An Angel's Emotions by Amber Marshall-Nichols (smallest ebook reader txt) 📕

¬¬An Angel’s Emotions

Prologue

The little I know about my life before death, is that the girl was never in it. Or so I’m told. I’m not really anything exactly. We’ll anything common to humans, but all the other dead are the altered as I am. I assume your eager to know where you go in the afterlife right? Well the truth is, and I’m sorry to tell you this; but only few of your souls are saved after you perish, and the vast majority of you will rot in the ground, forgotten about. For the rest of us, something in our soul manages to stay attached to the earth and regenerate into another being, that’s what mine did. I don’t know why, I don’t assume I was anything memorable.

After watching you humans, I’ve come to the conclusion that you only really believe in your God, and all the old rumoured gods and goddesses don’t seem to exist for anyone. You also believe- and my kind find this quite amusing; that some cloaked creature comes to find you when you die and chariot your soul to someplace else. In fact, when you die, you’re put in the power of Nyx. God knows how she’s in so many places at once! But yes, the goddess Nyx, whose existence so few of you believe. Now don’t be prejudiced, she doesn’t elect or nominate whose souls survive, she just guides them when the earth decides. Complicated I know, but when, and if, you ever get the privilege of meeting her, the way she explains it will be very clear to you.

So I’m dead. Kind off. Who I used to be is dead, and this is kinda vulgar, but my soul re entered a fresh corpse when it revived and I rose from the earth, to find Nyx waiting for me above ground. Man was she beautiful! And Naked! Freaky or what? She explained to me pretty much the same thing that I have you, but with a lot more meaningful babble and elaborate sentences. Moving on from that she gave me the ‘why you belong speech’, which was to me, a load of bull shark, because I didn’t understand a single word she said. I’m guessing I wasn’t too intelligent before I died- Oh, and if your wondering why I say “before I died” rather than “the accident” or something, it’s because I wasn’t allowed to know, I’m still not allowed to know. Anything. Not who my family were, where I came from, my own name, nothing! I had to manufacture a whole new existence. So I suppose this is the part where I reveal a little more about myself, rather than my history. My name is Teddy. Teddy Laxett.

Chapter One- Fallen Angel.

One thing I do know is that I died around fifteen, and luckily my body appears to look around that age too. I wonder what I looked like before? The best way to describe what we are would be to call me a fallen angel. During the daytime I could easily pass for human, I look perfectly normal, legs, arms, mouth nose ETC, in sunlight anyway. In moonlight however, a sort of transformation occurs, I suppose you could compare it to that of a werewolf. Well actually it’s nothing like that, A.) It’s completely pain free, B.) I don’t become totally hairy and howl at the moon! That would be absurd. C.) We can keep control of our humanity, or whatever you call your personality once you’re dead?

A complex way of putting it would be to say only our appearance changes. Our eyes become wider and exceptionally brighter, my grey blue colour becoming the most exquisite, vibrant, electric blue! They become so metallic that we all stop and stare at each other every night to gawk at the amazing new colours. Stunned every time.
As well as this, our bodies tone, making each of us bulky and muscular, in order to support the weight of wait for it. our WINGS. Big black handsome things, erupting from the centre of our spine!

Each of us has a different feather pattern. Mine for example, are more grey than black, and each individual feather are small and plump, almost tear shaped, and each one glitters in the day-dreamy light. These unique feathers, bound- create a breathtaking canvas either side of me. I need not be modest, but it’s hard to believe they’re really mine! There are also other very subtle changes, like our lips becoming plumper and redder, and our hair dramatically shined, and bouncy. But enough about me, more about HER!

So there’s one thing I forgot to mention about my kind. We feed on humans. I’m guessing your probably sitting there all grossed out and some automatic thing has clicked inside your brain, like a light bulb, and you suddenly think “Oh my god, he’s a vampire!” But no. I’m afraid I’m no sexy Robert Pattinson. We don’t feed on a human’s blood, we feed off your energy, and yes, your strength is drained just like it would be if we were to drink your blood, but we try to take little drinks at a time on several people, so not to weaken an individual. The effects? Make us stronger, and I guess you could compare it to getting high.

It was late November when I first saw her. I was lingering around the Brighton shopping centre, cruising swiftly through the heavy crowds of people, and taking intakes of breath (that’s all it takes to feed), grinning widely, and pulling faces at the passers by, who did I mention- cannot see me! The only way I can communicate with humans is either through the mind, or to appear in their dreams, which would be uncomfortable, difficult, and stupid! So yes, I was breathing in, happy and contented, when I heard shouting. Male and female voices were increasing in volume, the girl’s voice scared, and the boy’s angered. I felt unusually curious, and followed the voices, to find a boy about eighteen wrestling with a younger girl. His hands were clasped tightly around her wrists, locking her there, causing her wrists to go white where the pressure spread. Tears bucketed down her cheeks, rolling down her face briskly as she begged him to let go.

“How could you do this to me?” the boy spat.
“I, I, I.” the girl struggled for words and cringed away from the boy’s bared teeth. He was breathing heavily, taking uneven breaths. The girl was irresponsive for quite a while before he became angered again.
“AWNSER ME!” he commanded, releasing her wrists and shaking her body instead.
“I didn’t do anything,” she stammered, closing her eyes.
“Tell the truth god damn it!” the boy roared slamming the girl against the wall, so she banged her head against it with great force. She withered to the ground, and sat studying her partner. The boy towered over her shrivelled up body, his hands on his hips.
“Get up” he said. She obeyed, struggling to rise to her feet. He pushed her back against the wall so that their faces were only inches apart.
“Now tell the truth!” The girl breathed deeply for a few seconds, before answering through gritted teeth.
“I never cheated on you, but why should I love you when you treat me like this!”
“Because” then he kissed her, fiercely, and at first she struggled. Then seemed to melt into to kiss. I registered something in her eyes that told me; somehow she knew she was being watched, which urged her to continue. I think.

As his hands swept over her body, I felt uncomfortably hot, and a bubbling heat welled up inside me. It was a new feeling.
Nyx had told us few of us would ever feel emotion bar the complex ones like happiness and desire. But I was definitely unhappy to see him kissing her, what was that word again? Jealousy? Yes, for the first time, I experienced the emotion jealousy.
To someone I didn’t know, and someone I knew nothing about.

Almost like a reflex to the new feeling, I flung myself inside his head, and felt his body jerk away from hers, in which time she acted, kneeing him in the groin then running back into the crowd. Before I followed her I sent a quick message to the guy “Stay away from her” I’d hissed.
Then looked for her amongst the crowd of heaving people.
I found her easily though, only listening for the agonised sobs she released.

I followed those sobs into the girl’s toilets, She was kneeling, warm clear tears forming a puddle at her knees, and she was dabbing too quickly at her wet eyes that the tissue broke and fell like snow around her in a whirlpool. Her eyes themselves were puffy and red, smears of black around them where her make up had run. Her nose was red too as she sniffed back another wail, and her hair stuck on ends like she’d been dragged through a bush backwards. She still looked beautiful.

I hadn’t noticed before, until she looked down. I’d followed her gaze, to meet it, then looked swiftly back down. There, on the lap of her orange dress, sharp and clean, was an army knife. I was just backing away from the door when she spoke my thoughts aloud.
“I know, what kind of girl carries around a knife!” she’d mumbled, before fluently retrieving the knife, and slashing it against her wrist. I cringed away as I heard her raise the blade for the second time, but barely heard her whimper, when I finally turned back to her, she’d cut again, and again, until now, when the blood oozed from the wound and dribbled down her palm like honey being squeezed from a bottle. Clotting in the corners. Her face was expressionless as she studied her work, twisting her wrist back and forth in the lighting, watching the liquid dance down her arm. The crimson colour of the blood reflected in my eyes as I experienced yet another emotion that day. I was angry with her, i’d inflicted pain upon another being in order to prevent her from harm, and in turn, she thrust it upon herself.

I reached out to her and her head snapped up automatically.
“Who’s there?” she shouted.
“Don’t be afraid” I whispered, knowing perfectly well she couldn’t hear me, but wishing she could. She hurried to her feet, slipping the knife back into her purse, having cleaned it, then tucked her knotted honeycomb hair behind her ears. She took a deep breath, and then unlocked the cubicle door, re entering the real world. She headed over to the sink, and shoved her wrist under the running water, biting her lip as she watched the last traces of blood trickle away, leaving a series of small scars. When she looked in the mirror, I saw something yet again in her eyes, like she’d seen my reflection. She quickly whirled round to simply look straight past me, and then stalked out of the bathroom.

I knew I shouldn’t have continued to follow her, to stalk her. But I did. I trailed her home that night, and watched as she frequently peeked over her shoulder as she unlocked the door of her house. I suddenly realised how weak she’d become, and remembered how much energy I drank from her without thinking. I decided it’d be best if I leave.