Her daughter was asleep. She peered carefully into her scratched-up face. Only strong herbs mixed with wine would calm her poor girl, ever since the demon had taken hold of her. Her sweet, loving, obedient daughter, the pride of the family and the village, had become hateful, violent, and abusive overnight.
They had chained her daughter to the bed to keep her from destroying every item in the house. She had broken half their pottery and torn their linens to shreds. She spewed vicious hatred from her mouth, and her eyes were wild with turbulence. They swaddled her hands so she would stop tearing at her own flesh.
A memory floated back: when her daughter was a newborn, she had fashioned tiny mittens to prevent her little fingernails from scratching her baby face. Oh, those days were long gone. Sorrow and desperation welled up in her spirit. She missed her girl terribly, and feared that the demon would kill her daughter unless she got help. She had to find healing, and she needed it now!
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