Hidden Angels

Not My Memory..

            Chapter I

“She’s weird… she’s too happy, she’s-” the dream ended abruptly, throwing her into consciousness. Her senses awakened, and she lay there in the warm folds of her blanket, listening to the birds sing.

This was her favorite part of the day; the moment of pure bliss at waking, right before reality washes over, destroying whatever frail dreams may have hung in its path.

A furry paw shot out and hit her full on the nose. Angeline opened her large lash-rimmed brown eyes, meeting Toulouse’s oval green ones on the pillow next to her. “Ow.” she murmured, still partially asleep.

The rust colored cat rolled onto his back and meowed; paws in the air, obviously pleased with himself.

Angeline threw off the flowery covers in a flamboyant gesture, successfully sending Toulouse flying off the tall bed. Landing gracefully on his paws, the cat proceeded to lick himself, purring all the while. “That’s gross.” she told him, laughing as he shot her a dirty look. She surveyed her bedroom sleepily. The tall glass windows let in the first rays of the day, with the lacy white curtains framing the view of her parent’s apple orchards.

Toulouse had been her best friend for about 3 years now, since he appeared wrapped up like a present on the front porch, the morning of her 15th birthday. Now, he followed her around everywhere like a shadow.

Sweeping out of her bedroom with Toulouse in tow, she went about her daily routine. Stepping out of the tub; Toulouse jumped in pouncing on the fading bubbles and splashing water everywhere.

“Tuto!” Angeline cried, half-annoyance, half-delight.  Pulling him out of the tub, she wrapped the struggling cat in a dry towel so that only his face showed in the folds of the fabric. Angeline cooed at him, planting a kiss on his forehead that he returned with a rough lick.

 Getting dressed, Angeline chose a stiff canary yellow tutu and a tight baby blue top. Bright colors made her feel glad to be alive; each shade a feast for eyes. The tutu was a popular item of choice for her. Just skirts in general, really. Looking down she could not see her green- converse- wearing feet. It felt like flying, like her legs were stuck in a cloud, far off from the ground.

Her vision was suddenly blocked, like someone had drawn a veil over her eyes. A fairytale setting flashed into sight, white clouds and sliver skies, golden castles. What is this? Where did it come from? A story? A memory? A trio of winged angel-like beings floated by laughing and chatting. The vision’s perspective wavered as she waved to one of them. A male with imposing red wings and curly brown hair shot her a bright smile and waved softly, his delicate long fingers immediately dispensing whatever anxiety had come from his strikingly athletic frame. In an elegant flap of his feathered wings he joined his friends. Who was he? Did she know him? A shadow came over her and a pair of small hands pushed her off the cloud. She tumbled, her wings tearing to pieces in force of the air... she knew the cost of falling from the Clouds, she would lose all her powers, and she would be reincarnated as a human. She would lose all her powers. A fallen angel. A lost celestial being, now cursed to roam the earth. Oh, well, she thought. It’s a new adventure.