BLACK BIRDS IN MAHLA'S EYES
Marya

The woman tied her pale blonde hair tightly at the top of the head, leaving behind the riaps of the hairdo that came out of her bindings. The bond was as strong as iron, making his back always upright, giving no room to the dark who liked to hide among the shadows.

He had just finished the last fold of clothing with a charcoal iron, then placed the heavy object on a blackened iron bar. The hot steam from the charcoal was still billowing towards his face, making both his cheeks reddish and warm.

Protect them, Marya.

A voice he had known all along, began to whisper him back. For a long time the voice never touched his hearing. The sound was still as clear and melodious as the clattering of wind clappers.

“Only God will protect them!” Hardik Marya is firm. The woman then took a rosary that was always hanging around her neck. The rosary is made of a clear purple amethyst array, a gift from Father Simone, a highly revered saint in their neighborhood.

“Only Jesus will save me and my children.” The embrace was loud as the voice rattled back inside his mind.

Your kids need you.

Marya began to make the sign of the cross and recited prayers to the Archangel Michael in order to expel the spirits that had begun to approach her. He hated all apparitions that just appeared like laron swarming a light bulb after the rain.

“Sancte Michael Archangele, defend nos in proelio; contra nequitiam et insidias diaboli esto

praesidium.”.

Marya recited the prayers of Archangel Michael until she felt that everything was back to normal. No more crowds of spirits who come to him with a variety of shapes and looks that are unsightly. They would come to him if he let that clear voice whisper to his head.

Marya becomes a kind of beacon in the dark for the spirits if she receives contact from the spirits who have been with her for decades.

He then rushed to pack the clothes he had just tidied up, as the fine flap of wings rang out in his ears.

“Barukh?" Call her softly as the cold air envelops her, as if a cool invisible blanket is enveloping her.

There was a strange kind of longing in his heart. The ancient spirit named Baruch has been following his family for generations. He got it from his grandmother, right after his own mother died when he was just seven.

“He will only appear when your soul is truly in danger.” Said his grandmother at the time. Sure enough, Baruch had only appeared when he was in a state between life and death.

At that time her husband choked himself by setting his foot right above Marya's neck, while, before that his face had hit the floor hard.

Barukh immediately manifested a windstorm that directly ravaged their home, which resulted in her ex-husband was bounced. The violent man fell on heavy furniture in their home which left him paralyzed instantly.

Shortly after the incident, her husband died because he could not forget the incident. The man saw Baruch as the worst version of all creatures. The ancient spirit punished him in the most humane way, the man saw his own ugliness for many years. The man could not bear it, he chose to hang himself in the forest until finally exhaling his last vile breath.

“Barukh, is that you?” Marya lirih.

In fact, he could not forget how beautiful and pure Baruch seemed, but his new faith taught that anything involving Satan was a betrayal of faith.

I'm going to Mahla.

The voice again disturbed Marya's mind. Reflexively, he again made the sign of the cross and intended to recite the prayer to Michael the Archangel, but Baruch's voice was heard again with so loud and clear in his head.

That prayer won't hurt me, Marya. Michael the Great only drives away those who are destructive and vile. I'm not between the two.

The voice clinked so softly in Marya's mind, leaving her unable to speak anymore. The creature is true, its presence is not at all disturbing or dangerous.

He will only show up when Marya needs him.

“Mahla doesn't need your help, I release you from your obligation to look after my family!” Hardik Marya tried to hold on to her beliefs, which now felt like holding on to a slippery wet iron.

God forgive me.

Whispers repeatedly.

Then her worst fear came to her, Mahla came down the stairs with curiosity overflowing from her pair of eyes.

“Bu, talk to whom?” Ask the girl.

Marya can't dodge anymore. Baruch will move to Mahla's side. He always knew, they would not be able to live quietly, there was always a price to be paid for an excess. The tongues of fire that once gripped her at the birth of her children had been seen again yesterday.

When the woman named Jehna fell on the floor of her house, she saw the same fire dancing in Mahla's eyes. There was something dark and ancient lurking about them, to the point that Baruch appeared before them at this moment.

Lord have mercy on us.

*

Marya locked herself in her prayer room. The room was in his room in the back of the house. He often spent time there talking to a God who never seemed to hear him.

“My Lord,” The whisper is slow once. “Why did you let the curse drop on my two children?” She held her rosary tightly.

“Why don't you just let me bear it?”

Marya cried herself to sleep on the altar of her prayer. The rain fell very hard as if crying for the pain borne by Mahla's mother.

The dream is always the same and colorless. That day, a year before her mother's death, Marya clearly saw a flash of what appeared to be a harbinger of her mother's death. He saw his mother fall with her hands clutching her chest. He knew something bad was going to happen. He always saw it long before the bad things really happened.

“Your son is a witch!” His father sprayed the mother who caught Mary talking with empty air. At that time, Marya greeted a group of banshees who had apparently just moved down the outermost window of their house.

He thought the banshees would mourn the death of his elderly grandmother, but Marya did not think that it was not her grandmother who would die at that time.

“He's still a kid, it's natural for him to imagine!” Marya's mother does not want to lose.  His father was a very devout churchman, while his mother was the son of a pagan who believed in the power of nature.

“She's a witch like your mother!” His father did not want to lose. Marya peeked at their quarrel from behind the door that could hide her petite body.

“He can talk to ghosts! He foretells the fate of people! Soon people will come to her like they studied with your mother!” Marya's father's reproach was unforgiving.

At that time, Marya's grandmother was a well-known healer. It used to offer healing alternatives with herbs and praise to nature. Marya's father, however, believed her in-laws to be real witches, and sadly, it declined to Marya.

The sound of her father's loud slap on her mother's cheek always returned Marya to her present life.

She clearly remembered what her grandmother said when her mother died.

“All descendants in our family are blessed.”

Marya wondered, was this really all a blessing to them?

She observed the scars permanently imprinted along her arms, as well as the deep grooves behind her skirt. His father's hard upbringing came many years after his mother died.

Marya also then groped her molar tooth which dated after her husband hit her hard. She had just given birth to the disabled Malekh. She then rubbed her temple that had been torn because her husband saw the width of the wings in a pair of black eyes Mahla.

“You demon girl!” Always her husband scolded her hard, then fucked her like a worthless animal. After that, he will just be thrown away.

Marya scattered the scars that ran across her body. It was nothing, nothing compared to the memory of the night his father preyed on his body.