Angela

Chapter fifteen

I can't forget the horrible doubts that keep nibbling at the back of my head. I can't seem to flush them out, I keep pounding my head, hoping it'll make the pain go away. But instead, it just multiplies it, I go to bed with my head throbbing and fireworks pounding within it. Hazell creeps into my room around midnight and we stay cocooned together for the rest of the night, she gets nightmares even more often now. I understand, I get them too.

When the morning welcomes me to another day of my life, another chapter of the long book I have yet to complete, I feel a tendril of soft hair tickle my nostrils. My little sister wriggles and rises from the bed, it feels more lonely than ever now, and I allow myself to wonder where George is. He hasn't visited in a while, where he is or why he isn't coming I don't know, maybe he just can't be bothered any more. Nobody wants to be friends with a blind girl, too much responsibility. When I have managed to pick at some cereal and kept it down, I call George.
"What's up?" I hear a voice on the end of the line,
"Hi. George. You haven't called in a while, is everything okay?" I instantly regret it, I sound so desperate and clingy. Ugh! I hate people like that yet I am one myself.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, Angela, I'm sorry. I just reckoned you'd want some space, some time to, uh. Adjust." He sounds so awkward, as if he doesn't know what will set me off crying, what he should and shouldn't say.
"It's cool,"
"Okay, and yeah, things are good. Ugh! You're right though, I haven't seen you in ages! What an asshole I am."
"No no, you're not an asshole, George. You're better than any of my other friends!"
"Well, that's not hard."
"So, uh, do you want to come over?"
"Yeah, sure, I'll be there in ten."

I hang up the phone. My hair feels greasy, I douse it quickly with cold water and coat myself in old perfume. My mum bought this perfume for me, it smells lovely, fresh and cool like winter. Hazell helps me dress.
"So, is Georgibear coming?"
"Georgibear?"
"He's a bear,"
"Of course!"
I'm glad Hazell likes him, too, I like his special nickname. He's obviously really sweet to her, he took her to the hospital to see him. Maybe he could be like a father, an older brother to her. Just when I begin to fantasise this new happy family, the doorbell rings. My drunken father stumbles in first, collapsing on the filthy floorboards, moaning and reeking of alcohol. Next comes in George, we exchange friendly greetings and I invite him inside, although he'd probably rather stay out. Despite our casual behaviour, Hazell flings herself at him, wrapping her little monkey arms around his neck.
"Georgibear! Georgibear!"

"What's up, Georgibear?" I ask him, making him cringe. He tosses Hazell high in the air, making her squeal.
"Are you my daddy, Georgibear?" Hazell asks, my lungs freeze. For a second I can hardly breathe, George must be so freaked out.
"Um, do you want anything to drink, you two?" I ask politely, although it's obvious I can't even fix myself a drink.
"Um, no thanks." George plonks himself down on a chair somewhere.
"So, how's the wonderful life of Angela?"

George's P.O.V.

I cringe upon saying it, this all seems so awkward, I don't quite know what to say. I mean, if I feel the way I do about her I should at least know what to say, right? She is skinnier than ever, her motheaten clothes hanging off her like never before, her skin taut and sallow, her eyes are so depressing, she doesn't wear sunglasses at home so this is the first time I have ever seen her fully after the accident, her eyes no longer reassemble her old ones, they have healed, they are not mangled and gross, they are whole, but they are a horrible cloudy yellow colour and inside them lingers a permanent sad flicker bubbling away like a stream in a lifeless desert. Angela is the desert, she looks so terrible, her ribs are prominent even through her baggy clothes and her hair is still ripped from the accident. I want to kill whoever did this to her. My heart breaks seeing her like this.

"Nothing special," she replies, her voice is so different too, so sad, so full of loss and heavy with so many dried up tears. It is tight, too, as if it is a balloon filled with water until it can hold no more, ready to burst at any moment.
"Nothing special going on in the life of Angela."
Then she turns around to pick up Hazell and I notice the long, jagged pink scar running down the side of her face and down her neck, whoever knew a bush of thorns could do so much to one already lifeless girl.
"Georgibear. ROAR!" Roars Hazell, throwing herself at me. I draw myself out of the trance that the new Angela had inflicted on me and roar back, surprised at how how tight and squeaky my voice sounds. Just like Angela's, but less broken. Still, I can't draw my eyes away from her.
"You pity me, right?" She says, her voice even tighter with the effort of keeping so many tears inside her, unrevealed. She's right, as much as I hate to say it, I do pity her. I can't help it, but that's not why I came round. I came round because no matter what happens to her, no matter how many senses she loses, no matter how close to death she ventures, no matter how many scars decorate her body, she is still beautiful. She can think that why I do what I do is due to pity, she can doubt that the stars can shine and that the sun rises every morning. She can think that a year is a thousand days, but I hope more than any of those things, that she knows, not thinks that I feel this way about her. That from the moment of The Accidental Kiss That I Really Don't Know Was Accidental Or Not, she was beautiful to me. And that the relationship had advanced so fast between us, that I'd known what I know now for so long, and so soon after I met her, so soon after the rush of chemistry in that one kiss. That this single fact was one of the other things we know is true and beautiful but one of those things that we don't stop to appreciate, and notice fully until its really too late. But that's not true.
It's not too late.
With that in my mind, I bend down, I clasp her face in my hands.
And I kiss her.

******

Ohhhhh! Guys he kissed her! He kissed her fully, he kissed her truly. It happened ON PURPOSE THIS TIME. And as for the thing that George was thinking so deeply about. Well, you'll just have to figure that one out for yourself for the mo!!

¡Adiós!