Broken Angel

Chapter 4

The room was pitch black, and all he could hear was himself breathing. A gust of wind hit him like a brick, and then he realized he was outside.

But where are the stars and the moon? He tried to move. Again and again. Until he started crying, knowing there was no hope. "You idiot." A voice whispered.

"How can you be so stupid?" Another chimed in.

"You can never leave." A deeper, huskier voice whispered.

"No." He said, over-powering the whispers, but they became louder. "No. NO." He screamed.

Michael jolted out of bed, gasping for air. A cold sweat drip down his back.

"It was only a dream." He whispered to himself. The sun shone in his room and he laid back down. It's impossible to sleep in when you have dreams like that every night. He got up, taking off his boxers and picking up new ones off of the clean pile next to his bed. God, his room was a mess. And he knew it, but figured he had no one to impress, so why clean it? The sadness began to set in. Just another day in the cruel world, where he is unwanted. Michael picked up a shirt and some skinny jeans, and put them on with little effort. "Please let this be a better day." He whispered to himself before hearing a knock at the door. Stumbling through clothes and wrappers, he made it out of his room and to the apartment door. It swung open as he pulled the handle and before him stood Cat.

"Hi, want some pizza?" She said, motioning to the box of pizza in her arms. He gave her a weird look, but nodded and took the box politely.

"You do know its 8 in the morning, right?" He asked softly. Cat shrugged and smiled.

"If pizza in the morning is wrong, I don't wanna be right." Her response made Michael smile, and they both took a slice before plopping onto the couch. "So why do you live alone?" She asked, and he tensed. The brunette girl put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a reassuring look.

"Well, my dad found out I was depressed. He didn't want to deal with it. He didn't exactly throw me out, he kind of just asked me to leave and I didn't want to be a burden so I did." Fondness of the memory began to play upon his facial expressions.

"What about your mom? Didn't she want you to stay?" And again, Michael's hesitance to tell her was present. He ran his tongue over his teeth and began to feel embarrassed and self conscious, for he had not brushed them yet.

"I have to go to the bathroom." He told her quietly and she gave him a concerned look.

"Promise you'll tell me about her when you come back?" She said.

"I promise." He said quietly before disappearing into the bathroom.

He looked at himself, disgust written upon his face. His hair was a mess, and his eyes were droopy. The toothbrush sat on the edge of the sink and his picked it up, turning on the water. Toothpaste was always a challenge. He was so weak, and either squeezed too much on the brush or not enough. This was one of the "too much" times. He squeezed the tube and out shot the paste all over the mirror and in the sink, but at least this time it got on his toothbrush too. Sighing, he ran the brush under the hot water and began brushing his teeth. Why did he hate to look at himself in that mirror? Maybe he hated looking at someone who was so much of a disappointment, even his dad asked him to leave. That day, not only did he leave his house, he left his family. No longer was he invited the family reunions, weddings, anything that had to do with those people. They closed him out like he had the world. And thats why he sat alone in his apartment, wondering whether today was the day he'd kill himself. After all, nobody would even notice if he was gone besides his landlord. And that only because his rent wouldn't be paid. As he spit out the paste and ran the brush under hot water once again, he looked down. From his toes to his head, he was a failure. Michael shook his head and looked back up, running his hands through his hair just so it wasn't as tangled. The door opened and he looked out. Cat had turned on the tv. She looked up at him as he walked back into the living room, turning off the tv and turning to him while he settled down next to her.

"So, tell me about your mother." She said and he nodded.

"When I was about 6 or 7, I cant remember, she buckled me into her car and began driving. I remember the radio saying our names, and saying that we were missing. And I remember thinking, 'We're not missing, we're right here.' She kept driving faster and faster and then she stopped at a dock next to a lake and she turned to me and said 'I'm going to set you free my angel.' But then someone opened the door and pulled me out and my mom was screaming 'THE LORD WANTS HIM BACK, I MUST GIVE HIM BACK' and men took her out of the car and into theirs and I haven't seen her since. My dad never talked about her again, or explained the situation. So when I was about 14 I looked up her name and it told me that she tried to drown me because god told her to. Because apparently I am an angel and god needed me back. She was sent to a nut house and yeah, thats my mother for you." He finished and sympathy and sadness were in the eyes of the girl next to him.

"I'm sorry." She said, wrapping her arms around him.

"It's okay." He whispered in her neck as he held her close.