Angelic Darkness

Prologue

~ Prologue: ~

"Audrey! Come on, hun, it's not summer, anymore!" My eyes flutter to my aunt's voice reverberating through the hall up the stairs, struggling to focus on the large blue numbers displayed in front of my still unclear vision. It is already 8:15 AM and I haven't even gotten out of bed yet. My small body jolts out of bed, escaping the warmth of the heavy covers that lay on top of me seconds ago.

Today is going to be my first day as a Junior in high school, or as I'd like to call it: "Advanced Hell".

"Auddie!" I hear heavy footsteps right outside the door, nearing toward my room which was the only one on this side of the house.

"No need for the pillows, Nat, I'm up!" I yell back in attempt to avoid her entrance into my room. Every time I don't get out of bed after three "Audrey's," Aunt Nat would have to come in here and pester me to get up, usually by striking me with a bunch of pillows until I surrender my sleep.

A weak curl of my lips commences on to my mouth at the thought of pillows being thrown at me every morning. My mom used to do that to me as a child when I couldn't get up to go to day care. Even in her last days, indisposed by illness, she would force her fragile body up the wooden staircase, all the way to my bedside to make sure I was awake and ready for school. The smile quickly fades away, remembering how soon it all had to end.

"You better be getting dressed up there, young lady! I'll take off in 15 minutes!" By the location of her voice, I am assuming Nat is already down to the first floor. Ignoring the warning, my brain is flooding itself with hurtful memories of my mother. I've been trying to push it away for over 10 years, but some things you can't just easily let go of.

My eyes stare blankly at the piece of glass reflecting the short image in front of me, clutching long, dark hair into my right hand and carefully tying it into a ponytail. Skinny black jeans hugged my bottom half, with a plain red T-shirt clinging onto my small torso.

Without thought, my legs make their way into the half-bathroom inside the room. Absentmindedly, my right hand moves the thick plastic with short bristles smoothly along my braced teeth after nearly forgetting to add toothpaste. My mind is off in a different world, almost unaware of my actions.

It wasn't only Mom who left me grow up without her, as my Dad also followed in her steps just about 4 years ago. They left me here all alone in this world, to be forced to live with my aunt and her husband, William, who often goes by Bob, to take care of and continue raising me.

I was finally able to live without my mother when I was around 8, getting used to the routine of having to do things alone when Dad was gone. But what happened 4 years ago led me to the point of interrogating my aunt and grandparents. A feeling in my gut told me something was wrong; and up to this day, I haven't given up my mission.

~~~~~~~

My parents had left me in absolute despair for over years now, taking away all my ecstasy in life. I'm often in my room brainstorming and obstructing the rest of the world from my head: They told me Dad had died in a car accident, but I, his own daughter, couldn't go to his funeral. When the local church pastor came over to have a talk with my aunt and Bob, they indelicately importuned me into staying in my room and doing homework, but it's not what I did. And over the summer, my grandparents seemed to be excessively perturbed with loose thoughts almost every time I visited their farm and stayed over.

Using all my intellectual knowledge and understanding, when I'd be forced to stay away from "adult talk," I'd choose to try and figure it out instead. I didn't think anything could be out of place back when I was 12 at the time of the incident, but as I grew up and understood more, I'd been closely observing my household and grandparents, who would offensively counter my words about the accident when I brought it up.

A sudden increasing sound arouse from my iPhone back on the nightstand, signaling me that I only have 5 minutes left before Aunt Nat takes off to drive me to school. And that is when I realized I've been immersed into the past for quite a while.

I hastily charge back to the bed and dip myself down on my left knee to pull out the large, plastic shoe holder from the small space under the mattress. I grab my favorite, black All-Star Converse, and urgently snatch them on, not bothering to tie the laces. I abruptly yank my small, black backpack right off the wooden chair by the room door and bolt my way toward the first floor.

"'You ready?" Nat questions with a bored gesture, leaning casually at the base, as my feet run down the long flight of stairs. She knew the answer to her own question, so I decide to restrain my response.

I cough uncontrollably as my lungs are shortened of breath from the surrounding cloud of smoke flaming up the insides; four years of this gas chamber and I'm still not used to it. Despite the fact, I know Nat couldn't care less about how much her smoking has affected me or will do on the long run. Agitated by the dark fumes, my small hands instantly twist the door knob in desperation to escape this slow death.

The fresh scent of warm summer air floods my nostrils as the bright beams of sunlight shine through the leaves of the large Oak tree in our front yard. Aunt Nat is soon in front of me, leading our way to the old, futile piece of white-colored steel she calls, "car".

She pries the driver's door open as I head toward the rear end of the vehicle to store my school bag for the short trip to campus.

Slowly lifting up the trunk door (car boot), I notice a strange car down the street from the corner of my eyes. Hesitantly, I slide the bag's right strap off my shoulder, my line of sight now traveling its way to the obscured black van parked only a few yards away from our own car at the intersection. The front is facing the other street and the left side is the one facing us--me.

Someone is seated in the driver's seat, one hand placed on the steering wheel and the other behind their head. A dark beret is covering his head--assuming it was a 'he' by finding no hair on the head--but I can't make out the color from behind the deep shade of the front windows. From behind the black sunglasses that hung in place on top of his nose, I feel his mysterious eyes penetrate right through mine, as if he already knew me a long time ago. I almost feel my heart jut out from through my chest when Nat suddenly bellows at me from inside the old Honda.

"Auddie! What's taking you so long? We're going to be late!" My head sharply turns to face the direction of the voice, trying to slow my heart rate. After realization hits me, I anxiously glance back to where my anonymous friend parked a few seconds ago as I stretch my right arm up to pull the back door down, discovering the truck is no where to be found.

I am too frightened to feel my mouth widely agape, my feet hurrying me back to the passenger door to tell Nat what had just happened.

"You're back to imagining things, Aud. This neighborhood is safe, no one's out to get you," she growls, eyes on the still road ahead and hands on the gear shift ready to take off. "Come on, hop in!" Her voice raises in nuisance.

A deep sigh escapes my dry mouth, trying to shrug off the thought as I climb into my seat.

Maybe she's right, I think to myself as the car speeds off onto the narrow road.