Categories > Original > Romance > May the Angel Spread his Wings
"Oh, but my dearest Thomas... You must not grieve over me... Such a trivial life among billions of other souls to choose from..." I speak, practicing the best depressed love tone I can muster.
"Dearest, Jacqueline... Do not speak such nonsense. I have chosen the soul I wish to cherish, and that soul is all yours. My love, so beautiful, I want you. Only you." Says Micah Teller in a loving voice, the actor of Thomas Beaumont. I suppose he is sort of cute, but Angel is the most gorgeous boy I've ever set my eyes upon.
This Micah character, I must kiss him in before my "death" in the play. He seemed much more attractive before that simple picture on the screen in my living room. Now Micah's brown eye seem less twinkly, but more boring. His hair seems more porous than luxurious. His skin looks more rough than silky. His nose now seems more like a stub on his face. How did the mere picture of a single boy change my view of Micah so drastically? I don't even know how this picture is even effecting me so much. I'm not interested in dating anyway. I'm not even sexually active. I've never had my first kiss and I've never considered anything sexual occurring in my life so soon. How is it that this one darn picture is making me question it so freakin' hard now?
"Abigail? Hello? Your line please?" My drama teacher, Mrs. Zomchek, says finally breaking me away my thoughts of the angel on T.V..
"Huh? I'm sorry Mrs. Zomchek. My kindest apologies," I do a bowing curtsy toward her. "I zoned out for a moment."
"It's okay, we all have those moments." She says with a sweet smile. She's one of those cute old ladies.
Every Friday she brings in chocolate chip cookies for the class in attempt to keep everyone enthused about the power of theater. Most of the time though the poor woman gets walked all over by the delinquents in class. I suppose they assume that because she wears tremendous amounts of floral patterns on a daily basis, that she hasn't got a back bone. However I can tell otherwise. The lines of her previous frustrations in her younger days are etched into the white skin of her face, and I know she has learned that yelling at the delinquents and sending them to the office don't do anything, because every time they come back from their journey whether it be a demerit, suspension, or detention, they still act the same as before. She has back bone because the kind old woman sits and tolerates it.
"Okay then, from the top." she says, and Micah repeats his line.
"Thomas, come to me now. I need to feel the warm embrace of you. I need to be taken by you, bear your children before I pass on lover." I whisper, trying to portray new-found hope.
"Of course my love. Lay across my bed. We will make the sweetest of love."
"And cut children! That was absolutely beautiful. We will be ready for this show in no time!" Mrs. Zomchek says and walks over to the table draped with a red plastic table cloth, grabbing a tray of cookies for us. "Here you are! For a great rehearsal!" Both of us smile and take a couple of cookies, mumbling her a soft thank you.
I walk over to an empty seat in the auditorium and sit down, looking around at the space we'll be acting on. The stage is lined with a deep blue curtain, off setting the red paint of the walls that are lined across the middle with bronze light fixtures shaped like Sea Horses, our school mascot. The seats are pretty comfortable too, made of a blue and red pinstriped velvety material, which happened to be the school colors. As I sit back in my seat I begin nibbling on the fresh, chocolate chunk, heaven. These cookies are always so great. They taste like they were made by the classic television grandmother. I wonder if Angel likes chocolate chip cookies...
****
Each step is becoming harder and harder. I haven't eaten in three days now since I've run away from Hell. I tuck my hands into my jacket pockets, staring at the old black Converse on my aching feet. I wish there weren't so many people out today, but it's a rare sunny Friday, so everyone is out catching their share of the heated rays, as sun down is only an hour away. The chatter is all so vigorous and happy. That's why no one is paying attention to me. I'm not chatting. I'm hiding my face. Being I've been gone for over two days, I know I must have been displayed on the television by now. If only December weren't 11 months away. I don't think I'll be able to withstand being out here for that long without being recognized. I'm so close yet so far away from being truly free. Just a year under being a legal adult.
As I'm walking by the school I go to, Seattle High, I catch a drift of the scent of fresh baked cookies. What I wouldn't give to sink my teeth into one right now. My stomach grumbles in protest to the emptiness. What is it oh retched stomach of mine? Your natural acid isn't good enough? I lean my back against a nearby fence and face the area of the auditorium. Just as I do, a group of students emerge holding papers and cookies in their hands. That's where that smell is coming from. One person catches my eye though. A girl. She looks a bit younger than me. She looks stunning though, even from 30 feet away. Her eyes are this piercing blue color, so bold that I have to gasp in shock that ones eyes could be so vivid. She looks like porcelain... So feminine, daisy white, and fragile... She's wearing a sundress that happens to hug her body in such a way that can clearly find that she has curves in every area a boy would drool over. And oh her hair... It's so shiny, brown but reflecting the light from the outside school lights in amazing sheen of red. She sets down her bag which looks more to me like a giant reflector, and proceeds to shrug off whatever article of clothing that is away from her shoulders, revealing her back that has a single brown freckle. How cute.
Suddenly she turns to face my direction with a huge smile on her face from something some other girl in the group said. I see her eyes looking directly at me, while her smile slowly fades away into a look of shyness, and her cheeks turn a pale red color, knowing I'm staring at her. That then changes to a different look... One of... Oh no. Recognition? She squints her eyes as if trying to get a better look and steps a little closer. I try to back up, bit the chain-link fence keeps me in one place. Oh shit! She's walking over here! I can't let myself get caught... I frown for a moment and turn away from her, and start walking briskly in the opposite direction.
"Hey, wait up! Come here please!" She shouts after me, and soon I can hear her own feet thumping on the ground as she starts running after me, as well as noticing her voice sounds very soft and dainty, with strong British accent engraved in the waves of it. God, I do not want to leave her behind like this, but I just can't risk this. At that moment, my fast paced walk turns into a dash.
"Please Angel! Please! I want to help you!" She shouts. She sounds desperate... Just ignore her... Gah! That sounds so much easier in my fucking head! My eyes begin to water slightly from the wind cutting into them and my lungs as I run on no gas. My stomach hurts...
"If you ever need anything, 1492 North Water Pine Avenue! I'll... Help... You..." She pants out and I can tell she can't go any farther, and as I keep running, I notice the thumping of her feet has stopped. I'm sorry beautiful girl... Disappearing around a corner, I drop to my knees, breathing heavily. Fuck her for making me run! I don't have the strength for this!
"Dearest, Jacqueline... Do not speak such nonsense. I have chosen the soul I wish to cherish, and that soul is all yours. My love, so beautiful, I want you. Only you." Says Micah Teller in a loving voice, the actor of Thomas Beaumont. I suppose he is sort of cute, but Angel is the most gorgeous boy I've ever set my eyes upon.
This Micah character, I must kiss him in before my "death" in the play. He seemed much more attractive before that simple picture on the screen in my living room. Now Micah's brown eye seem less twinkly, but more boring. His hair seems more porous than luxurious. His skin looks more rough than silky. His nose now seems more like a stub on his face. How did the mere picture of a single boy change my view of Micah so drastically? I don't even know how this picture is even effecting me so much. I'm not interested in dating anyway. I'm not even sexually active. I've never had my first kiss and I've never considered anything sexual occurring in my life so soon. How is it that this one darn picture is making me question it so freakin' hard now?
"Abigail? Hello? Your line please?" My drama teacher, Mrs. Zomchek, says finally breaking me away my thoughts of the angel on T.V..
"Huh? I'm sorry Mrs. Zomchek. My kindest apologies," I do a bowing curtsy toward her. "I zoned out for a moment."
"It's okay, we all have those moments." She says with a sweet smile. She's one of those cute old ladies.
Every Friday she brings in chocolate chip cookies for the class in attempt to keep everyone enthused about the power of theater. Most of the time though the poor woman gets walked all over by the delinquents in class. I suppose they assume that because she wears tremendous amounts of floral patterns on a daily basis, that she hasn't got a back bone. However I can tell otherwise. The lines of her previous frustrations in her younger days are etched into the white skin of her face, and I know she has learned that yelling at the delinquents and sending them to the office don't do anything, because every time they come back from their journey whether it be a demerit, suspension, or detention, they still act the same as before. She has back bone because the kind old woman sits and tolerates it.
"Okay then, from the top." she says, and Micah repeats his line.
"Thomas, come to me now. I need to feel the warm embrace of you. I need to be taken by you, bear your children before I pass on lover." I whisper, trying to portray new-found hope.
"Of course my love. Lay across my bed. We will make the sweetest of love."
"And cut children! That was absolutely beautiful. We will be ready for this show in no time!" Mrs. Zomchek says and walks over to the table draped with a red plastic table cloth, grabbing a tray of cookies for us. "Here you are! For a great rehearsal!" Both of us smile and take a couple of cookies, mumbling her a soft thank you.
I walk over to an empty seat in the auditorium and sit down, looking around at the space we'll be acting on. The stage is lined with a deep blue curtain, off setting the red paint of the walls that are lined across the middle with bronze light fixtures shaped like Sea Horses, our school mascot. The seats are pretty comfortable too, made of a blue and red pinstriped velvety material, which happened to be the school colors. As I sit back in my seat I begin nibbling on the fresh, chocolate chunk, heaven. These cookies are always so great. They taste like they were made by the classic television grandmother. I wonder if Angel likes chocolate chip cookies...
****
Each step is becoming harder and harder. I haven't eaten in three days now since I've run away from Hell. I tuck my hands into my jacket pockets, staring at the old black Converse on my aching feet. I wish there weren't so many people out today, but it's a rare sunny Friday, so everyone is out catching their share of the heated rays, as sun down is only an hour away. The chatter is all so vigorous and happy. That's why no one is paying attention to me. I'm not chatting. I'm hiding my face. Being I've been gone for over two days, I know I must have been displayed on the television by now. If only December weren't 11 months away. I don't think I'll be able to withstand being out here for that long without being recognized. I'm so close yet so far away from being truly free. Just a year under being a legal adult.
As I'm walking by the school I go to, Seattle High, I catch a drift of the scent of fresh baked cookies. What I wouldn't give to sink my teeth into one right now. My stomach grumbles in protest to the emptiness. What is it oh retched stomach of mine? Your natural acid isn't good enough? I lean my back against a nearby fence and face the area of the auditorium. Just as I do, a group of students emerge holding papers and cookies in their hands. That's where that smell is coming from. One person catches my eye though. A girl. She looks a bit younger than me. She looks stunning though, even from 30 feet away. Her eyes are this piercing blue color, so bold that I have to gasp in shock that ones eyes could be so vivid. She looks like porcelain... So feminine, daisy white, and fragile... She's wearing a sundress that happens to hug her body in such a way that can clearly find that she has curves in every area a boy would drool over. And oh her hair... It's so shiny, brown but reflecting the light from the outside school lights in amazing sheen of red. She sets down her bag which looks more to me like a giant reflector, and proceeds to shrug off whatever article of clothing that is away from her shoulders, revealing her back that has a single brown freckle. How cute.
Suddenly she turns to face my direction with a huge smile on her face from something some other girl in the group said. I see her eyes looking directly at me, while her smile slowly fades away into a look of shyness, and her cheeks turn a pale red color, knowing I'm staring at her. That then changes to a different look... One of... Oh no. Recognition? She squints her eyes as if trying to get a better look and steps a little closer. I try to back up, bit the chain-link fence keeps me in one place. Oh shit! She's walking over here! I can't let myself get caught... I frown for a moment and turn away from her, and start walking briskly in the opposite direction.
"Hey, wait up! Come here please!" She shouts after me, and soon I can hear her own feet thumping on the ground as she starts running after me, as well as noticing her voice sounds very soft and dainty, with strong British accent engraved in the waves of it. God, I do not want to leave her behind like this, but I just can't risk this. At that moment, my fast paced walk turns into a dash.
"Please Angel! Please! I want to help you!" She shouts. She sounds desperate... Just ignore her... Gah! That sounds so much easier in my fucking head! My eyes begin to water slightly from the wind cutting into them and my lungs as I run on no gas. My stomach hurts...
"If you ever need anything, 1492 North Water Pine Avenue! I'll... Help... You..." She pants out and I can tell she can't go any farther, and as I keep running, I notice the thumping of her feet has stopped. I'm sorry beautiful girl... Disappearing around a corner, I drop to my knees, breathing heavily. Fuck her for making me run! I don't have the strength for this!
Sign up to rate and review this story