Authors: Jenna Kay
“I don't f-feel right,” I told him truthfully between sobs.
“Oh, Clarity,” Brenton expressed, his voice heavy with remorse. He pulled me to him, cradling me like I was a baby. “I'm so sorry. I thought you were ready.”
Bringing his face to mine, I gazed up at him, shaking my head as I tried to wrap my mind around his implication.
“No, Brenton, no!” I told him reassuringly, pecking his lips. “I am ready. I'm just not feeling good, possibly from the beer at the bowling alley.” That was a total lie—I've never been sick from drinking one beer. “I swear, Brenton. I'm ready, I just feel...” I trailed off, not knowing exactly what to say.
Brenton touched his forehead to mine. “Are you positive that's it?”
“I'm positive. Brenton, I love you. I love ya more than anything!” I placed my head to his chest, listening to the rapid beating of his heart.
Brenton leaned back, staring me full in the face.
“You know there's no pressure,” he said, trying to console me. “I can wait.”
I lifted a hand to his face, caressing his cheek. “I know that,” was all I could come up with.
How could this have happened? We were about to take our relationship to the next level until Sam showed up. It was all Sam's fault! I looked back to the window and I felt my heart fall into my stomach—Sam was gone.
Was Sam trying to ruin my life? Causing me to go crazy and be shipped off to the insane asylum? And why the crap were my palms burning like I'd stuck them to close to a fire?
“I love you, Clarity,” Brenton said softly, cutting into my thoughts.
Forcing myself to smile, hoping I was hiding my anger I harbored toward Sam, I replied, “I love you, too.”
Chapter Nine
Standing on my porch I watched as Brenton's taillights vanished into the dark night. I stood there for I don't know how long, listening to all the night sounds.
The glow of the moon overlaid the earth, and the stars were hanging gracefully in the crystal clear sky. Closing my eyes I thought back to the start of the evening, omitting the argument between AC and I—I'd pushed that right out of my mind when my lips first touched Brenton on the porch. Everything had been going wonderfully—and then along came a boy named Sam.
Along came Sam, and there went my sanity flying carelessly over to the wild blue yonder. Anger began to ignite in my veins. He was the reason, the bringer of all my difficulties, my problems, my irrational thinking. He was the reason I was questioning my saneness, showing up out of nowhere and interrupting—
Wait...
A noise in the woods sounded from the side of the house, knocking me off my thinking train. Opening my eyes I peered out into the thick woods. What was that sound? Was it Sam?
A frosty wind answered my question, a chill that was way too cold for October. I shivered, the wind feeling like sharp icicles pricking my skin and freezing my blood. Walking backwards and reaching the front door, a rush of realization slapped me on the side of the head.
This harsh, frigid wind was not just any ordinary wind. No. This particular wind wasn't pushing me back—it was pulling me in, like it was trying to suck me up like a vacuum. To be more descriptive, I felt like a dozen wintry hands had a firm grip over every inch of my flesh, struggling to pull me off the porch. Fear howled through my body and my breaths were coming in short gasps. The palms of my hands were burning again, but instead of burning a little they were scorching hot, like I'd stuck my hand into a pot of boiling water.
What the heck?
Quickly opening the door, stepping into the safety of my house, I slammed it shut behind me, throwing the deadbolt. I ran to the kitchen sink and turned the faucet on to freezing. Disbelief drenched me as I gazed down at my hands under the icy flow of water.
They were glowing like before, but not red. This time a green color blinked on and off the unusual tattoos.
What. The. Crap.
“No, no, no,” I reiterated over and over again. Heavy tears dribbled down my face and neck. My heart hammered inside my chest. I attempted to blank out my mind, pinching my eyes closed, trying desperately to delete everything that was wrong and weird in my screwed-up existence.
I didn't want this to be happening; I didn't want to be going out of my mind; I didn't want to be seeing tattoos on my hands that were invisible to others; I didn't want to be seeing someone that no one else could see.
I really,
really
didn't want to end up a comatose zombie sitting in a wheelchair in a mental hospital ingesting whatever pills they handed me out of little floral cups.
“You're not crazy.”
Screaming in alarm I jumped away from the sink, crashing into the counter on the other side of the kitchen.
Sam was standing by the kitchen table, his unnatural blue eyes staring sharply at me. I stared back, trembling, not believing he was really there, not knowing if he was really there. He was wearing faded blue jeans and a white shirt, his expression was strong with concern, though his perfect, flawless features were as beautiful as ever. My palms were still hot but with Sam's presence my mind forgot about the biting tingle they possessed.
“You may be feeling a little unsure of yourself.” He slowly walked to the sink and turned the water off, then walked toward me. “You may be feeling a little discomfort.” I watched as he took my hands in his, the touch of his skin relinquishing the burning in my palms. “You may be thinking and feeling a lot of different things, but just know this: You. Are. Not. Crazy.”
My knees buckled, and if Sam had not been there I would have crashed to the floor. The intensity of his stare both unnerved and calmed me.
“What just happened outside? And why do I have burning, glowing tattoos on my hands?”
“The darkness has found its prey,” he told me sullenly.
I gawked at him. “What does that even mean?”
He didn't answer; instead he continued to gaze at me, a wooden expression harboring his features.
“OK,” I said weakly, my throat suddenly throbbing. “I have no idea what's goin' on but I do know this: before I met you my life was semi-normal. And then you show up...I don't know what to think anymore.” I blew out a nervous sigh. “You show up and my world flip-flops. Anyway, how did ya get in my house?” I had just realized I had forgotten about that. The door had been locked, I was sure of it.
“You're window was open,” he answered with a lopsided grin. “I closed it, by the way. There are a lot of monsters lurking out there tonight.”
I shuddered, thinking about the frigid wind. “You're so weird. You show up at the weirdest times, in the weirdest places.” I recalled the last time I had seen him, which was at my school. He had been perched high in the oak tree just outside my classroom window. “There's something about you that I can't figure out, and that totally ticks me off.” I pulled away from him.
A look of sadness gleamed in his eyes. “You're angry because you don't understand what's happening and what's yet to come.”
Not wanting to but unable to help it, tears began cascading down my face. I tried turning away from him, not wanting him to see me so weak, but he stopped me by cupping my cheek gently and coercing me to look at him.
“That's how the enemy works, feeding off your anger and taking every bit of light out of your life.” His voice was so tranquil and soothing, I felt entranced, not able to pull away from him even if I wanted to. “The darkness then invades, ravaging your soul and throwing it into a deep void of nothingness.” He took my face, tears, snot, and all, into his hands. His calming touch slowed down my racking sobs.
“The e-enemy?” I stuttered, not quite sure on where he was going.
His eyebrows furrowed, his lips a straight tight line. “One day soon all your questions will be answered. But for now it is my job to protect you from the darkness while you figure out which path you are going to take. Darkness has been plaguing your life for way too long.” He continued to hold my face in his hands, staring me down with eyes so blue I wanted to dive into them.
“That's why I was created,” he indicated.
Pulling his hands from my face I asked in a bare whisper, “What
are
you?”
He hesitated, his mouth opening and then closing. His eyes began glowing a soft blue.
“Okay,” I breathed out, slightly irritated, “if you won't answer any of my questions then tell me this: Tell me why that whenever you're around I have this overwhelming sense of calmness. Tell me why that whenever you touch me, and whenever you're near, any anger or fear melts away, leaving me feeling nothing but this warm comforting sense of security and well-being.” I paused, arching an eyebrow. “Tell me why you smell like lavender.”
He cracked a smile, as if what I had said struck him as humorous. With my courage building I leaned forward, getting right in his beautiful, faultless face.
“Tell me why I feel—I know—that I can trust you with everything I own, even though I know nothin' about you.”
He blew out a breath and the scent of lavender permeated the air. “You may want to have a seat,” he told me as he turned away from me and sat down at the table.
I shook my head, crossing my arms at my chest. “Nah, I'm fine standing.”
“OK, have it your way,” he said, laying his hands on the table and intertwining them. “But be warned that what I'm about to tell you may be hard to comprehend.”
I rolled my eyes, becoming aggravated. “I'm a smart girl—I think I can handle it.” I glared at him defiantly, waiting for him to start talking.
He cleared his throat. “There is no easy way to begin, so I'll just be forthright with it. There is an unseen war being fought every second of everyday. A war that began after the great fall.”
“The great fall?”
He observed me studiously. “Have you read the part in the Bible where it says that a third of the stars fell from the Heavens?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Well, it wasn't actually stars that fell from the sky. It was angels.”
“OK,” I expressed, not following where he was going.
“I know you've heard the story about how Lucifer's pride got the better of him, getting him cast out of Heaven, along with the angels who believed his lies?”
I clucked my tongue, bored. “Yeah, yeah, everyone knows that bedtime story. Lucifer wanted to reign over everything, so he tried to kick God off the throne so he could be the one to rule over Heaven and earth.”
“It's no bedtime story.” Sam's eyes narrowed at me. “What if I told you that Lucifer and his followers are still here, on earth, tormenting mankind?”
“I'd have to tell you that I think you're full of crap.” Defiance shadowed my face.
We glared at each other with mutual frustration. I was frustrated because I wasn't getting any answers—I was only getting told lame stories that may or may not have been true. And why he was frustrated? Maybe because he knew I wasn't buying his baloney, and that I wasn't going to believe the mythical nonsense popping out of his annoying but alluring mouth. If he had not been so gorgeous his butt would have been out the door already.
Shaking his head, causing a wisp of dark hair to fall into his eyes he said, “Your mouth has always been a problem, saying the most vile and crude things—“
“Yeah, about that,” I interrupted brusquely. “How do ya know things about me even though you don't know me?”
Sam appeared exasperated but remained calm. “When God cast out Lucifer and the other defiant angels they became angry and violent, changing into the exact opposite of how God created them to be, trading in their beauty for ugliness. That was when Lucifer became Satan, the ruler of the fiery abyss—the ruler of hell.” He paused, looking up at me. I gestured to him to keep going.
“That was the very day that the fallen started roaming the earth, leaving in their wake chaos and destruction, their number one goal to destroy as many of mankind as they could—and that is still their number one goal today.”
I rolled my eyes, beginning to get angry. Impatiently I threw my hands up into the air.
“What does any of this have to do with me?”
“Everything!” He shouted, causing me to flinch back. Then, gently he said, “Trust me. I know. I'm your guardian.”
I was taken back by his strange admission.
“Sam, what—?”
“Clarity, I'm an angel.”
The hair at the nape of my neck stood on end as every fiber of my body tingled. My heart was doing hand springs in my chest, jumping so hard my body began shaking with rampant tremors.
“Wha—huh?” There were no words to describe how I was feeling in that unreal moment.
As fast as lightening he was up from the table and standing in front of me, grasping one of my hands.
“I'm an angel, a guardian over mankind. I was assigned to you the very day you were born, and I've been with you ever since. That's how I know so much about you—I've never left your side.”
Nausea crashed into the pit of my stomach, the world around me tipping to one side. My head felt like a one hundred pound bowling bowl, threatening to fall forward.
An angel? Really? No. Couldn't be.