Who Am I?

Chapter 3. Pretty Blue People

I sat on my bed, flipping through my old diary. I had started seeing Shadow Angels when I was ten. At that point, I thought that they were pretty blue people, with halos and devil horns. I had no idea. I began telling anyone who would listen about my strange sight, and I would always ask people if they could see them too. I constantly heard no. They must have thought that I was insane, a small girl with pigtails, running around the streets claiming that she could see pretty blue people inside everyone. Then, one day, I heard someone say yes. I can still clearly remember that moment...

I turned around and looked up at the person in front of me. He was far older than I, with grey thick grey hair on his head and glasses that sat upon his head, with a green tinted brim around the edges. He wore grey shorts, with a striped blue and white shirt. He looked down at me curiously before, kneeling down so that I could see him eye to eye. 

“I understand what you are speaking of. You are seeing the Shadow Angels.”

I looked at him blankly, and he took this as a hint to describe what he was talking about.

“Blue people that you can almost see through, with a halo floating above their heads...”

“Or horns!” I piped in excitedly. 

He looked at me and a grin flourished upon his face. I smiled back and he held out his hand, introducing himself. His name was Christopher Cale and he knew what I was talking about. I didn’t bother to think, I shook his hand and said with a grin, “My name is Scarlet!” 

He returned the smile and said softly, “It is very nice to meet you Scarlet.” He then walked over to a park bench and sat down, motioning for me to follow. I did and sat down beside him, swinging my legs because they couldn’t reach the ground. He then began to question me about the blue people, asking questions like how long I had been seeing them for and wether I could communicate with them or not. I looked at him and realized that something was different about him. 

“Excuse me, Mr. Cale?”

He looked down at me. I blushed before continuing.

“Why don’t you have a blue person inside you like everyone else?”

He looked down at me curiously. 

“I am like you. I was, for some reason, born without a soul. Born without a Shadow Angel.”

“What is a Shadow Angel?”

“A Shadow Angel, my dear, is a soul, a creature which is half demon, half angel. They grow in the roots of the trees surrounding us, midway between heaven and hell, and stay there until a newborn child is born. They then travel faster than the speed of light to the newborn, and become a part of it. As the child grows, the Shadow Angel makes an important decision. It decides wether it wants to follow the path of the demon, or follow the path of the angel. The path that they follow influences the human that they are inside. A Shadow Angel gives you personality. This is why there are good and bad people on the Earth.” he said, not looking at me. 

I looked to the ground and nodded. Christopher stood up and turned to look at me, shaking my hand once again. 

“It was lovely to meet you Scarlet. I will always be here if you ever need me.”

I nodded without a word, and watched as he walked away.

I shook my head and blinked back a tear. I had continued to go to the park everyday, and talked to Chris everyday for the next three years. He told me everything he knew about Shadow Angels, and I confided in him, telling him what I was seeing. Everything was great, and we quickly became good friends. Until that day. 

I had been walking to the park and I saw Chris, sitting there on the same park bench with his eyes closed. I crept up behind him and hid behind the bench. I then jumped and yelled as loud as I could, “BOO!”. 

I looked at his face excitedly, to see his reaction. But there was none. His eyes were still closed, and now that I was closer to him, I could see that his face was pale. Too pale. I hesitantly walked around until I was standing in front of him. I gently shook his arm, mumbling his name. He didn’t respond. I looked down, and instantly regretted it. Below the seat was a scarlet pool, glinting in the sunlight. I squeezed my eyes shut, and heard a slow dripping sound. I opened them again and looked at Chris’ jacket, noticing a slight bulge in the center. I carefully and slowly unbuttoned the jacket, thinking to myself ‘he’s just sleeping, it’s ok!’. Once all the buttons were undone, I pulled the jacket open and screamed.

I flinched, remembering the handle of the knife which had been protruding from his chest. No one had ever found the killer, and even though the police hadn’t said anything, I knew that they had given up the search. I sighed, closed the book and looked out the window. People were walking past, their Shadow Angels smiling and holding hands. I looked away as a tear rushed down my face. I still missed my best friend. He had been and was still the only one who had any clue what I was rambling on about. I didn’t dare ask Grandma Rose about Shadow Angels, she would ring up the mental hospital in an instant after the words ‘blue people with yellow eyes’ popped out of my mouth. I could never let her think that the only family member she had left was insane. 

I suddenly heard footsteps approaching. I quickly shut the diary, threw it behind my bed and flinched as it banged against the wall loudly. I laid down on the bed and closed my eyes, meanwhile slowing my breathing down. 

“Knock knock!” I heard Grandma Rose say as my door creaked open. I kept still as she approached, leaned over and kissed my forehead.

“Goodnight Scarlet.” she whispered before leaving, slowly shutting the door on the way out.

I quickly sat up, grabbed the torch beside my bed and pulled the diary from where it lay after I had suddenly disposed of it. I opened it and went to the last entry. I shone the torch onto the page. Even though the dim light barely made a difference but I still read. 

April 18th 2007

Today was Christopher’s funeral. I was the only person who came (I told Grandma Rose that I was going to the store to get some milk. Her Shadow Angel was crying when I left.)  The funeral was very sad, I didn’t stop crying. At the end, I laid blue flowers on the fresh grave, below the gravestone which read ‘Christopher Cale’. He would have liked those flowers, blue was his favourite colour. 

I have to go now. Grandma is calling me for dinner. I’ll finish writing tomorrow.

-Scarlet

I never ended up writing in the diary again. I gently ran my fingers over the places where the page was crinkled from the tears that had run down my face that day. I closed my eyes and cringed as my screams rang in my ears.