\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1974098-The-Lone-Angel
Item Icon
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Death · #1974098
Lucy Moseley was happy with her family, but when they are taken she has doubts about life.
“Lucy,” I felt someone’s hand on my knee shaking me. “Lucy, wake up, my little angel,” I heard my mother’s voice beside me. She always called me her little angel, and I loved it. “We’re finally here! Are you ready to go have some fun?”

I opened my eyes to see my mother standing beside me. We were taking a vacation to the beach and had been driving for hours. We were finally here and, as any ten year old girl would be, I was excited. I hopped out of the car and my feet hit the sand. I took off my clothes to reveal my swim suit I had on underneath. It was a green bikini that tied around the neck. It was meant to look like Tinkerbelle. It also had a matching sun hat, bag, towel, sandals, and sunglasses.

My mother and I went straight down to the ocean to stick our feet in the water as my father set up a place for us to lie down. You could feel the crisp, salty sea air that hit you every time the wind blew. All around, you heard families, laughing, and having fun. The loudest noise on the beach was the loud roaring of the large waves crashing as they come to shore. I looked down as cold water ran over my feet.

“Wow! The water is really cold,” I yelp as I jump back in surprise.

My mother laughed as she watched me playing in the waves.

It was a perfect day at the beach we had a picnic on the sand, Dad and I made a sand castle, Mom and I collected sea shells, I had so much fun!

“Why don’t we go for a walk along the water’s edge,” Dad proposes.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, honey. By the time we are back it will be time for the sun to set. I’m sure it will be beautiful. Come on, angel,” Mom smiled, taking my hand in her left and dad’s in her right.

We walked happily along the beach watching the waves and enjoying the end to a perfect day. All of a sudden, everyone around us started screaming, and then there was a loud bang, followed by another. More went off, but I didn’t hear them. All I heard was the two loud thuds on the sand beside me. I stopped dead in my tracks, as a stared at my parents bodies laying on the sand, both pierced through with a bullet and blood running down, turning the soft, white sand, to a sticky, deep, scarlet red.

“Mom…Dad…” I said with a hoarse voice as tears ran down my cheeks.

I sat there screaming and crying over the unmoving bodies of my parents that lie on the sand as the sun set, casting a scarlet coloring over the beach and ocean.

Seven years later.

“What is wrong with you, Connie?” I screamed in anger. At this point I had had it. I was done, “I thought we were best friends!”

“That is what I should be saying, Lucy,” she sneered. “I mean, look at yourself! You look hideous!”

I was wearing a blue high-low style t-shirt; black, majorly ripped skinny jeans; a black beanie; jet black boots that laced and buckled half way up my shins; a black and silver skull necklace; blue rimmed glasses; and my bracelets that go one-third of the way up to my elbow. My hair was blue at the top and faded to black. On my eyes, I wore heavy, black eyeliner and mascara. I had piercings going all the way up my ears, snake-bite piercings on my bottom lip, and a small piercing on the side of my nose.

I glare at her. I was furious. “I remember you saying that you would always be there for me, and support me no matter what I do. Is this what you call supporting me?” I snarled through my teeth.

“Lucy, forget her. Let’s go,” Michael says as he puts his hand on my shoulder, calming me down.

I glare at Connie, and then look back at Michael. “Alright,” I huff as I start walking towards home.

“Oh look, the emo prince saves his emo princess,” she jeers as we walk away.

I tense when I hear her, but Michael gives me a reassuring look telling me to ignore it.

Michael Vernon is my best friend, he always has been, and he always will be. He does dress like me, and likes to be left alone a lot like me, but he is the only one who can calm me down when I get that angry. I don’t know what I would do without him.

Michael and I were walking home with a very awkward silence hanging over us, until Michael decides to break the silence.

“I never thought I’d see the day when Connie Somers and Lucy Moseley fought,” he sighed.

I stop walking. “Can we please just not talk about it,” I whisper with a soft voice full of hurt. After a brief moment of tense silence, I begin running full speed toward my house.

“Lucy, wait up!” Michael shouts, his voice behind me, but I just keep running as fast as I can.

Once I’m at my house, I open the door, run inside straight up to my room, and flop down on my bed. I didn’t even bother to close the door because I knew Michael was close behind and I had given him a key a while back, so locking it wouldn’t work either.

“Lucy, why did you run?” he said in between breaths as he was trying to catch his breath.

I didn’t answer him, it would only hurt worse. I just look beside my television to where a beautiful, expensive picture frame sat; in it had a picture of a family at the beach. There was a man, who had a built figure, blond hair, and blue eyes. He was standing beside a woman who had shoulder length blond hair, bright blue eyes, and looked like she could be a model. In between them was a little girl, around the age of ten, who had long, beautiful, blond hair, and the biggest, brightest blue eyes a girl could have. She was dressed in a green bikini with matching accessories that resembled Tinkerbelle. The feature about the little girl that stood out most was her shining smile that just screamed I’m happy. In the background you can see that there is not a cloud in the sky. It was a happy family enjoying a sunny, warm, and overall perfect day at the beach. 

“Oh,” Michael said with sympathy in his eyes and voice, “is today the day?”

“Yes. It was today, seven years ago,” I say with a weak voice, seconds later a few tears escaped my eyes.

Michael walked over beside me and put his hand on my shoulder, “Come on, you need to-”

He was interrupted when I slapped his hand away. “No! I can’t believe you would say that! I can’t move on! They were my parent’s! I loved them, and they were ripped away from me! I will never move on!” I screamed, shoving him out of the way and running out of the house.

“Wait, Lucy, I wasn’t going to say that!” Michael started to chase after me, but by the time he could reach the door, I had disappeared.

I was running, running for my life, no, I was running from my life. I can’t stand it anymore. This is torture. I was a happy girl who always did as I was told and always tried to please my parents, yet they were taken on this day seven years ago. I tried to be an angel in my parents eye’s yet my wings were clipped and my halo, ripped off. I ran into the cemetery and right up to my parent’s grave. I fell to my knees in front of them and started crying.

“Mom, Dad, I miss you so much! Why did you have to leave? I can’t take it anymore. I have no idea what I am supposed to do. I need you guys here,” I cried staring at the flowers on their graves. I reached into my sleeve and pulled out what I had been hiding from Michael. It was a knife that belonged to my father. I opened the knife and the blade shone, reflecting the sun. I looked at my reflection in the blade. “I want to see you guys again,” I whispered, “I want to be with you. I don’t want to be alone anymore.” I looked at my parent’s grave and back at the knife. I hesitated for a moment, and then put the blade to my neck. I started to push in on my neck, letting some blood escape and fall on the grass in front of me.

“Lucy! What are you doing? Stop!” I hear a familiar voice scream behind me. I turn around to see Michael running towards me, nearly in tears.

“I just want to see them-” I was cut off by him tackling me to the ground and pinning me down underneath him. I feel him pry the knife out of my hand and throw it out of my reach. I look away and close my eyes, trying not to cry.

“What do you think you were doing,” he yells in my face. “Look at me,” he demands.

I don’t move a muscle.

“Look at me,” he yells even louder, pressing down on my wrists which were pinned to the ground under his hands. 

I slowly open my eyes and turn my head toward him. “What,” I whisper in the softest voice possible, my voice and eyes full of sadness and fear. Michael can be very sweet, and a great guy, but he can also be very scary and mean when he’s upset.

“Why,” he says in a hoarse voice, “why were you going to do that?”

“Because I want to,” I say as a tear escapes my eye and rolls down my cheek. “I want to see my parents again. I-I just,” I choke my words out, “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

His eyes widen and he gets off of me, allowing me to sit up, but before I can do or say anything else, he wraps me up in a giant hug.

“Michael, what are you…” I say in shock.

“I’m sorry,” he hugs onto me tighter as if he never wants to let go, “I never wanted you to ever feel like you were alone. I tried to always be there.”

More tears run down my face as I finally realize. That day, seven years ago, I started to shut myself off from the world. I thought that I would never be hurt again if I didn’t have anyone who I loved. I even shut out Connie, my best friend. No matter how hard I tried to shut myself off, Michael was always there. In the end, I just got lonely and ignored Michael. I never realized how much he was there for me all the time.

“Michael,” I whisper in his ear, “don’t be sorry. I’m the one who should be sorry. I tried to shut everyone out, and I thought I was alone, but you have always been there for me. Thank you.”

He pulls away from the hug and looks at my neck. “Here,” he said as he took off his shirt for me to use to wipe the blood away. “Lucy,” he looks at my face with serious look, “promise me you won’t ever do that again. I get it, you miss your parents, but I would miss you if you left. There will always be pain in life, but you need to find something that eases that pain, or someone to share the pain with. If you will allow me, I will share that pain with you.”

Tears welled up in my eyes and spilled over, flooding out of my eyes. “Thank you, Michael,” I hugged on to him and looked at my parent’s grave.

Michael pulled away a little but his hands were still on my waist. He stared deeply into my eyes and started to lean in.

Just then, I don’t know if it was just my imagination, but the sun came out from behind the clouds and shone on the graves, making them look like they’re glowing.

I just closed my eyes and smiled. This angel has found her way back to heaven.

© Copyright 2014 Scarlet Raven (faycherrywood at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1974098-The-Lone-Angel