Living Angels: Mystery of the Living

Prologue

This creativeness of the author does not account the beliefs of all but just to give life to her imaginary world with Angels we call. 

Every bit of the story came from the Author's widely imagination and there could be people and events from read theories, books and hypothesis. 

The characters does not subject any specific person in real life so may I suggest to read at your own risk. 

Being eaten by a story is no one's responsibility. 

Read with an open mind. xoxo

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"Here you go Mom, I brought your favorite Cheetos again and lots of fried chicken just like how we loved it. Seems like we were being unhealthy these past few days Mom, I'm sorry for missing our days lately."

I choked back the sobs about to escape my throat. It has been a few days since I have been struggling to focus on my duties in my life. School asks tons of requirements and at home has quite narrow space for studying.

"You should eat everything that I'll leave to you Mom okay? I'll bring healthier foods for the next few days I promise, it's just that there is not enough space at home to cook special foods for us."

My mom believe in angels, such superstitious beliefs with butterflies and many more about souls and heaven. 

I honestly used to believe in them too but after everything that happened in my life since my Mom died, I don't know anymore how to deal with everything. But atleast in heaven and God, I still believe. He knows how much I want to ask Him everything and bring me my Mom back.

"I should go now Mom, I'm running a bit late for school. I'll see you again send me hugs and kisses to Dad."

As a walk away from her tombstone, I can see in my peripheral vision a guy in a leather jacket walking matching my pace. The weird thing is I can see his dark blue eyes beaming brightly from the sun rays or maybe it's just what I though. It's hella creepy yeah, after all I'm at the place of the dead.

I can still sense that there is someone watching over me as I reached the school but I don't see anybody unfamiliar. Maybe it's just the feeling that cemeteries give to everyone. But something creepier came up when I walked pass my terror professor.

"Miss Sinclair, can I have a talk with you?" so here comes nothing.

"Yes Miss Suarez, what is it this time-- I mean coming after you Ma'am." 

"What is it this time? Really Cassie? That. Should. Be. MY. Line." I know, I know let's get to the point you're just wasting both of our time.

"My apologies Ma'am."

"What is wrong with you this time? It seems like something is bothering you and care to tell me what is it? Because as much as I am concerned, I want you to focus." Well, I didn't expect any of what she had said. It blew my mind the she knows how to be concerned especially to me.