Angelic (Book 2)

Fourteen

                        For someone like me, friends are like four leaf clovers; nearly impossible to come by. That all of you would aid me even in the midst of all the danger, and call me your friend rather than another duty, meant the world to me. Know I will never forget any of you, and I mean you all the best when I no longer can track your progress myself.

                        Hopefully after they find my body, the carnage will end. Hopefully all of you bound some sort of way to the government can go on to lead happy lives, I suppose, until you’re called in again to serve. Perhaps this will silence my sister, and the Prophets, and everybody else who has engraved my name into their mind.

                        I mean no pain by leaving this letter. No pain at all, for any of you. There must be some light at the end of the tunnel, and I see it. I finally see it, though faded and dim and flickering, it’s there. I pray, someday, you all see the light as well.

                        August . . . there aren’t words I can put here. No words. Just know when it comes to it, when I’m about to end everything . . . you’ll be the last thing I think of. I’m sorry for ever hurting you. That was the last thing I ever wanted to do.

                                                Sincerely,

                                                            El

            Great.

I knew my thoughts would stray to him, it almost seemed inevitable, but still I hoped I would have managed to jump before his face sprawled across the canvas of my brain. Before his laugh ricocheted like a pinball machine off every corner. Before my chest stabbed with pain, like a million needles being jammed through it.

I should have told him. Standing there on the edge, and I’d already allowed myself to dig up a regret. I should have told August, in that room with him, how strong my feelings were. Letting him down, making him guess . . . driving that rift between us. The wrong things to do. Always the wrong things. And now I would never get that chance.

It’s okay. Something would have happened, anyway. Something horrible.

At least that was a variable I could always rely on.

The wind picked up, as if anticipating my long descent. The grip of my fingers on the thick cords loosened. I slid my toes to the edge of the concrete and closed my eyes, leaning forward, waiting for—

Hands grabbed me, quite suddenly and roughly, more or less ripping me from the edge and throwing me to the ground. Shocked, I could do nothing more spectacular than lay there and stare up at the dark sky, wondering what on earth had just happened.

“Sorry, girly. You ‘ain’t dying tonight; not on Angel’s watch.”

No.

No.

So close to absolute liberation, and still the Prophets found me. Still they messed everything up.

Goose bumps broke across my flesh. Now that imminent death wasn’t on the horizon, the chill could be felt through the air. The adrenaline in my system died down, as defeat resumed dominancy and I slumped to the pavement. No good. What good was I if I couldn’t even carry out a simple task? All I had to do was jump.

The universe, it seemed, was intent on preserving my life, if for its own sadistic enjoyment

I was tired of being fate’s sadistic enjoyment.