My Demons Your Angels

8/8/2019 My Demons Your Angels

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My Demons Your Angels

Chapter One

I rolled over and pulled my pillow close to me not much unlike a child with a teddy bear

when they’re scared. I’d been lying in my bed for what seemed like ages, waiting for my iPod to kickstart my day. I was actually exhausted and wanted nothing more that to sleep all day, never mind

get up for college, but I was too scared to close my eyes. Scared of what I might see, this was the

fourth dream to keep me awake all hours of the night this week, and the sleep deprivation was

beginning to show in my eyes. Thank god for concealer I though.

As the sound of Katy Perry filled my ears with Fireworks from within my iPod, I pulled back

my quilt and sat up unenthusiastically. It was November and the chill in the morning air made me

shiver, I wrapped my warm soft pink dressing gown around me and made my way downstairs for

some well needed caffeine.

The smell of breakfast eggs and fresh coffee filled my nostrils as I walked up the hallway and

entered the kitchen. “Good Morning Hun!” Mom said from her cosy spot squeezed in-between the

kitchen table and the hot radiator. It looked like she’d opted for porridge, “Morning, something

wrong with Dads eggs?” I asked pointing at her bowl. “Oh no Hunny, not at all, it’s just a cold

morning and I needed something to warm me up is all!” “Oh good I could use the protein, are there

any left for me Dad?” I asked, “Of course Hunny, on the stove!” He replied without even looking up

from his morning paper. “Are you not feeling well Abi?” Mom enquired with a worried look on her

face, “Yes I’m ok I’m just not sleeping much at the moment”. I didn’t want to tell her that I was lying

awake every night because I was scared of a silly dream at the age of 17. “Do you want me to book

you an appointment with the doctor Hun?” “No its ok Mom I’m just a bit tired, nothing a few eggswont sort out!” and I smiled at her reassuringly.

My parents, or more accurately my adoptive parents, are kind loving people who’d do

anything for anyone. There’re both teachers at our local primary school. My Dad Colin teaches year

five and my Mom Sandra teaches year one. They both love their jobs immensely and have always

been brilliant with children; they both have a way of being able to get the best out of them. I

remember from my own childhood how my mother would spend hours making things with me out

of glue glitter and card. Even though she hated how the glue would ruin her nails and the glitter

would go everywhere, she did it anyway because she knew how much I enjoyed it. My dad would

spend hours reading stories to me of fairy princesses and long forgotten castles in enchantedforests, they captivated my imagination for hours and have always stuck with me since.

I’ve known for as long as I can remember that I was adopted, that’s one thing that I love

about my parents, they have always been completely open and honest with me. They have never

kept anything from me and I firmly believe that this is why we have such a solid relationship. My

biological parents died in a car crash when I was only 2 years old, and I had no remaining blood

relatives left to take care of me. So I was adopted just a few short months later by Colin and Sandra

White, two young and successful teachers with good prospects, who had unsuccessfully tried for

years to conceive a child of their own.



For my parents I was quite literally a gift from god, or at least that’s what they say. For me,

they saved me from what could possibly have been a very lonely and damaging upbringing within

child services, being passed from one foster home to another like a second hand piece of furniture.

They have given me a good solid education and thought me honest home grown values. Love thy

neighbour, never speak ill of the dead, always help the old lady across the road and always make

sure you have milk and sugar for tea, because you never know when a friend might need a hearty

cup of tea and a shoulder to cry on.

My Mother is slender but short at only five foot three inches, she has curly mouse brown

hair which she always wears pinned back on each side with jewelled slides. She’s blue eyed with a

warming smile which could melt your heart and a soft welcoming look about her face. My Father is

much taller than my mother, at six foot one inch he towers over her. She always has to stand on her

tip toes so that she can reach his lips for a kiss. My Fathers always clean shaven with a school boy

parting and has a rectangular chiselled face and dark hair. He always wears a shirt and jacket but

never a tie; he says they are far too formal and intimidating and he prefers to look smart but

approachable.

We all sat in silence around the kitchen table with our breakfast and coffee for a while. My

Father immersed in his paper, my Mother intent on scrutinizing me to make sure I was in fact ok,

and myself still pondering my awful dreams. The latest of which had really scared me, they were

always the same or very similar and always ended with my death. They first started a few months

ago as nothing more than a dream that I would recall in the morning when I go up. However lately

especially over the last few weeks they have felt different, they feel wrong. They have felt more

vivid, more real, and scarier than before. To the point where they are waking me up at all hours of

the night, and then feeling too strung out and frightened I can’t get back to sleep. It’s utterly

ridiculous that I should feel this way at 17, I’m fully aware that dreams are not real. However these

dreams have had me on edge for the last few weeks, and I’m now feeling the effects of some serious

sleep deprivation.

I finished of my eggs and toast, knocked back the last few dregs of coffee and took my things

over to the sink to wash up. “Leave that Hunny I’ll do it, you go get ready for college!” Mom said,

“Are you sure? I don’t mind?” “Yes of course its fine” she said smiling. I went into the bathroom to

wash my face and clean my teeth; then I arranged my hair into an untidy bun on top of my head to

do my makeup. I used a little foundation and concealer, paying particular attention to the dark bags

that were now forming under my eyes. Followed by my favourite dusty pink eye shadow, black

mascara and pale rose lip gloss; then sweeping a little blusher over my cheeks to finish off. I have

never been one to use much makeup; I am utterly useless at applying it. Less it more I always think,

or at least that’s my excuse!

I let down my light brown hair which naturally fell into big lose curls around my shoulders,

and tucked the right side behind my ear. I’m of average height and build for my age; I have bright

blue eye and a small button nose. My complexion is pale and my lips are delicately shaped and

faintly pink. My check bones appear soft but prominent, owing to the fact that I always look ever so

slightly blushed. Apart from the few freckles, which were annoyingly spread across the bridge of my

nose, giving me a somewhat child like appearance. And the oddly shaped birth mark on the right

hand side of my neck, I was entirely happy with my appearance.



Noticing the time I went back to my room to dress, I only had ten minutes before I had to

leave to meet Lucy. I grabbed a pair of jeans, my grey hoodie and Uggs and dressed quickly. I

scooped my college bag up off the floor and checked I had everything I needed, and then quickly

scanned my room for anything out of place and heading downstairs.

My room was small and simply arranged with a single bed, a bedside table, a dressing table,

and a built in wardrobe. My bed was against the far wall which also housed the window. I liked it

there as it allowed me to stare out the window at night, and watch the stars twinkle and wink at me

as I fall asleep. Between the top of my bed and the door of my wardrobe lived my bedside table,

which housed my reading lamp and alarm clock. My dressing table was on the opposite wall and had

three small draws on either end, which I used for my cosmetics and hair accessories. On top of my

dressing table was my laptop, printer, another small lamp and lots of paper. Or stuff I otherwise

referred to as my college work. My room was decorated in pale pink and lilac floral wallpaper, with

matching curtains and bedspread. As I looked around the room now I realised that it hadn’t been

redecorated since I was at least 9 years old, but I liked it so I imagine it will stay this was for a few

years more at least.

The kitchen had already been cleaned spotless by the time I got back down stairs, and my

parents were getting ready to leave themselves. “I’m off then, I’ll see you later!” and I gave them

both a kiss. “Ok Hunny, have a good day!” they said “You too!” I replied as I stepped out into a

rather chilly November morning. It was two days till fireworks days and as I trudged up the street I

noticed a small group of children, they couldn’t have been any older than 10. It looked as though

they’d managed to get hold of some sparklers already. I was just grateful that’s all they’d got their

hands on, you hear of far too many horrible accident involving fireworks at this time of year.

There was a big fireworks display at Kenilworth Castle on Saturday night and Jason, my

boyfriend, had got us, my best friend Lucy and her boyfriend Pete tickets to go. The four of us were

going in Jason’s car which I’d been told was a Honda CR-Z. Jason and I had only recently started

dating, and this would be the first time that he would be taking me anywhere in his car. Up until a

few months ago he was completely inseparable from his twin brother Dean. No one is entirely sure

of what happened; it was quite mysterious really, all we know is that Dean was in a tragic accident

and died. There was no formal funeral or announcement, and there was nothing in the papers

either. The family said they wanted to keep it a personal affair, and respectfully asked for people to

leave the family alone to grieve in private. Everyone thought it very strange at the time, particularly

considering Jason’s farther is a high powered local MP with a seat in parliament. B ut since Jason and

Dean always kept themselves to themselves, and had no real friends of their own, nobody at college

asked any questions.

Imagine my surprise less than a week or so after the incident, when Jason finally asked me

out. I’d been admiring him for a while, but being a little shy myself I had never plucked up the

courage to ask him out. Plus both Jason and he late brother had this puzzling reputation for being a

bit weird and strange. I have no idea where this reputation had come from; there was no evidence

from what I knew of to suggest that they were either weird or strange. Quiet perhaps, but that was

all, actually from what I’ve learnt of Jason over the last few months he seems perfectly normal. Even

though we have spent quite some time together since we started dating, and we’d gotten to know

each other quite well, I still felt uncomfortable whenever the subject of Dean came up. It was clear



from the way Jason would curl up within himself whenever he heard his brother’s name that he was

not ready to talk about him. So I left the subject alone, out of respect for Jason and his family.

As I walked up the road my feet carried me without thinking about it, I’d made this journey

to Lucy’s house so many times before. We lived in a small village called The Mount; the streets were

lined with identical house after identical house, all with perfectly manicured front gardens and

driveways. If you had not grown up in the village like Lucy and I had you were bound to get lost.

Every road looked the same as the next with only a few minor differences. Such as an extra window

on the top floor of a house, which meant it had four bedrooms and not three. Or the conversion of

the downstairs front room window, from its original floor to ceiling window, to a bay window. Or

perhaps the owners had added a front porch or an apex roof to the garage.

Its nearest town is Solihull about four or five miles away. We have our own post office and

off license, a newsagent and hair dressers. And for some very strange reason I don’t know, a shop

which sells Kitchens. I have no idea how it manages to pull in much trade, but it’s been there for a

fair few years now, so must be doing reasonably well. Oh and one mustn’t forget the local pub more

commonly known as The Saxon. These few shops are located on the main trough road of the village,

and are ingeniously referred to by the locals as The Shops. This always makes me laugh as whenever

anyone is asked where they off to today, or what they have planed, you can bet your bottom dollar

they are off to The Shops.

The Mount is surrounded by farm land, so if you are a dog owner or a 10 year old boy, or an

elderly couple looking for somewhere quite and quaint the place is just perfect. It also has its very

own primary school so it’s popular with parents of younger children. It has a low crime rate if one at

all, which is both boring and exciting at the same time. Whenever something does go awry all the

locals start their incessant gossiping, creating a buzz which seems to radiate throughout the whole

village. However if you are a 17 year old teenager like myself it’s more like a prison in the middle of

the country side, with little or no way out most of the time. We do have one bus service to the

village which comes ever 30 minutes, so it’s highly frustrating if you miss your bus. As you then end

up having to wait another half an hour or so for the next one. Not that they have a habit of being on

time anyway.

As I automatically made my journey to Lucy’s house, I began to sieve trough the images of

the latest dream to keep me up all hours of the night.

*

The forests floor was covered in soft brilliant white powdery snow. I knew the air should’ve

felt cold against my exposed bare skin but I was oddly warm, as though the sun was beating down its

summery July rays. Yet the sun was completely hidden behind the snow swollen clouds that stretched

across the greyish white skies.

Barefoot I turned on the spot with my arms lankly stretched out so my finger tips brushed the

ends of the nearest trees, as I slowly twirled to take in my surroundings. I wore a white strapless

gown which gently bustled out at the waist like a big church bell; the bodice was covered in glitter

which brightly sparkled against the brilliant white snow and my pearly alabaster skin. My white hair

swayed in big long curls down my back and in between my wings as I glanced up at the skies lovingly.



The beauty of the earth always takes my breath away every time I come to visit. You’d have

thought after so many visits recently I’d have gotten used to it, yet every time I come I have to spend

a moment or two consuming its beauty in every detail. I can feel the wintery wonderland teaming

with life from every nook and cranny, every insect, every mouse, every squirrel, every bird that are

hidden away. I can feel them breath, I can hear their tiny hearts beat slowly as they hibernate and

wait for the harsh beatings of the winter’s rage to pass. God truly created a par adise to match his

own, if only the humans could see it the way we did. I saw it through their eyes once long ago and I

would not want to again.

I stretched out my strong feathered wings which took up most of the space in the clearing

and took in one last deep breath of the earth’s immense beauty; before I moved on to find him. My

Jason, my beautiful Jason, how I longed for him, to hold him tight, to gently kiss his soft warm lips

and feel the beating of his human heart as it raced against my angelic one. It had been far too long

since my last visit with him, but I needed to be quick, before he found I was missing, before he

summoned me back, before he realised who I have come to see. Jason is forbidden now and I would

be punished if he found out.

Jason should be here in the forest, I felt his presence here. His kind and considerate loving

presences right here in the woods, but I could not see him now. I took another moment or two to

breathe in the forests life and concentrated hard to find him. There were so many beating hearts

hidden away, it was difficult to separate them from one another. I closed my eyes and concentrated

harder, and then there he was, only it felt different, it felt cold, it felt dark and alone. I felt it touch me

like it had done so many times before, I know it so well, yet this was not the way I remembered it.

I moved quickly but carefully towards him gently sweeping past the old ancient trees that

stood in my path, but trying not to damage any of the forests life. As I moved closer to Jason I began

to feel more panicked, something was not right. Something was very wrong but I could not work out

what it was. The warmth of life that I’d felt when I arrived, that I always feel here on earth, was

slowly diminishing the closer I moved towards Jason. As the forests life slowly died from around me

as I moved forward, so did I. With each little light that was extinguished within the dark black cloud I

could feel myself rushing into, so did a part of my angelic spirit. Like a thousand bee stings against

my heart I felt their lives go out, and it was agony in my chest.

Then it hit me a solid wall of ice cold fear and hatred. No love, no compassion, no kindness,

just pure evil hatred. It circled the entire clearing and there standing deathly still in the centre was

Jason. “JASON!” I yelled, but nothing, no glimmer of recognition, “JASON!” I yelled again but still

nothing. I felt a single tear roll down my cheek as I desperately tried to reach out to him. Every fibre

of my body was telling me not to enter the circle, telling me that death waited on the other side of

this invisible ice cold wall. But I would not leave Jason, I would never leave him, my heart bled for him

as I know his did for me.

I slowly put one barefoot through the invisible wall after the other and stood there on the

other side with Jason’s back to me. “Jason, please come with me it’s not safe here!” I gently said. “I

cannot Abigail ; I cannot come with you anymore!” His voice sounded harsh and scratchy, as though it

was restricted by a sharp blade of steel and had to claw its way past. It was a complete contrast to

the warm, soft, calming voice I was so used to hearing pass by his soft supple lips. I pleaded with him



again, “Jason please come with me, there is nothing but evil here and it will consume you if you don’t

come with me!” “ No Abigail , I cannot!” he replied.

I moved slowly towards Jason’s back but with each step towards him I felt cold hatred

stabbing at my heart, I placed my hand over my chest to protect it but with little effect. As I

approached Jason, I lifted my arm out to him. Tears of pain rolled down over my cheeks before

silently dripping from my chin; I drew in on Jason and placed my hand on his hard ice cold shoulder.

He did not move but simply said, “Abigail you should not have come!” in that same scratchy

voice. Then suddenly without warning he spun round fast and grabbed my wrist. His grip was

unnaturally strong and then I saw his face, it was not my Jason, it was a monster, it was Jason’s face

but it was not him. The monsters piercingly deep red soulless eyes stared straight into mine, his razor

sharp fangs lusting for my blood. He grabbed me around the waist and forced me to the ground with

all his weight, I couldn’t move frozen in fear as he lay on top of me. My usually strong wings were

outstretched on the cold floor either side of me, but I still had no strength to force him off. Then it

was too late, I felt his deathly fangs piercing the nape of my neck. I felt the warm blood gently

trickling down my shoulder and then I heard it dripping to the forest floor, like a slowly leaking tap

where it stained the brilliant white snow.

*

There were many disturbing factors in the dream, apart from the obvious one that

apparently my boyfriend, Jason, was some kind of monster intent on killing me. The first was that

clearly Jason was not the only one to appear not as they should. My own appearance was a little

unusual; because unless I was very much mistaken it would appear that I was some kind of angel in

the dream. Then there was my strange behaviour and ability to feel the life around me and not justsee it. There was also this mysterious being that I seemed to both respect and fear at the same time.

But it was that invisible ice cold dark black cloud of fear and evil that really had me rattled, because

out of everything it was that that always remained the same, and always felt the most real to me. It

was that feeling that lingered on long after I had woken up. It was that feeling that was getting

stronger every time I had a dream. And it was that feeling that I could still feel even now, as though

it was watching me and following me closely as I made my way round to Lucy’s house.



Chapter Two

“Hey you look like you’ve seen a ghost” Lucy said startling me as she walked across her front

garden. “Oh hey, no, no ghosts” I said with a little forced laugh. “It’s just these dreams!” I admitted.

Lucy was the only one I had told about the dreams I’d been having. “What was this one about?” she

asked. Lucy had sounded genuinely interested in my latest dream, something which I was slightly

confused about. Lately it had seemed as though she was actually getting bored of hearing me talk

about it, but I gratefully told her all I could remember as we walked round to the bus stop anyway.

Lucy was around the same height as me only slimmer, she has strawberry blonde hair which was

straight all the way to the middle of her back. She wore it pinned into a quiff on top with the rest

swishing from side to side down her back as she walked. Her face was covered in freckles which gave

her the appearance of being quite tanned from a distance; she had glistening green eyes and thinpink lips.

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My Demons Your Angels