Mark Smith looked back down at his phone, nervously. The time was still the same, 6:26 PM on June 6th of 1996. He didn't know what he expected to see, the last time he checked was five minutes ago, and it said 6:21 PM on June 6th of 1996, so at least he knew that his watch was still working. He had been pacing the same hall for at least twenty minutes now. His wife, Margret Smith, was in labor in the room right in front of him/ (Room 128, he had asked the nurse five times. Possibly six now.) Mark knew he should be in that room, but he was nervous. Pre-father jitters, the same nurse who had informed him it was room 128 had told him, but it was something else. He just couldn't put his finger on it. Suddenly, the door opened and a doctor, Doctor Jones or something like that, walked out with a smile on her face.
"Congratulations, Mr. Smith. Your wife gave birth to a healthy baby girl. Eight pounds, six ounces, black hair, green eyes." She said. Mark's features softened at the mention of his new-born daughter and he smiled back at Doctor Jones or something, he would have to ask Margret the doctor's name.
"Can I go in to see Maggie?" He asked. She nodded and stepped out of the doorway to let Mark through. He cautiously entered the bland room and looked around. The walls were a certain gray color that brought about a nostalgia for his days back in middle school, staring off into the distance during math instead of actually paying attention. The windows were guarded laxly by transparent green drapes, and his wife, beautiful as ever with her natural blonde hair and blue eyes, lay on a small hospital bed, hooked up to a few monitors so that the doctors could keep an observant eye on her, cradling a small baby wrapped in a blanket in a way that, for some reason, reminded Mark of a burrito. Maggie smiled at the sight of her husband and waved him closer. Mark smiled and walked closer, sitting on the edge of her bed. The new mother was the first to break the silence.
"Oh, Mark, she is absolutely precious. She looks just like you." Maggie said. Mark looked down at the child rested in her arms and smiled at her. Maggie wasn't kidding, the girl did look exactly like he did. She was rested, her whole hand wrapped around Maggie's pinky, attempting to pull her mother closer. Mark looked at the child and smiled softly.
"Does she have a name yet?" He asked. Maggie shrugged and looked down at the child, attempting to move her pinky, but the young girl protested, gripping onto her mother's finger tightly. Her parents both chucked softly at that. "She's sassy." Mark pointed out.
"I like that. Sasha Belle. Sasha, because she's sassy, and Belle because she's beautiful, just like you."
At 6:26 AM on June 6th, 2014, Sasha's alarm went off. She groaned and blindly slammed her dresser a couple times before successfully managing to turn it off. Her phone buzzed and she grabbed it from where it was plugged in on the floor of her rundown apartment room. The floral wallpaper was peeling from the walls, a pick from the previous owner, Sasha hated it. The sink was leaking, a constant tinkle of water could always be heard coming from the bathroom. It was a horrible place to live in, but she couldn't really afford anything better. She looked at her phone, which was very bright in the darkened room. It was a text from her best and only friend in the whole world, Collin Whitten.
Sash, Poppy is getting pretty pissed. You better get down here now. Xx
Sasha rolled her eyes at that and quickly typed a reply before rolling out of bed. There was no point in making it, considering she was just going to get back in it a couple of hours later anyway, and no one ever came over. She shuffled off to the bathroom to take a quick shower. She quickly threw on a hoodie and a pair of baggy sweatpants and started walking towards her car. It was colder than it should have been outside, but Sasha tended to ignore things like that. She climbed into her car and turned it on. The engine sputtered and then died, and she mentally cussed out whatever deity she still believed in. Her dad had been a mechanic before he passed away, and so she knew how to fix it, but it was still a hassle, especially when she was already running late. She groaned and climbed out of the car, running a hand along the hood of her Chevy. "Come on, darling, you still have something left in you." She murmured. Surprisingly, her car suddenly started up. She raised her eyebrows, not having expected that to actually work, and got back in the car.
"Hello Sasha." A voice from the passenger's side said. Sasha jumped and then laughed upon seeing that it was just Collin. The normal blonde bloke sat next to her with an innocent smile written across his face. She smiled back at him and touched his arm lightly as if to assure herself that he was real and indeed there.
"Collin. You scared me." She said. Suddenly, her phone rang. She looked down and Collin's number came up. Her smile feel as she reluctantly answered. With a shaky voice she shakily asked, "H-hello?"
"Sasha hey. Where are you? Poppy is freaking out." Collin over the phone said. Sasha shakily hung up and looked up at Collin. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Eventually, she managed to choke out,
"W-who the hell are you?" She said. Collin, not the real Collin obviously, dropped the fake smile and it was replaced by a far creepier one. He gave her a single handed wave and then, without a warning, Sasha blacked out.
When she came to, there was a bright white light in her face. She blinked once and slowly sat up. The room was entirely white and there were no windows or doors as far as she could see. A man with brown hair and a suit, who wore no facial expression as far as she could tell, came to stand next to her. Sasha shivered in fear and he sensed this, cautiously placing a hand on her shoulder. "It is alright. I will not hurt you. My name is Sachiel, and I am an angel." Sachiel paused reluctantly, as if the angel thing weren't bad enough. "My brothers and I believe that warriors of hell may be after you."
YOU ARE READING
Insightful
Teen Fiction“It is alright. I will not hurt you. My name is Sachiel, and I am an angel.” Sachiel paused reluctantly, as if the angel thing weren’t bad enough. “My brothers and I believe that warriors of hell may be after you.”
