AMAN: The Exorcism (part III)

The silence was almost deafening as Aman and his young companion sat in the body. The Sāḥira sat across from them, not moving, not speaking… perhaps not even breathing. They were contained in a small, dimly lit room: the only other presence a sliver of silvery moonlight streaming through a small window. The two spirits held hands like frightened children, unsure of what to expect. Finally, the Sāḥira spoke.

“I will open the door and you will pass through it. You will not resist, nor will you leave any trace of yourself behind. You will never return to this child or anyone with whom she is connected. If you agree, you will not be harmed.”

Aman released his young companion’s hand in order to concentrate. He needed all of his energy to force the body to speak.

“Yes.”

The Sāḥira held her hands out, palms up. Aman laid the body’s palms face down on top and waited. For minutes, nothing happened. Then what felt like a lightning bolt shot through the body and forced it to sit upright. The eyes closed in defense, but the heart-space was still flooded with light. It began to narrow and take shape to resemble a doorway. Aman could see his exorcist clear as day, even though the body’s eyes remained closed. He turned to the young girl and reached out.

“It’s time.”

She ran to him and wrapped her body around him, hugging him as tightly as her little arms would allow. “Thank you for being my friend. I will not forget you.” She whispered, her voice breaking tearfully. “No matter what, I will never forget you.”

As she pulled away, Aman let his body take its true form. Energy swirled around him, sparks shooting from his fiery wings. The little girl smiled with genuine happiness at the light show, then waved as he moved toward the door. Aman waved back, fluttering his wings in an attempt to impress her. The movement dislodged a sparkling feather, causing it to fall.

Leave no trace of you behind.

The warning echoed in his consciousness. He reached for the feather but it fluttered away at his sudden movement, caught in an unseen draft. It settled for a moment before lifting again, this time in the direction of the doorway. Aman followed it, still trying to grab it before he was pulled completely through. It passed before him, casting bright sparks in the dark room. The Sāḥira caught it mid-air and pulled it toward her as Aman passed through the doorway and was suddenly lifted to the ceiling of the room. He tried to descend and retrieve the feather, but the Sāḥira was already moving away, tucking it into the folds of her garments. No matter how hard he tried, he could not come near her.

He turned his attention to the young woman, who lay peacefully on the room floor. She breathed slowly and steadily as if asleep. He felt glued to the ceiling, helpless to reach either woman, no matter how hard he tried. He watched as the Sāḥira lifted the girl’s body and carried it from the room. The door shut behind her as voices rose, relieved and excited that the exorcism was complete. It was only then that Aman regained control, and was able to pull away from the ceiling and lower himself to the floor. Once the voices faded and he was left in complete silence, he lifted himself up and flew through the only window in the room. Aman ascended into the night sky, a piece of himself taken without consent, and wondered if this experience might one day cycle back.