"Come on, come all! Garments of all sizes, woven fabrics from afar!"

"Apples fresh from the Valley, how crimson and ripe they are! Twelve sterlings a sack, my, what a deal to offer

"Pearls, pearls from the deep blue. Stringed into necklaces and bracelets, embellishments aimed to woo!"
She was of no more than six years of age, clutching timidly onto the rich fabric of Ma's burgundy cloak as they moved through the crowd of people. The hectic din of the flea market had always intimidated Tania, who, in contrast, was soft-spoken and docile as a deer

The familiarity of Ma's ocean scented-detergent invaded her nostrils, enveloping her with the comforting illusion of home. At ease, she found the will to raise her gaze, and the sight of tiny, ramshackle stalls overflowing with trinkets lined up haggardly on either side of the street greeted her. Each stall sported a diverse plethora of hues, ranging from the darkest of ebonies to the brightest of neons. The aisle between, in contrast, was a sea of monotonous shades, dotted with figures in tweed jackets and satin cloaks.

Merchants hollered out bargains at shoppers who bustled to and fro, as their wrinkled hands, rough from years of hard labour, jangled brass bells in a bid to attract attention. Even when customers flocked to the respective stalls, the pandemonium never ceased. Lively, rhythmic jingles accompanying street performers mingled into the cacophonous conversations of passer-bys and the mechanical sound of machinery as every once in a while, purring vehicles streaked by. Tania found her breath growing choppy, unaccustomed as the whirring engines left clouds of dust in their wake, permeating the already saturated atmosphere.

Ma halted. Before her stood a dilapidated shack, lined with rows of garments. Her hands flitted about with poise as she examined the dresses displayed upon coat hangers on a rack, almost barricading the entrance. The vendor, a robust, red-faced woman with an even redder mob of hair and a deep, almost masculine voice came dashing out from the depths of the cluttered stall. Gregariously, she greeted Ma, promptly whipping out her best items to showcase. With wobbly legs and even heavier eyelids, Tania took to sitting on the ground, not caring if the dirt ruined her dress.

Sheer boredom ate at her persistently, and no matter how much she tried, it was an itch she could not scratch. It was that loose end at the edge of that sleeve, the more you tugged, the longer the unraveling thread seemed to go on. Push never did have to come to shove. Within milliseconds of (not so) wary consideration, Tania was back on her feet. The soles of her leather sandals, worn from hours of running under the Mediterranean blaze, were so thin that she felt the heat of the ground below radiating into the bottoms of her tiny feet, yet she paid them no heed.

She began to wander away, letting only the tumultuous yet somehow euphonic sound of street music guide her way. It drew her in like a moth to a flame, like Odysseus to the sirens. Further and further away she drifted, trusting not sight nor mind but her ears. The moving figures fused into a homogeneous blur, yet somehow she found her way through the crowd with ease, unsure of where she was headed but certain that she was headed somewhere.

Her vision adjusted back to clarity at the touch of hands against her bony shoulders. Her turquoise doe-eyes widened as she stared at the woman before her. Her frizzy hair was a deep shade of brown, held back over her shoulders by a knotted scarf, tumbling down her back. The neckline of her dress was deep enough to expose her sharp collar bones, matching the chiseled precision of her jaw. Her skin, although aflush with pink, had a tinge of caramel Tania had never seen. In her hands she held a tambourine, beating it against her hip in beat to the music. Her traits appeared familiar, yet faintly extrinsic. Perhaps that was why her beauty stood out like blood against snow.

The gentle hands left Tania's shoulders. Their owner, a young boy, appeared in her peripheral vision. Those eyes, almond-shaped and amber like a burning flame. His skin was a shade darker, nonetheless, the duo bore an uncanny resemblance to one another. He smiled a brilliant white smile, the eye-crinkling, dimple-deepening contagious kind that lit up the atmosphere. The evidence of his adolescence, mild acne accompanied by red freckles, was scattered across his otherwise clear complexion. Sitting down, his palms instinctively thumped along to the beat.

The blood sun sets
Into the valley beyond
From within we do not see
Demons lurk around

Tania's eyes instinctively swiveled towards the wall she had, for the past six years of her life, never paid attention to. It stood almost 25 feet tall, and though its foundation was of bricks and mortar, over the years sections had been strengthened with steel. The turrets were guarded throughout the day by armed troops, though no civilian had seen what was beyond the walls. It was strictly confidential. Frequently enough, rumours would blossom, supposedly from the old-timers, of what lied beyond.

"Demons?" she inquired, eyes brimming with curiosity.

The boy's smoldering gaze met hers, though he did not stop playing. "Aye, demons. That's why they have guns, to shoot them down if they come too close."

"Why do we have to keep them out?"

"Child, it is beyond our understanding. The demons are all gluttony, treachery, and malice. They must be kept at bay," chimed in the woman, slightly out of breath from dancing.
She untied her scarf and set it down before her, bowing as people cheered, tossing sterling pieces in appreciation. "But aren't they afraid?"
The street performer laughed heartily, her face flushing red. "Why, our troops have no need to be, child.”

Tania's brow crinkled in confusion. "I meant the demons..."

The woman cast her a glance of horror. Before she could retort, Tania was startled by hands gripping her shoulders. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Do you have any idea how worried I was??” Her heart jumped back from her mouth to her chest at the sight of Ma’s reprimanding hazel eyes. Tania only kept silent, averting her eyes to the ground.
Tania wanted to inquire about these ‘demons’ she had heard of, but decided against it.
-
“Tania! It’s not funny anymore, will you just come out already?” pleaded Sawyer, but all Tania did was press her hand against her lips to stifle her laughter. She edged into a forgotten pottery stall at the very edge of the vicinity, right up against the Wall. Crawling beneath one of the tables, she leaned up against the wall, dust clinging to her clothes.
She heard footsteps approach, and she flattened herself against the wall, only to find bare space supporting her weight. She fell backwards in a cloud of cobwebs and debris.

Getting to her knees, Tania crawled through the
caved in tunnel of sorts, letting the streaks of light at the very end guide her. It took a little effort, but eventually Tania was able to exit the wall. The dank, polluted air slapped her in the face, making her eyes water.

“Who are you?”

A little boy, no older than five, looked up at Tania. He was so skinny that his cheekbones protruded from his face. His bony shoulders were clad in a heavy, pale rag caked with grime.

These were the demons everyone so feared? These were the evil things they had to keep out?

Were the walls, Tania wondered, to keep demons out, or to keep people in?

Pulling an energy bar out of her pocket, she gave it to the little boy. Desperate, he grabbed it with his tiny hands, putting in into his mouth without even unwrapping the plastic. As Tania gently took it from him and unwrapped it, she realised who the real demons were.

Not the little boy who lived outside the walls.

Not the armed troops who guarded the walls.

It was them. All of them. Every single one who had known about what laid beyond the walls but did nothing to stop the injustice.

It was them who fed those hungry demons that resided within us.

The seeds of ignorance, of greed, of evil.

They stemmed fear in everyone else but in truth, the malice grew within them all. With every selfish breath they took, every time their self-servient smiles made way to their contented plump faces. The only way, Tania knew, to not let evil triumph, was to let the demons in.

Was to share our joy, our love, our homes.

She knew it would be tough, but as she gazed upon the smiling little boy, who had only so little to smile for but had so much to share, Tania knew she would’ve done everything within her power to help people see the truth. That the demons were no different than them.

That they had to just let them in.