Cassie's Corpse

Chapter 9

Life, for the next few months, resumed the fragile facade of normalcy that all of humanity stupidly took comfort in. Nicolai did no more than show up at times and breathe our air, and Rowland and I were on our tiptoes until January. But January was a long way from October and there were many happenings within that time frame.
  Rowland suffered no more heart attacks, Anna recovered from her long bout with the flu, Reese excelled in her online school and I, forbidden to do anything more than rest to be sure I was fully healed, spent my days writing and watching cheesy horror movies with Rowland.
  Halloween night was perhaps my first and only truly happy night spent on Earth. I was introduced to the Halloween traditions so many people loved, and I loved them too. We didn't go out and instead stayed in while rain thundered on the roof, watching movies and throwing popcorn at each other (Rowland and Reese, mainly). I sat with my eyes glued to the television, absently eating popcorn and,
to my great surprise, finding that I enjoyed it. I was so enthralled in my new human life that I brushed it off when Nicolai scratched inside my head. I picked apples at the orchard and cooked with Anna and read as many books as I could get my hands on (Stephen King, mostly. Rowland and Cassie were big fans of his). I forced myself into a mold in which I should not have fit comfortably but did, and I left my Angelic problems behind.
  Blasphemous as it may be, I enjoyed this life more than I had ever enjoyed Heaven.
  Looking back on it, maybe that's what pushed Nicolai to his breaking point.
Maybe, if I hadn't drifted off into the oblivious lifestyle that I so often criticized humans for having, I could have prevented it. I wasn't human. I was a poor excuse for an Angel and I wasn't a demon. I was nothing but mistakes and false superiority and it was all my fault.
  But Halloween. Halloween was when it all came together and when it all fell apart. It was the climax, the tipping point, the high that sent me in a downward spiral for weeks to come. It was the night I laughed the hardest and ate the most food without feeling sick, and it was the night Rowland found me on the porch after I snuck a fifth of Smirnoff, drunkenly hyperventilating and crying and begging my brothers and sisters for forgiveness, and he pulled me into his arms and let me cry and in my intoxicated haze I thought he was God and I confessed to him all of my Sins and I asked him to kill me.
  But the kicker? The final blow that was the catalyst to my desperate scrabble to try and save this family? He went along with it, and he told me he was proud of me, that it was all a test and I had passed, that I was still welcome in Heaven. That I still had hope.
  Being drunk was not the good time TV had lead me to believe. I ended up puking in Rowland's lap and he carried me to bed, and when I woke on November first my head felt like it had been beaten with a bat. A bat with nails in it. And Nicolai had done the beating. In short, I was in pain and I was never touching alcohol again for the rest of my Earthly existence.
  Christmas came and went, and I was not very good at the giving or receiving of gifts. Rowland helped me pick out Anna and Reese's, but I had no help as to what to get him. I gave him a pinecone and he laughed because I thought it was beautiful. I got books, which I was very happy with, and Rowland pulled me aside and gave me a hug and said that he was proud of me. I'd never had anyone tell me that and didn't know how to respond.
  I smiled and told him that I remembered watching the early hominids smash their brains in with rocks, and that I was mildly surprised the human race hadn't driven itself to extinction. He laughed and told me I shouldn't give him any more compliments.
  Overall it was the best I had ever felt, and the best I would ever feel again. Because then January came and suddenly I found the cold unbearable and the great empty quiet of the snow-covered landscape reminded me of Heaven's disapproving gaze. Nicolai visited Rowland and he began having dreams.
  His wife, begging him to save her, Nicolai slicing open her stomach and pulling out her guts. Anna's dead corpse walking towards him on broken legs, crying "daddy don't you love me any more?" Me, being ripped from my vessel, apologizing to him over and over and over, screaming "I'm sorry!" until my throat bled, wading into the lake with Nicolai following. He started waking up screaming and crying, and not long after that the panic attacks started without warning. I ended up watching old horror movies on the couch with him on more than one occasion, while he struggled to breathe and I struggled help him relax. I told him it would be alright. I promised him. I even stooped so low as to say Angels were watching over him, not me, good Angels, and they would keep us safe.
  I lied.