The Black House

Dedicated to Amany Sayed (read, seventeen nights by her first)

"Go down the Memory Road, Delilah."

"Okay. Yellow was a light. Yellow memories are the best. Shining, happiness, and sunshine. They glittered down Memory Road.

Fairy lights, vintage photos, the rainbow flag, all things happy lived here, at The Yellow House."

"Blue was tears. Blue memories are dreamy. Blue lights, calm nights, relaxed music. They flowed down Memory Road.

Blue diaries, blue shades, the sea's songs and the skys, all things calm lived here, at The Blue House."

"Red was dangerous. Red memories were scary. Red blood, red feelings, red hearts. They glowed down Memory Road. Blood, anger, horror, all the scary things lived here, at The Red House."

"Go on, Delilah."

"Green was life. Green memories were refreshing. Alive-ness, light, and energy. They shimmered down Memory Road. 

Green leaves, caterpillars, and dew drops. All the refreshing things lived here, at The Green House. "

"Why was the Red House scary, Delilah?"

"I don't know. She tells me it was scary. She tells me many things."

"Who is, she?" 

"She told me to call her Mama."

"Okay. Tell me more about the memories, Delilah."

"Okay. Orange memories are fun. Pranks, pumpkins, and sunsets. They blink down Memory Road. 

Pumpkin pies, campfire songs, and warm colours. All things fun live here, at The Orange House."

"Brown is… different. Crunchy leaves, withered branches, autumnal calls. They dull it, down Memory Road.

Heartbroken poems, pastel brown, and dead soil. All things broken live here, at The Brown House."

"Is there a Black House, Delilah?"

"Yes. There is a Black House. But Mama tells me not to go there."

"Why?"

"Mama doesn't like it, when I ask questions about The Black House."

"Where is Mama right now?"

"Here. There. Anywhere. Nowhere. Everywhere. Mama doesn't know where she is."

"Does Mama use you to ask where she is?"

"Sometimes. Never. All the time. I don't know."

"Could you tell me about The Black House?"

"No, I told you. Mama doesn't like it, The Black House."

"Please?"

"I TOLD YOU MAMA DOESN'T LIKE IT!" Delilah roared. Her eyes became white circles, her face stretched into a bloody grin, as the chains lit on fire. 

"Calm!" The chains went back to normal. Her eyes came back. The blood disappeared. A giggle slipped through.

"Why are you giggling?"

"Mama said that she liked how I used my powers. She said she loves me." Another giggle left her lips.

"Delilah, no." The woman said, as Delilah came down in all fours.

"Delilah yes." 

Delilah ripped off a piece of her skin. Flesh too. Blood poured out. She licked the blood. Her tongue had grown, snake-like. Her teeth were now canine. The white room was splattered, blood red. The woman sat still, stuck. Delilah's now long, dirty nails screeched and scratched the cold, marble floor. Demonic laughter filled the room.

"Mama is so happy with me, she allowed me in The Black House!" She spoke, distorted. 

"Black was dark. Black memories are thick. Jealousy, blue blood, and envy. The Black House darkened Memory Road. 

Ink, murder, night sky, and old cloaks. All the forgotten things lived here, at The Black House."

As she finished, the woman was quivering. 

"DIE!" Delilah screamt and a black root shot out of her hand. It strangled the woman, killing her. Her eyes went full black, and her body, crippled and collapsed, like a withered leaf.

"Let's go down The Memory Road!" Delilah spoke, and giggled.

"Please?"