Exorcisms are never easy to witness and worse to perform. It's just so difficult to tell which spirit you're throwing out until they open their eyes and they're the wrong colour and you're now a monster and blah blah blah. Even when you get it right, you're still a monster to them for being able to do it in the first place.
I've been doing this since I was thirteen, when the local priest got possessed by his dying mother when she collapsed in church and let me tell you, that was one hell of a family feud. Still, in all my years I've never met any spirit that I knew in life, like actually knew.
Then I got a call saying that something's gotten into little Maria and its using her voice to say the most unlawful things. I figured it was probably the restless leftovers from the town drunk who'd wandered onto the train tracks last week and didn't wander off in time.
I was all set for another vaguely emotional exorcism until I heard the spirit's voice. My son's voice. He begged me to let him stay, said he just wanted another chance and I couldn't bring myself to throw him out into the cold, cruel world again.
So I let the girl die, I let her parents die and I took my child home with me.
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