Exiled

Chapter 2: The End of My Life (as I know it)

       I woke up in silk, comfortable silk. I rolled over and snuggled in. Suddenly, everything came crashing down on my mind and I remembered everything that had happened. Dylan’s last look and Anastacia’s forgiveness immediately hit me. I couldn’t take the force. I began to wail and cry and scream form the pain it was causing me.

“YOU’RE THE DEVIL!!! I HATE YOU!!! I HOPE YOU DIE, YOU DEMON, YOU KILLER, YOU BASTARD!!!” I had so much more to say, but my choking cries stopped me and before I got control to start yelling again Angel walked in as calm as can be, like it was normal for him or something.

“Will you shut up? You are right about a few of those things, though. I am a demon, killer, and bastard. I never knew my dad, but, oh well. I found and killed him later. Oh, and I’m not the devil, but if you want, he owes me a favor, you can meet him.” He laughed coldly.

“Leave me alone!” I started yelling and screaming and kicking.

“I will leave you, only if you shut up,” he said in just a way that I heard him over everything I was doing and I knew I needed to stop, because if I didn’t I’d be in deep trouble. I realized that, but I didn’t care.

“KILL ME, ANGEL! KILL ME!”

“Don’t test me, Saphira.”

“I don’t want to live!”

“Well, think of it this way, if I kill you it won’t be as nicely as the way I killed Anastacia or Dylan or Larry. By the way… you’re a trophy for a job well done.”

“Leave me alone, Angel. Just leave me alone,” I said sniffling and catching my breath.

“I’m leaving you alone only for you to take a shower and get dressed. There’ll be clothes waiting on the bed when you get back.” I know it shouldn’t have but the sound of his voice made me want to do as he said and his accent didn’t help me resist. I laid there and squeezed my eyes closed until I knew he was gone. The pitiful thing was that he still called out to my body in ways no one else had or could. And somehow I managed to never indulge. I would remain forever pure, because I wasn’t going to marry him and I knew he wouldn’t let me live my own life. He was going to keep me forever his and I would have to deal. And to think at some point I had imagined our wedding.

“What was I thinking? How could I have thought anything good could come of this? I’m so stupid! I knew it was too good to be true! I wanted him to be my everything! Ha! For what? A sexy accent, body, and face! No! Not just that but everything he said seemed so real! He’s a Liar! Ugh! I hate myself!” By the time I realized I was speaking aloud I was already crying in the shower. I just wanted to scream until my throat was raw and I had no voice and my head hurt so bad that I couldn’t take it anymore. I saw, more like zoned in on, the razor sitting on the edge of the tub next to the shaving cream. I had told my brother I would never cut myself again, but for some reason I figured he’d advocate the very act. I grabbed it and looked at it as if it were foreign only because of the intentions I had for using it. It had been three years. I flipped my arm up where my palm was facing the ceiling. I dragged the razor parallel to the scars already there and the veins in my arm, down the river not across it. I reveled in the pain and watched the blood pill out of my veins and down the drain. I just stared at it even when I heard the loud commotion.

“Don’t do that!” Angel growled taking the razor from after ripping down the shower curtains.

“What do you care?”

“Just don’t,” he growled close to my face. “From now on you can’t be trusted.”

“So what, you’ll sit on the toilet and wait for me to finish my shower,” I said sarcastically.