Nephilim: Children of Angels

12: If Nephilim Had Wings

"I didn't tell anyone I saw a demon." I demand, pressing my nails into my palm in order to bridal my indignation. I would rather die.

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"Jessie, walk Mia to the nurse." Mr. Kon instructed. Jessie quickly followed his command. "Let's get this mess cleaned up." Mr. Kon said to me in a reassuring tone.

Mr. Kon helped me clear up the mess. He allowed me to join another group and just observe.

"Sara. Principal Evans wants to see you in his office." Mr. Kon informed me when class was over.

"Hello. Principal Evans wants to see me. I'm Sara Paige." I said to the receptionist in the office.

"Yes. Go on back." She agreed, with a pitying smile.

The door is slightly ajar, but I knocked anyway.

"Please come in." I heard Principal Evans beckon from the other side.

Principal Evans and Mrs. Lamb sat behind a large desk. My dad sat across from them. They all looked at me a mixture of concern and apprehension marring their faces.

"Please sit, Sara." Principal Evans gestured to the seat beside dad.

"We need to discuss what happened in your chemistry class today." Principal Evans asserted. "Mia has gone to the hospital with serious chemical burns."

My heart was gripped with guilt. 'My poor Mia and her beautiful face. What have I done?' Tears sprang to my eyes. 'Why didn't I do it yesterday? Why am I such a coward?'

"I need to understand what happened, Sara." Principle Evans continued.

I nodded, choking back my tears to respond. "I haven't been feeling well today. I guess I'm tired. I thought I was going to drop the beaker I had and scared myself, so I screamed." I lied. Dad couldn't know what I saw. No one could. They'd have locked me up. "My scream scared Mia. She dropped her beaker of acid, and it splashed her face. I'm so sorry." I said, the flood gates opening. The pity on their faces didn't help. I knew I was pathetic. I didn't need the expressions of others to tell me so.

Dad let me stay home Saturday but threatened to check on me during lunch, so I had to wait until after.

I pretended to be asleep when he poked his head in my room. I heard him leave out the front door shortly after.

I jumped out of bed and quickly retrieved the pills from my parent's bathroom cupboard. Just as before I lined them up on the sink edge. I retrieved my cup of water and the blade from my jewelry box. I caught my reflection in the mirror above the sink. I looked terrible. I hadn't bothered showering last night or the day before. My hair was unbrushed, my eyes dull grey, the bags ever present under them darker than ever. Tears welled up. Painful memories reared their ugly head as they do when you allow your mind to much free time.

I got to work, uninterested in the memories. Uninterested in suffering another moment of thought. I took each pill carefully with a sip of water until all the bottles were empty. My mother's words in my head. "You hurt everyone around you. It's in your nature."

I considered the blade. I climbed into the tub, figuring it would be less mess that way. My old friend Laura was a dark character who often discussed the intricacies of suicide. She had a cutting habit that always gave me the willies. She would say horizontal cuts were attention seeking. I couldn't look, resulting in some unnecessary hesitation cuts. I hissed in pain, scrunching up my face at the pain