The love of an angel

Bored.

Boredom. The route of all loneliness and sadness and depression. However, it can also be the route of happiness.
Here's a story about how boredom made someone's life.

Echo falls. That's where I live. It's a city just off the coast of California. The place is cold most of the year. There is one season that is hot though. Summer. Obviously. I love winter, though. I prefer the cold to the heat. Something about... snow.. it's fascinating to me. I'm not quite sure what is it. Maybe the way it falls. The trees are full of pink flowers in summer, so when the snow falls, so do the pink petals. It creates such harmony, I can't help but watch in mesmerisation.

Sometimes when I look up at the sky, I wonder, 'if I were to get high enough, would I be able to touch the clouds? Or even the stars maybe?'
The thoughts are pointless, but that's all I can think. In a world so dull, I need at least something to make my life a little exciting. The girls at my school have boyfriends to consume their time. For me, everytime I like a guy, they always turn out to be dating. Sometimes I feel like nothing good will happen to me. But I always keep in mind what my mother said, "every bad thing, is followed by a good. Just you wait, you'll get your prize for following through in life"
My mother was my best friend. Key word was. She died a few years ago. I imagine her calling me stupid over little things sometimes. I hope she's proud of me. I'm doing as she said, I going through life head on. I love you mum.

School ended a few weeks ago so I have nothing to do. Usually in the winter holidays I like to read by myself or catch up on Netflix shows. Boring, I know. Sometimes I go to bookstores to see what nerdy boys I can watch. I know, I'm guilty of being a creep. It's not my fault though, what else am I meant to do. Plus, looking is all I can do. Not like I'll get a boyfriend with my looks.
I have short brunette hair, split ends scuffing it up. Along black glasses, that circle my narrow hazel eyes. I have a flat chest, which makes me look kinda boy-ish.

The guys and girls at my school pick on me for it. But there's not much I can do about it. It's not like I'm going to get plastic surgery for it. I would never do that anyway.
I have two tattoos on my arm. One nearer to the shoulder, saying the words,
'treasure what you have, because it won't last forever'
And the second is the wing of an angel.
My mum used to always love angels. She told me all these stories about them, like how every year a chosen angel would get to come to earth and be a human. I believed the stories for so long. But then at 11 I started believing they were just stories and that's all there was to it.
Sometimes there are times I believe they are real, but then I remember the reality of our world. If angels came to our world they would try making it better, wouldn't they? I don't know.
Enough about all that nonesense. You see? I think way too much.

Now that school is over I'm chilling at home doing nothing. I'm 16 and I'm in year 11. I just finished my exams. They were hard, but I have faith in myself.

I'm thinking about maybe heading to the library. Maybe doing some spying. I may be bored, but that doesn't mean I can't stare at boys.

Opening the closet I hear the wind howling outside as the snows falls on the Windowsill. 
What should I wear?
I look through my closet contemplating what I should wear. Maybe if I wear something cute I could get a guy to notice me.
Stupid I know, I'm desperate for love. But it's not like I'm wanting them just for sex. I'm seeking something much more raw and pleasurable.
Love.
I see an outfit that catches my eye.
I lay the clothes on the bed in an orginised fashion.

"Perfect"
I mutter. My words subtle, yet tinted with a hint of excitement.

I go exit my bedroom and walk to the kitchen.
I live in an apartment alone. My dad bought it for me. He pays all the tax bill and any expenses. But don't think that makes me a spoiled brat. This is temporal. When I get a steady job I'll pay taxes myself and pay him back.
I enjoy living by myself, although, it gets lonely sometimes. I guess that's just inevitable, though.

Grabbing the house keys, and shoving a slice of toast in my mouth, I exit the apartment and walk to the elevator. Still chewing my slice of toast, I hear a farmiliar voice.
"Hey Emma!" He says to me.
A familiar looking man, in his early fifties, steps into the elevator. Micheal! Finally swelling the last of the toast, I make out a sentence,
"Hey, Micheal. How's Suzy?"
Suzy is Micheals's wife. They've been married for thirty-odd years. Sometimes I wonder how they've been together for so long. But then, I guess some people just love each other so much.

The walk to the library is short. About ten minutes from the block of flats i live at. Walking up the many steps, I spot a boy. Maybe sixteen or seventeen. He enters the library, and I follow after him. We end up walking the same section.
Coincidence?
The section is mystery. I try looking for my favourite book, wanting to read it for the millionth time. Suddenly I notice it on a close to middle shelf, and as I reach for it so does the boy. Neither of us realising, we both grab the book. My hand touches the cover of the book, while the boys lands on top of mine. His skin is warm. I like it.
We got pull away awkwardly. I look away, luckily not catching his eye. I look back, hoping he isn't looking. To my luck, he is. Our eyes meet.

In view is a tall, charming, sexy guy.
Damn!
My mind fries, as I try to wrap my head around the boy standing before me. He offers me a gentle smile, and i smile back, hoping I'm not giving away how hot I think looks.
I'm shocked he hasn't left yet. Maybe the cute outfit is paying off?
"Were you going for this book?" He says, pulling out the book I was wanting to read.
"Yeah...." I say, laughing awkwardly.
He reaches for my hand, pulls it up to mid-hight, and puts the book in my hand.
"Enjoy." He says, smiling and walking past me.
I stand there, in shock, book in hand.
Shaking my head, I walk out of the 'mystery' book section and enter the lounge. Getting comfy on a soft chair, I notice the boy again.
His tall figure effortlessly reaches a book on the top shelf. The section he is in is 'fantasy'. I close the book in my hands and admire the view.
Damn. He looks like a body builder.
Without realising I bite my lip. I get so lost in my imagination, I don't see that he is staring right at me.
He thinks I'm a weirdo! Great!
I shoot my head down and look at the book. Suddenly realising it's upside down I turn it right way up. Still in a trance, I close my eyes. Imagining things no child should.