Emily Bucher
Save Me My Angel
Wind whipped the trees into submission, ripping some from their bases altogether. Rain and hail mixed, leaving me unable to see anything more than what was right in front of me, always more and more trees. Blood poured from my already broken body, and the hail beat down on my bruises like it knew I was in pain and didn't care.
To tired to continue stumbling through this forest where I had been left to die, I collapsed into the bed of moss and decaying leaves. I let the smell of it envelope me. Would this be the last thing I ever new? The wet, cold ground and the pain that made me want to give up altogether and die? It seemed I would get my wish.
I watched as the rain ran down one arm, mixing with the blood I was fast losing. It was a runny red as it finally dripped off my finger into the puddle of bloody water already pooling around me.
I didn't bother screaming. No one would hear me. Instead, I thought. About questions I'd probably never know the answer to.
Would I ever be found? Dead or Alive? Did it even matter? No one was left to claim me. Not as a daughter, or a sister. My friends….they would know. They would see through whatever lies that evil man came up with.
But no one would listen. Because what could James have ever done to hurt me? Everything. Anything. But few would believe Angela, or Jessica, or pale little Alice. Or even her sister Rosalie.
I thought then about Emmett. My older brother, who had left to hunt one day and never came back. They searched for so long…All they found was his blood…so much blood…No one could survive this, they'd said. There's no way. But I wouldn't believe them. How could my brother, my big strong Emmett, be gone? It was wrong. It was evil. But it was true.
And now her story would be the same.
It was as I began to accept this fact, lying in my bed of decay with blood, trees, and the wind as my only company, that a pale figure suddenly appeared. He looked so heavenly…looking up at him made me forget all my pain. Forget the storm. Forget everything.
As he looked down at me, his eyes showed something I didn't want to see. He looked torn. There was a choice he didn't want to make.
"Don't be sad," I whispered. That he even heard me was a miracle.
"What?" He seemed startled that I could even talk. Or maybe that I new about his internal debate.
"Don't be sad. Angels shouldn't be upset." I felt the flow of blood grow weaker…I was fading, and fast.
"I'm no Angel," he shook his head. The fight still seemed to be raging inside him. But then he looked down at me, into my eyes in a way no one ever had, and nodded as if this settled things. Then he did something I didn't expect. He picked me up, so gently, and began to run. So fast, I was surely flying.
"Well, you're my Angel," I whispered