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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #973907
A short short to give you the creeps. Step inside a twisted mind.
         I followed you home from work again. Marbled grey-black clouds loomed overhead, releasing a warm mist. Tiny droplets splattered and rolled down the windshield. While I trailed your green sedan, with its grey interior, CD player, and pineapple-scented air freshener, the scenery slid past us.
         Your route home took us past a private school yard surrounded by chain link fence and spotted with children in navy jumpers and yellow raincoats. We both went to school there. I, the shy boy, had fallen in love with you, the perfect little angel. Remember the blank, heart-shaped, red paper in your math book? I couldn’t find the words, but I wanted to show you that I was near, that you had an admirer. My childish anxiety had not allowed me to give you those buttercups tied with pink ribbon or the other treasures now stored in a special box.
         Traveling down this familiar stretch of asphalt, memories fluttered like butterflies through my mind. At sunset, you liked to sit on the bench closest to the shores of Maiden Lake, close your eyes, and listen to the night seeping in. The loons cried, the crickets chirped, the breeze rustled the leaves of the gnarled weeping willow. Then you opened your eyes to catch the last moment of sunset; burning red, vivid orange, pale lavender, and powder blue swept across the sky. Soon the stars began to glow in the darkening heavens. Yet, you never stayed long enough to see all the stars appear. Did you ever feel like someone was watching you? Yes, it was I. How could I pass up the chance to behold my lady divine? Ah yes, but then we arrived at your home – time to put fond memories aside.
         I parked some distance away, since you didn’t like to be crowded. After the house became dark and you slipped into blissful rest, I stepped out of my car and strolled towards your quaint house with the white picket fence and spicy aroma of marigolds. I hummed one of your favorite songs, “Every Breath You Take.” It’s my favorite, too. I quietly entered the house – I didn’t want to disturb you. Unerringly, I walked to your bedroom.
         The scene from the bedroom doorway looked just like my photographs, except this time you were in the room. My heart skipped a few beats. A slender angel with golden hair, soft eyelashes, and velvety lips lay swathed in yellow flannel sheets. I couldn’t resist brushing those heavenly lips with mine. I was in paradise.
         Then I gave you a gift. A necklace of silver wire slipped around your satiny throat. Upon waking, you were so surprised by such a precious gift that you were speechless. Your head fell back upon the down pillow, lips half parted, and a serene expression graced your face from amongst the halo of honey hair. After straightening your nightclothes and the sheets about you, I left you with your new necklace. “Goodnight, my darling,” I whispered before I shut the bedroom door behind me. “Now you head home to heaven—where angels belong.”
© Copyright 2005 TBird_critterkeeper (tonnerrebird at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/973907-Where-Angels-Belong