My mind flashed with the simplicity of the moment I was in…how horrible it was, but so enticingly simple. The blade flashed in my hands as tears streamed down my cheeks. Seth had done this to me…No, not just Seth. Patch, Nora, Vee…they'd all done it to me too. I trusted them, and they betrayed me. My mind whirled with images of the past few months…the fallen angels, the Nephilim, the archangels…and Seth. In the midst of all of the chaos, there was him. Needless to say, I fell in love immediately with him. Seth was a fallen angel, not unlike Patch. I had fallen in love...I had finally started to trust people. I trusted Nora and Vee, they were my only friends...at least I thought they were. I trusted Patch because Nora trusted him...I mean, he was a good guy. He never did anything to betray that trust. Then again, none of them did...Until three days ago.
Three days ago, I was still Kathleen. Three days ago, I still had Seth. Three days ago, everything was okay. But three days ago, a group of Nephils attacked me. I tried to fight back, but their blows were far worse than the blows I was dealt at home. I could feel Seth near...he had an electric sense that radiated off of him...I heard Nora, Vee, and Patch whispering words I couldn't make out. They were so near. They stood there as I was repeatedly beaten...for nothing but a good, ill humored laugh for the Nephils. After they left, I wasn't able to get up. Patch, Vee, Nora...Seth...didn't help me. They stood there while I was nearly murdered and did nothing. They let me lay on the ground bleeding, gasping their names. Minutes passed...then hours before I was able to get up. The day after my attack, I saw them all, sitting at a table downtown, laughing and smiling. I went up to them, hoping I could join them...but when I got there, they all looked at me uncomfortably. I wondered what was going on, and as I opened my mouth to speak, Patch addressed the group with an icy "Let's go." I was left there, just like I was the night before, helplessly alone.
So here I sat, with a blade pressed firmly to my skin like I'd done so many times before. Suddenly, a noise sounded down the hall from my bedroom and I hid the knife quickly under my mattress.
"She's nothing but a burden to us," I heard the familiar yell of my father, "I want her gone! Do you hear me? GONE!" i heard my mother whimper as the audible collision of my father's backhand to her cheek. Then the worse happened. He stormed down into my bedroom and began spitting words at me almost as ugly as him.
My father was a tall man, well built with a hooked nose. His beady eyes seared my skin as he shook me. I was used to this though, I trained my thoughts on...on...I felt a tear slide down my cheek. I used to train my thoughts on Seth, and he would suddenly be there by my side. He used what I guess they called mind tricking to make my father stop. But now, when Seth had made his decision and I was left heartbroken, I had no one. My father's hand was nothing compared to the burning pain in my chest.
"You worthless piece of-" He screamed, kicking me hard in the ribs. I lay there shaking, trying to catch my breath when he spat more ugly words and left. I lay there, no movement or noise in the room aside from my soft whisper of "Seth, Nora, Patch, Vee," over and over. I laid there for a long time...long enough to where my breathing returned to normal, the ache in my ribs faded, and the pain in my chest grew red hot as I slowly faded into a troubled sleep.
Chapter Two:
Morning came without anything noteworthy. It was Saturday, so mom was working and dad was at the bars all day. I had the house to myself until Sunday morning. I gingerly picked myself off the floor, mindful of the stinging spots where my father had hit me. I raised my shirt to find a deep purple and red bruise blossoming over my middle torso. I sighed, walking to the cracked mirror on my wall. At least he didn't leave anything I couldn't hide.
There was nothing for breakfast as my mother hadn't run to the store last night...or the night before...or the night before that...there was rarely food anywhere in my house. I sat myself down on the ugly granite counter top, feeling tears sting painfully at my eyes. Involuntarily, I let them fall. At least there wasn't anyone there to punish me for letting myself cry. After a few moments, I slid off the counter and grabbed my purse. I had more money then I let on to my parents, I worked after school and I used the money to buy what I needed. I would use some of it now to but a real breakfast.