Gone with an Angel Two

"Krissy!" Shaylee pounced on my bed, remaining still for just a moment before sliding off to jump on me again. Ah, the new morning routine. Of all the things I missed about Shaylee, I can't say the way she woke me up was one.

"Shay," I sighed at her, pulling the plush white pillows over my head and kicking my legs, trying to divert her.

"Krissy, it is one o'clock in the afternoon, and mommy says you need to get up, now," she whined, I could picture the pout on her face and everything. Reluctantly, I threw the covers off of me and slowly slid out of bed, feet first.

I peaked my eyes out to catch a glance at a giggly Shaylee bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. "Why so excited?"

"Dance recital!" She shouted, before turning out of the room. I heard her sing song voice mumbling "in two hours, in two hours," like a mantra as she skipped out of the room.

I cursed under my breath before standing up and glancing in the mirror. Shaylee and I were in the same dance class, which meant we both had a dance recital in two hours. How could I forget?

"Well if it isn't Kris, done hibernating so soon?" My mother scolded as I walked into the kitchen for breakfast...or lunch. Even as she scolded I could hear the smile in her voice, and I knew she'd never be mad at me. After all, how could you be mad at the daughter who brought you back to life, reunited your family, and gave up love for?

We were all more like best friends, with hardly any fights. We knew what it was like to lose one another, what life was like without each other, and no way were we going back.

I walked into the kitchen, kissed my mother's cheek, and went to the pantry to grab a box of Honey Nut Cheerio's. I propped up in the tall iron spinning chairs next to the island in the center of the kitchen and began eating, looking up at my mother standing by the stove.

"You know, you and your sister have a-" my mother started.

"Dance recital, in-" I tried to finish her sentence, and then Shaylee finished mine, popping in the room with her mantra.

"In two hours!" She giggled, and my mother and I couldn't help but smile. Shaylee was like a great orb of sunshine, practically anything she did brought a smile to any ones face.

Shaylee was already dressed and ready to go. She wore a tight sparkly pearl bodice connected to a hot pink shining tutu. A white and pink polka dotted bow wound around her slender waist, knotted into a bow on her right hip. The tutu stopped at about half her thigh, revealing her long outstretched pale legs, until her legs turned into feet of course. She had lovely valentine pink ballet slippers on, strands weaving around her ankles, her toes in perfect point. Her golden blond hair was twisted into a delicate bun on top her head with a pink flower spotted head band to help hold her hair in place.

She was definitely beautiful, even at age thirteen, you cold tell the years would only favor her. My mother, at age forty, was still beautiful.

"Krissy, you need to get dressed," Shaylee demanded politely, flashing a smile no one could resist.

Just like James...

I shook the thought from my mind and glanced at the clock. "I still have an hour and a half."

"But I want you to, please," she drew out the word please, making it seem like a five hundred letter word. She sighed, took a deep breath, and started again.

Smiling, I knew she wasn't going to shut up until I agreed. I decided to let her waste her breath through three more excruciatingly long "pleases."

"Oh, all right, for you," I sighed in defeat, acting like I was doing her a big favor. Shaylee screamed  a noise resembling "eeep" and grabbed my hand, pulling me off of the bar stool.

Shaylee ran, dragging me along behind her, until we came to the room we shared. She stopped in front of our shared closet, pulling open it's large wardrobe doors. Inside, an identical outfit to Shaylee's was hanging in a black bag to prevent wrinkles.

She stared at me expectantly,waiting for me to grab onto it and start dressing. I did as her eyes told me, and she smiled.

Once I was dressed, I stood side by side with her in the mirror. I stood about a foot taller than her, but we resembled each other in many ways. We both had an identical small upturned nose, paired by two sky blue eyes. My hair was slightly duller than hers, and more wavy. She had bright shining yellow hair curled in every strand. I stared in the mirror and watched as Shaylee's mouth dropped into an "O."

Turning away from the mirror I crouched down to face her eye to eye.

"What's with the face?"

"You're so pretty," she said to me, her lips still hanging in an "O" formation.

"Not as pretty as you!" I said, poking her nose and smiling at her. Before she could say another word, I scooped her up in my arms and carried her squirmy body, dropping her on the couch in our room.

She laughed hard, already knowing what was coming as I lowered my hands to her stomach, starting to tickle her.

"Kris!" She shouted between breaths and chuckles. "I don't want you to rip the fabric!"

At that I stopped, giving in to her logic. While I knew she said it to stop me from tickling, I also knew how heart broken and upset she'd be if the fabric did tear.

Gathering her breath, she hopped off of the sofa and patted down her hair and dress. Smiling, she stuck out her tongue and pranced out of the room before I could catch her.

"Girls, we should get going," my mom said, apparently projecting her voice from the kitchen.

"Coming!" I shouted with one last glance in the mirror.

Shaylee slid into the back seat of my mom's new Kia Sorento and I slid into the passenger seat. We were at the dance studio in less than five minutes.

As always, Shaylee took the lead, grabbing my hand and running into the back door of the dance studio. Right after having kissed my mom's cheek and promising we would do our best and smile directly at her in the audience.

We had made it just in time, I could tell by the already roudy crowd awaiting behind the enormous curtain coating the wooden smooth stage.

Our new instructor, no longer our mom, directed us to stand in our positions. She didn't make us wear make up, apparently we both had a natural beauty. As if.

The music played, the curtain lifted, and spot lights hit us spot on. So bright and gleaming it obscured the view of the entire darkened audience, usually for about the first five minutes of dance.

 I went along with routine, smile here, twirl here, bend here, the usual drill. Simply losing myself in the music and beat of the dance, when I turned my head to smile at the audience like was expected, I saw something strange.

My eyes probed the audience in search for my mother like they usually did, but first they landed on a brown headed guy with a hint of a smile stuck on his face. I tried to see more in the darkness of the room, when I remembered I was supposed to be dancing.

Luckily, I hadn't thrown every one of yet, and I fit right back into the symphony of the other ballet dancers, trying to push aside the image of that guy, while wondering why I was still thinking about him anyways.

The dance ended, we curtsies, hopped behind the corner, and waited until the applause and the other lights kicking on while the spot lights turned off.

Shaylee and I met up with our mom, who congratulated us, and then went back to the car. Another normal day for our family.

Except it wasn't.