Angelic (Book 2)

Eleven

She was the last person I wanted to see. Passing out for me was a common occurrence in my life, unfortunately, and I missed the days when my twin wasn’t waiting on the other side.

            “Ellie!” she called. “I thought I felt you blacking out. What was it this time? Bad chili?”

            I said nothing, hands curled into fists, rage twisting my insides.

            “Okay, so skip the friendly conversation. I can do that. Have a seat, sis; let’s get down to business.”

            “Why do you keep appearing in my head?” I questioned instead. “I don’t want you here.”

            Angel lifted her hands. “Well, apparently you really do, because here I am. You could keep me out just as easily, but you don’t.”

            Because I didn’t know how to keep her out. I didn’t know how this could even be possible. “Just go away.”

            “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Not so fast, sis. I heard you’ve been a little under the weather.”

            This caught my attention. I paused in front of her, eyes narrowed, wondering how she could possibly know that. And then I just figured nothing about me was undisclosed to my twin, who’s apparent psychic abilities concerning me were far-reaching. “Maybe.”

            She smiled, and I didn’t think the action would ever reach her eyes. How could two people supposed to be so close be so distinctly different?

            “There’s a serum,” Angel spoke. “It counteracts our abilities but wards off the pain.”

            I stiffened. “Why are you telling me this?”

            “Ouch, Ellie. You mean I can’t just help out my sister because we’re family?”

            Family, wow. I nearly laughed. Like that meant anything to her. So I didn’t believe her in the slightest, but as she stood there leering at me in the cross-hairs of our realities, I realized something. Her face was pale, gaunt, eyes sunk in hollow holes on her face. The long dress she wore hung loosely off her frame, which was greyish and emaciated. Everything about her screamed “ill” and “so dangerously near death”. I didn’t look that way when I peered into a mirror, but it was exactly how I felt on the inside.

            Something you’re not getting, Ellie, I reprimanded myself. There my twin stood right in front of me, visibly as sick as I was on the inside, and I just needed to connect the dots.

            “I’m going now,” Angel said, turning away from my analytical eyes. “Find the serum. There, I told you. Goodbye.”

            She left, and I kind of expected to instantaneously wake up like I had in the past, but I kind of just hung there. Like I was suspended in time. Alone in my own foggy reality, trying to recall what happened.

            There was dancing with Blake, and then more chest pains and lack of air. Me collapsing to the ground and being unable to get a breath. Not even a smidge of one.

Blake panicking, August’s warm hands on me, telling me to breathe, beggingme to be okay.

            I just wanted to be okay.

            Something more. There had to be something more. Something I was just too ignorant or dense to put together. I was falling apart on the inside. Angel was clearly crumbling outwardly. Would I reach that stage? Had she started the same way as me? Clearly we were both suffering.