too scared.

Growth is difficult - but so is being stuck in the same place for too long. I know you don’t like being under self-inflicted house arrest.

I could hear him. Romanian accent and all.

Setting the coffee down, I typed out a message. And hit send.

Later, as I checked my reflection in the mirror one last time before heading out my door, I felt the warmth of ginger tea in my chest.

It was time.