Angel Of Death

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T H E light of the sun hardly remained on the sky. As the bright afternoon sky began to turn a beautiful pallette of purple and pinks. The first of the stars began peeking out as Angelica entered her bedroom. The soles of her feet began to ache as she finally took off her Jimmy Choos. The constraint of the tight pumps on finally being removed felt heavenly. She looked at herself in the mirror.

Her thick, silky indigo-black hair reflected the warmth of the illuminated light bulbs on her vanity. Deep turquoise eyes shined and the barely there highlight gave a soft glow to her button nose. The full, heart shaped pink lips pulled up into a smile. Winking at herself she ran her fingers through the waist length hair. She absolutely wanted to cut it off, however, her parents would never allow her.

Angelica Roosevelt, was the youngest out of four. With two elder sisters and two elder brothers. Her sisters, Rosamund and Melissa were twins and at the age of twenty nine were happily married to their husbands. Rosamund was married to a businessman, Jacob and Melissa had been tied in a nuptial bond with a famous NBA player, Ralph. She then had a brother who was twenty seven. Steve, was the closest to her out of all meanwhile her other brother Riley, at the age of twenty five was closer to her elder sisters. Angelica, or as her family liked to call her Angel, was twenty one and a cosmetology student.

Having been born to a rich couple that made their money from the stock exchange, she had all comforts of life at the tips of her fingers. She went to one of the most prestigious schools all her life and her results reflected that. Angel was a poised and mannered lady who had a full grip over her emotions. You would never see her wearing anything informal. Playing dress up as a child, she stuck to the habit of dressing proper everyday. Obviously, her feet did not like it so much.

Hence as soon as she had returned and changed into a set of comfortable clothing, she fell atop her large bed. The plush bedding cushioned her fall as she tried to get comfortable. The silky sheets caressed her porcelain skin. Her tiny hands pulled the heavy comforter around her body as she finally found that spot.

"Miss Roosevelt, dinner is served in ten," their butler called through the intercom. Sighing, the young girl stood up and entered her large closet. Selecting an ankle length silk dress with her favourite pair of beige heels, Angel headed out of her bedroom. Her heels clacked across the marble flooring. The large stairs all but engulfed her tiny 5'5 frame. As she entered the unnecessarily huge dining room, she greeted her parents.

"Hello mom, dad," she passed them a smile and waved, continuing "where are Riley and Steve?" She inquired.

"Hello darling. Your brothers are at the steakhouse on fifth avenue with your sisters." Her father told her. Inside her heart, Angelica felt a bit hurt that they had chosen not to invite her. It was not the first time but it hurt just as much.

"Sit Angel. Let's eat. Your favourite shrimp pasta has been prepared by chef," her mother tried to lighten the mood. Angel thanked her and dug in. No one knew that she never liked shrimp pasta. She just ate it a lot as a teenager because that was the only times her sisters would be with her. They would all cook together. However, after the first time Angelica had told them about being touched inappropriately by Jacob, the rest had begun to keep a distance.

Her life was dull and slow moving. She would attend her university in the day and in the evenings she would be in her spacious bedroom, working on a business idea for a cosmetics company. Her family, was so busy with their jobs and business that they had forgotten her. That she needed their presence in her life. Only Steve made an effort - a very small effort - so she considered them as close. But that was relative. Deep down she knew they resented her.