The Angel Awakens

Chapter 17: Voices

Alfonso found himself staring at Daryl's backpack again.

Daryl had asked him to take it home since he would go to tryouts, then to a friends house and now it sat there.

He was in the library, sitting at his desk, and the pack was on a chair in the middle of the room.

Alfonso believed the library was the perfect room to put his desk. It was quiet, the bookshelves filled with books helped him keep focused while going over his work and the fact that the room was almost soundproof relieved him of distractions.

But then there was Daryl's backpack, reminding Alfonso of his absence and stirring some voices in his mind that have long been quiet.

The moving van had arrived two hours ago and Alfonso, with the movers help, had finished putting everything in their place about an hour ago.

Alfonso put Daryl's things in his room, he even assembled his bed. Alfonso knew he told Daryl he wouldn't arrange any of his things, but somethings are just too heavy for him.

"Of course they are," Said a voice in mind sarcastically, "So many things are heavy for his kind."
"Shut up." Alfonso whispered, tightening his grip on the pencil he was holding.

"You know what he is," The sinister voice stated, "You know any day now it will happen."
"Shut up." Alfonso whispered angrily, louder than the last time.

Alfonso shook his head, trying to silence the voices in his mind. He reassured himself that Daryl was alright and reminded himself that he doesn't even know if he's one. He waited, waiting for the voices to come back, but they didn't.
He looked back down at the math textbook in front of him, he had to review the exercises he would give his students.

He stopped reading when three words entered his vision.
'They'll get him.' It read.
Alfonso blinked, and the words were gone.

Alfonso closed his textbook and ran his hands through his hair, messing up his clean cut.
He was not going to have another bout, he told himself, not after so long.

"Who knows, they might already have him."
"No they don't." Alfonso yelled.
The pencil he was holding snapped in half, surprising Alfonso.
"They're gone. The Council made sure of it." He continued, voice shaky.

"Of course they did." The sarcastic voice slithered around in his head, "And you don't think there are still some out there? There are 50,000 of you, surely there is one."

Alfonso was starting to give in to what the voice was saying, it might be right. But then there was that side of him that was reluctant to give in.
"One of us is not enough to destroy all of angelkind."

"You're right," The voice said, and somehow Alfonso felt it smile in a sinister way, "But it's enough to kill one that has recently awakened."

Alfonso heard something snap, and he knew it wasn't the new pencil he picked up. The voice had done it.

"Daryl," Alfonso whispered, but his voice quickly got louder.
"Daryl, he's in trouble. He's in danger. I need to help them, they're going to get him." He freaked, his voice getting louder with each passing word. Alfonso abruptly got up, knocking everything on the desk to the floor, and started walking around the room.

"Yes. Yes they will." The voice said, the words echoing through Alfonso's mind, "And they'll kill him. Just like they killed your wife."

Alfonso held onto the corner of the desk to steady himself.
"Why'd you have to remind me?" Alfonso asked.
He remembered the day she died, of when the police went to their house to inform them, of course it was their special division that went. He remembered when he went to see the body, his children's tears when Alfonso told them.
And the first, and worst, of his bouts of paranoia.

Alfonso felt tears run down his face, but he quickly wiped them away.
"I have to get ready." Alfonso said.
He leaned off the desk and turned towards the bookshelves.
"I have to find it." He said, pulling books off the shelves, "I have to prepare the house, I have to protect my family."
He went to another bookshelf and did the same.
"I won't let them hurt me. I won't let them hurt Lars. I won't let them hurt Daryl. I won't let those wi-"
"Dad!" A young voice yelled.

Alfonso turned around and saw Lars at the door, his hand firmly holding the doorknob.
"Dad everything's alright." Lars assured him, his voice almost cracking.
Alfonso saw Lars's eyes tearing up and a small bit of his paranoia disappeared.

"D-Daryl, he's in danger." Alfonso started, "We have to get hi-"
"Daryl's at his friends house, remember." Lars said loudly but calmly.
"He's in trouble."
"He's fine dad," Lars said, taking his hand off the doorknob and reaching into his pocket, "I'll call him to prove it."

As Lars waited for Daryl to pick up Alfonso stared at him. Everyone always mentioned how Lars looked like him, especially the people who knew Alfonso as a kid. They had the same coffee brown hair and dark complexion, although Lars was lighter than Alfonso. He also had that playful aura Alfonso was said to have when he was younger, which washed away as he grew older.

For every moment Alfonso kept staring at Lars, a piece of himself fought off the paranoia.

"Daryl?" Lars asked, making Alfonso focus on him again, "You're at your friends house, right?"
Lars put the call on speakerphone.
"Yeah, I'm at Owen's. Why?" Daryl said from the phone.

More of Alfonso's paranoia washed away, but he could still feel it there.

"The time! Oh my gosh!" Daryl said, "Tell dad I'm sorry, and that I'll be right there." With that he hung up.
"See dad," Lars said, putting his phone away, "He's alright."
Alfonso nodded in consent.

He noticed wet streaks under Lars's eyes, but Alfonso didn't remember seeing him cry. He guessed he must've been too focused on Daryl's voice to notice.

"Thank you." Alfonso told him, giving Lars a smile.
Lars gave him a small smile and started to turn away.
"Lars." Alfonso called. He turned around. "I'm sorry."
Lars gave Alfonso a larger smile this time, even tough it wasn't that large.
"No need to be sorry." He said, closing the door afterwards.

Alfonso collapsed on an arm chair and hid his head in his hands. He took deep breaths, trying to calm down. He raised his head for his eyes to look around.

Directly in front of Alfonso was Daryl's backpack. It was mostly blue but had some black stripes here and there. It also had many pins on it. Alfonso knew most of them were about the fandoms Daryl was in, they were either about books or video games, beyond that he had no idea what they meant.

Alfonso let out a sigh and looked to his desk and the bookshelves, which were in a messy state since he blindly threw stuff on the floor during his paranoia. He got up to clean it, thinking over what the voices had said.

As much as he hated the paranoid voices in his mind, he knew they were right. Some of them might still be around. And even one can kill Daryl, even when he awakens, if he is one.

"I need to prepare."

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I personally thought this was a powerful chapter, feelswise.
What do you think? Any suggestions on how to make it more powerful and/or realistic. If so please comment.