Lucas ✔️

Forty-Four

I walked home slowly, crying to myself and hoping that Cole and Janie knew I needed some time alone. It was hard to breathe as I sobbed, the view of my house making me hate everything even more. A ghoul rolled in front of me, its ghostly form brushing against me before plonking itself with the others on my clothes.

My hatred for them burned strong, but I couldn't bring myself to push them off. I hated what they represented – me, a girl who was destined to be hurt by a fallen angel called Lucifer. I wanted to go back in time and never meet him, but I knew that there was no way I could change anything. Uriel made it abundantly clear that neither I nor Lucas had any choice.

A ghoul dropped and hung from something around my neck, pulling a cord tight. Glancing down, I glowered at the leather strap and gold ring hanging from my neck. I thought I had given that to Cole? I touched it, rolling the ring between my fingers before glancing up at the sky and raising my middle finger.

"Fuck you, Uriel!" I cried, stomping up the stairs to my house, bashing the unlocked door open.

Inside was a mess – papers were strewn left and right, a table was knocked over, and there was a dusty outline where the television set had been before. I let out a sarcastic snort and rolled my eyes, slamming the door behind me.

"Of course," I muttered to myself. After all this time of leaving my house unlocked today is the day everything gets stolen.

I stomped over into the kitchen, eyeing the smashed plates and cups on the ground and groaned, hoping whoever had been through here at least saved one glass so I could have a drink. I ripped a cupboard opened angrily and looked inside. There was one – a plastic cup that had been shoved way in the back of the cupboard.

I pulled it out and glowered at it, crushing it slightly in my hand as I saw the picture. It was one of those stupid printed cups where you pay big bucks to get a shitty-five-cent cup with a picture pasted across it. I remember buying it for Dad back when I was little, choosing a picture of us smiling happily together. He had loved it – but now I hate it.

"Fuck this," I said, slamming the cup on the table and turning away from it, deciding I wasn't that thirsty after all.

The scar on my cheek ached as I stared at the girl across from me. I pulled my bandaged hand to my chest and spluttered at her, my brain not really functioning quick enough to keep up. She smiled at me, red lipstick peeling back from perfect pearly teeth, but her eyes were dead and glassy.

"Pearl? What the fuck are you doing in my house?" I asked roughly, pulling myself together. "You know, everyone thinks you're missing," I said, moving a step back as she took a step forward.

"Don't make this any harder, Lilith," she muttered, her voice sounding dangerously and eerily lower than it should have.

"Okay, what the fuck? Get out!" I snapped, running my hand along the bench behind me and looking for a weapon better than that stupid bloody plastic cup.

Pearl didn't wait for me to find something – instead, she lunged forward, long, clawed fingers reaching out to grab me. I screamed and dodged her grip, moving deftly and using my anti-rapist self-defence tricks to bend her wrist until I heard a small crack.

She didn't scream or hesitate, she simply acted as though nothing had happened and came for me again, this time with her other hand. I struggled against her and turned us around whilst avoiding her cat-like nails, pushing her against the bench. She snarled something odd and narrowed her eyes at me as we fought along the bench, knocking letters and my long-lost house keys and Dad's stupid fucking cup to the ground. Pearl tried to gouge my eye, so I pulled her hair back, using my forehead to headbutt her nose even though it really, really hurt.

"Stop!" I grunted roughly, ripping her perfect hair tightly right near her scalp. "What the fuck, Pearl? Just stop!" I screamed as her hand whipped out and slapped my cheek.

I reared back and glared at her, lifting my hand and deciding I was just going to have to knock her out. I never like Pearl anyway – plus, she was the one in my house attacking me. She grabbed something from behind her and lifted it, trying to swing it down at me. I let go of her hair and stepped back, sending her a crazy look as she smashed the wooden chopping board down, clipping the edge of the bench.

"What the fuck?! You crazy bitch!" I yelled, stepping away as she lifted it again.

I didn't wait for her to swing again. Moving swiftly, I sent a short jab to her throat, making her cough and choke as she swung the chopping board down. She was too busy choking to aim accurately and missed, so I used her momentum against her by grabbing the back of her neck and slamming her head against the bench hard. She crumpled and fell to the ground, a loud groan making its way from her mouth before she passed out on the glass-scattered floor.

My hands were shaking and I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself down as I looked at her. Pearl wasn't a fighter – so why the hell was she attacking me? I bent down, cringing slightly from the pain in my muscles and checked to make sure she was breathing. She was, but that didn't make me feel any better. A small sob made its way out of my chest as I stood, silent tears streaming down my face as I struggled to breathe.

"Oh, bravo," a voice murmured from behind me before pain bloomed from the back of my skull.

I fell harshly onto the ground, dots swimming in front of my vision as cracked glass stuck to my cheek. I could feel it cutting into my arms and a sharp pain with warmth grew from my ribs. I groaned in pain and blinked, but the burning on my head didn't dissipate. The last thing I saw before the darkness swallowed me was Dad's smiling face as he hugged me, our faces grainy and scratched on the outside of that stupid plastic cup.

I miss you, Dad.