Fallen Angel

Chapter One

Falling. I'd heard, before you took your last breath you would regret your decision. You would regret taking the jump, you would regret stepping off the edge..but I did not. Taking that step off seemed to be the best decision I had made in a long time.

The air swept through my tangled hair, covering my face as I descended further towards my fate. Death. I felt a loss of breath, but I did not mind, all this would be over in a few seconds. The days that seemed to never end, the ache in my chest, a constant reminder of the ultimate betrayal from the one I loved the most. I embraced this feeling. I looked forward to the black hole that is the end. 

Finally it came, the darkness. I smiled at the darkness.

...

A chill touched my skin, I shuddered. My whole body ached. I groaned ever so slightly, I felt exhausted. Too exhausted to open my eyes

"The rejected Angel is finally awake."

The rejected Angel?

Warmth moves across my face, across my cheek moving over my forehead. Following, the warmth a woodsy scent overpowered my sensors. I breathed in, I needed that scent in a candle,  it was mouth-watering.  I had the urge to open my eyes and see where the deep voice came from.

However as I tried to open my eyes they just felt too heavy to open, after a couple more attempts I gave into my exhaustion and remained in the darkness. I let the shadows take over my body once again, I let out a breath and felt the pain ease, my head grew quiet from thought and I drifted back to the abyss.

...

I open my eyes. I stare. I'm laying down, staring at a plain ceiling. The ceiling was painted an off white, perhaps a pure white originally but after years of not being touched up it looked more dull. Whoever had painted the ceiling was clearly not a professional, nor really cared to make the painting neat as around the edges you could see the imperfect lines that met with the brown walls. This room had no character.

I lay on a bed, a hard mattress beneath me. I evaluated the room, and as I moved slightly, I noticed that the pain in my back was coming from a spring poking through the material of the mattress. Much like the ceiling, this mattress had seen better days.

This was not the mattress from my room. This was not my room. I had spent far too much on a memory foam mattress, and mattress topper, that actually felt like you was on a cloud.

Why was I not in my bed? Why was I not in my room?

I try to think about my last movements before going to sleep. What had I done yesterday? What day was it? I must have been in a deep sleep because trying to rack my brain to remember was hurting my head. My head really did ache. I must have been drinking last night? I must be hungover. Oh dear.

Fear sunk in as I put my hands on the bed and push myself to a seated position. Oh boy did my body ache. I felt like I been hit by a bus. I barely was in a seating position when my muscles screamed at me to lay back down. I did not want to lay back down in a strangers bed. I needed to get out of here. Wherever here was. I felt too weak to stand though so I just slowly shuffle so that my back rested against the headboard.

Now that I am up right I evaluate the rest of the room. A lonely 7 drawer chest lay around five feet from the foot of the bed. On top perched a tv, small and dusty. Nobody had watched TV here in a long time. No rug lay on the floor boards. Other than the chest of drawer, there was two bed side tables that lay next to either side of the small double, and a window to the right of me with curtains that matched the colour of the walls. There was no lamp shade on the light.