Ended up writing about the demon deciding to raise the child instead of showing the actual raising.
Her hair was black as a starless night, eyes a blazing, molten gold. The laugh lines around her mouth indicated years gone by, years of laughter. They wondered what she’d found so amusing.
Ari knew she was dreaming. She could feel the sun warming her skin, the breeze carrying the scent of lavender. She was in a field, where a young girl, who looked as though she were about fourteen, danced. The girl could not see Ari, but Ari watched her curiously. This was a new dream, she knew for sure, as it was unlike any she’d had before. The girl danced, and Ari noted that she wasn’t particularly good, but she looked content. Then the girl began to sing, and her voice wasn’t particularly strong either, but she seemed happy. Ari could feel herself smiling. It was a pleasant dream, she thought.
After a while, other girls began to appear in the field. They all looked to be about the same age as the first girl, and they were all lovely. One began to sing, and her voice was wonderful. The first girl stopped singing, looking quite sad. Another began to dance, and her body moved fluidly through the field, her dance a story of the world. The first girl stopped dancing, her head bowing low. The other girls carried on, one painting a perfect replica of the landscape, one writing in a small journal, one lie in the tall grass and stared at the sky, two seemed to be putting on a sort of play, one strummed softly on a lyre, and the last recited a poem to no one in particular. The first girl fell to her knees and sobbed. The other nine girls paid her no mind and went about their business.
Ari frowned. Her heart broke for the girl. She attempted to walk toward her, but found that she could not move. Her body was paralyzed. She wanted to yell out, to tell the girl that it was alright, but when she tried to step forward again, she felt herself being pulled back.