An Angel's Kiss

Chapter 15

Why?

Why was all of this happening to me?

Did I do something, anything, to deserve this?

Please God, tell me if I did. I want to fix it.

Well, if angels exist, then God must too, right? At least, I hoped he did. Otherwise my prayer(s) would be going up into thin air. They wouldn’t be doing me much good there.

Today was just not my day. I’d had a sneaking suspicion that something was up when I was running late this morning. My homeroom teacher just nodded brusquely when I walked in. She’s never done that before. If you’re more than a second after the bell you’ll get a detention. She’s given me one. I was five minutes late.

Then, she didn’t give me the late work for what I’d missed. She simply told me that I didn’t need to do it and would be excluded from it so it wouldn’t affect my grades. I barely had to do anything during class at all. That part wasn’t so bad though, it was kind of a relief. I doubted that I’d have been able to concentrate anyways.

The rest of the day was just as weird too.

In order for you to fully understand the magnitude of my situation, I’m going to have to explain something to you.

I’m not, and I never have been, one of the popular girls in my school. We just acknowledged that other was there, nothing more, nothing less. And today, a few girls – three of the most popular girls in our school- came up behind me and tapped shoulder. I choked on the water that I was drinking; it was the middle of lunch.

They actually apologized to me.

They apologized over the death of my sister. Quickly, I told them that it was okay and that it happened a long time ago. One of them even told me that “if I ever felt the need to talk to someone about it” I could call her. She gave me her number and walked away.

I sat there stunned for about five more minutes before getting up to leave the lunchroom. I didn’t want anyone else’s pity. To make matters worse, Jessica wasn’t even there. So I spent the rest of lunch in the bathroom staring at a wall.

Which leads me to where I am now: sitting in that last class of my day and wishing that I could be anywhere but here. It’s really not a fun thought to be having, especially since this is normally my favorite class of the day. It wasn’t today.

The only really good thing about this class is that the teacher wasn’t being all special to me. She told me that if I didn’t feel like I would be able to finish all the work I could do something else. She always says that, so that wasn’t so big of a shock.

It’s also a good thing that we’re really not allowed to talk in Art. Points will get taken off of your projects. At least I could spend the rest of my time in silence.

She wanted us to draw the scariest thing we could think of. At first, I honestly didn’t know what to draw. Then I thought of it. I was going to draw a take-off of my sister’s murder death. Slowly, I came up with a plan for it in my head.

Sierra was not going to be in it.

I drew the line at that. I didn’t need anyone else saying anything about it,

Not wanting to focus anymore on horrible thoughts, I started to draw.

The man’s face came first. I drew it like I imagined it without the ski mask- it would be scarier that way.  Slowly, his features started to take shape. They were in all the right places, but didn’t look exactly normal. Scars painted the sides of his nose and face- almost like sideburns.

His lips had a scar on them. It almost looked like it would if someone had a cleft-lip, but creepier. His hair was pushed back to reveal a long, jagged scar that lay across the front of his forehead. I liked the way it looked.

Then all over his face I drew scars. Just scars. They were pretty odd looking ones, but almost held a menacing look about them. Sighing, I sat back. The face of it was done except for one tiny thing: the eyes. I had left them for last since I knew that they would be the trickiest part to draw.

                I wanted to make them look like they were following you everywhere- like the way they do in the Mona Lisa. They had to look frightening. If you took one look at them, you had to know that he was going lunge at you.  

                Finally, I started moving onto his body. The first thing that I did there was draw his hands. The hands were supposed to look like they were reaching out to grab you. I drew them opened, with claws for fingers. It was still recognizable as a hand, but also as something much worse. It was perfect.

                The other hand was the same, except this one was closed. There were scars going up and down his fingers and palm. Overall, the picture looked gruesome.

                As I was drawing the scars, I noticed that my pencil’s tip was no longer sharp. So, of course, I turned around to sharpen it.

                The entire class was standing behind me, watching in rapt attention what I was doing. I blushed. Madly. Have I ever said how much I hate being center of attention? I’d much rather be in the back seat of everything: there, but not really there.

                I stood there awkwardly, fidgeting, After a second I sighed and walked over to the pencil sharpener. The noise that it made seemed louder in the dead silence of the room. Silently, I sat back down, trying to concentrate on my drawing. It took me a moment, but I started drawing again.

                All I had left now was the background. I hadn’t thought that far ahead; I didn’t know what I was going to draw yet. I decided to draw clouds in, as though they were covering up the sun. The rest was just shaded in.

                I was done. Slowly, I shook my hand out, trying to get rid of the cramp that had formed within in. Sure I had hurt my hand like this before, but it usually wasn’t this bad. Luckily, after a few moments of shaking it around, the pain subsided.

                The bell rang and I was the first one of that classroom. I didn’t even bother putting away the painting. Mrs. Walker wouldn’t mind when I explained to her why.

                I skipped the bus. It would mean another torturous twenty minutes of people sitting there talking about me or to me. Walking home would be my best option.

                And then I saw what was propped against my doorway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So? Any guesses on what was propped against her doorway?

And don't worry; the next chapter won't take so long to upload. I just really didn't have time, nor was I in the mood to write. I can;t promise that that won't  happen again, but the chapter will come out sooner than last time.

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XxTheDarkAngelxX