My Angel (COMPLETE)

Chapter 27- That was sad

Italics- thoughts/ flashbacks/ dreams

Bold- author talking

Underline- narrator talking, known as the main character

Normal- normal story

2083 words

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I got my nails done from pink to darker pink ombre.

Death insisted on watching the process and of course no one saw him.

And of course he got bored real quick.

And started complaining about the nonsense on how it takes too long and too expensive for the price and yada yada yada. I then had to explain everything.

It was funny. A grown ass man not understanding the skill it takes to do nails.

I offered to do his nails and he said no.

Now I'm walking around the house because I want to know the layout. The dark shall not stop me even though I walked into a few walls and corners.

Who am I kidding? I would have walked into things if the lights were on.

And a certain someone keeps laughing at my clumsy ass.

I look at the basement door and it says come down but I say no and keep walking.

.

..

...

So after a while I learned that there's nothing here. Everything is dull except for that one closet and my room. There's nothing on the 2nd floor either and I didn't go in the attic because I'd probably get killed if I did.

I venture back to my dull ass room and look at death who is sitting on the edge of my bed, "There's nothing here."

"I know."

"Why though?"

"I told you, I was never here before."

I fall onto my bed and look at the empty ceiling, "well that's lame."

The bed shifts as he leans over me, "very lame."

I nod in sarcastic agreement. He wraps his arms around me.

Well I guess I'ma sleep now.

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There's a blinding light with no source.

It sounds like people are talking but it's a different language and I can't see them. It's just white. With doves singing their tunes in the background and everything else is silent.

The ground is fluffy and white along with the air and sky. Nothing can be seen besides the mysterious ground and painful brightness that feels normal.

But I cannot move. I can't move anything and I'm on my knees with my arms tied behind my back. All I feel is worry and regret. The same as people who knew they fucked up but also hatred to someone important.

Nothing feels right, like this isn't supposed to happen but it's supposed to happen.

There's a yearn to just lay down and sleep to avoid what happens next. An urge to wake up from this horrible dream that went to the wrong person.

A worry about what's going to happen next. Dread for what will immediately come next. A fear for a pain that's yet to come.

Something grabs my hair and pulls to make me see up. All there is is blinding light. A silhouette of some weird repetitive shape joined to something round full of pure power.