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The Fallen Angel
When people think “fallen angel” they think of someone wonderful and charming. A fallen angel is the complete opposite of those stereotypical ideas. They lead you on and tell you sweet things that make your shiver. Words you want to hear, they say them. Promises you can’t believe but wish you could… they say those as well. They are not god come to Earth, but quite the contrary. These so called “angels” are the reincarnation of the devil himself.
His blonde hair, his blue eyes, they draw me in. His hair the color of spun gold looks so soft. His eyes are so deep they seem to have no end. I look sincerely in them and I swear… I could see pain. I gaze at his face, and there lies only anger. Though the pools of clear blue that are posed right where his eyes should be show depression and betrayal, the lines of irritation and disgust are the only things that is noticed by other people. He is the typical fallen angel.
He glares at me, and with his voice hard he speaks. “ You don’t deserve me. You are nothing but a parasite.” His face was hateful but his eyes were screaming words of regret.
“What have I done? What could I have possibly done to deserve this?” My voice shakes as I try to keep calm. My eyes start to fill with wet, stinging tears. I rub my eyes nonchalantly. He will not see me cry.
He hesitates, almost as if he wishes to achieve something other than this. “You befriended my sister. You admitted to having feelings for me. And, last of all…” At this point he stutters. “You were born.”
“I gave you every chance to chose what was important. You chose to worry about how pretty the girl you fall for is. Also, you chose to worry about popularity instead of personality. I care about you now, and I will 3 years from now. Goodbye. Forever.”
I turned and left him standing mouth agape. I start to run although I hate too. The waiting tears start to flow like soldiers ordered to march ahead. I fall to the ground a mile later gasping for air. My chest felt as though it was being ripped out. My knees are brought to my body as I collapse. The last thing I see before I faded into unconsciousness was his face, Chase’s face. Was he really there or was I just imagining something incredible that could never be?
I can’t believe I have to do this? You don’t have to. You could tell her how you really feel. She’s not right for me, my friends don’t think she’s pretty, she’s not popular, and she’s to smart. You like her because she’s smart, you can make her popular and YOU think she’s gorgeous. I don’t want to do this…
Her hair is the color of coffee. Not the stale, disgusting colored coffee. No. It’s the color of a hazelnut chocolate blend. It’s shiny, soft, and looks perfect on her. He hazel eyes are bright and telling. As I look fondly into her eyes I see she’s scared and hurt, but I also see hope. I cover my wounded feelings with a mask of hate and disgust. She stills seems to trust in me when I can’t trust myself.
I glare at her and harden my voice. It kills me to do this to her but it is necessary. “ You don’t deserve me. You are nothing but a parasite.” I want to scream as I say this. I know it hurts her.
She tries to hide how much this wounds her. I glimpse tears in those trusting orbs of hazel colored glory. “What have I done? What could I have possibly done to deserve this?” It’s barley a whisper but I can hear the unsteadiness in her beautiful voice.
I hesitate, for I am at a loss for words. She didn’t do anything to deserve this. If she were telling me this I would know exactly what I did. I was stuck-up and shallow. I consider ending this and wrapping her in my arms and apologizing to her. I must do this. You don’t have to. All you must do is tell her the truth and take care of her. ARHH! I keep arguing with myself.
“You befriended my sister. You admitted to having feelings for me. And, last of all… You were born.” It was excruciating for me to utter those words. I looked from her heartbreakingly sad/beautiful face.
She went from depressed and scared to disgust and anguish. Her voice went cold and radiated pain. “I gave you every chance to chose what was important. You chose to worry about how pretty the girl you fall for is. Also, you chose to worry about popularity instead of personality. I care about you now, and I will 3 years from now. Goodbye. Forever.”
My mouth dropped with the dagger-like pain that goes along with a shattering heart. With those last 2 words. She turned and walked away. After about 10-15ft she takes off running. That’s it I’ve got to tell her the truth. That I love her so much it hurts. About time you figured out that’s all you had to do. I take off after her. I worry she’s going to hurt herself. After about a mile of catching up to her, what I feared came to pass. Her breaths came in short, strained gasps. She fell to the ground in a crumpled heap. Her asthma flared really badly for her to hit the dirt that stiff.
I finally reach her crippled body. I think, and hope, she saw me because she smiled that warm and loving smile. As I take her shaking body into my protective arms she faints. I take her to the hospital and hold her hand hoping for once she won’t see me as the horrible fallen angel I am. But for the kind, and hurt boy I really am.