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On to the chapter!
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Ever Watchful Angel
Chapter 1: Birthday Miseries
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Today is my seventeenth birthday, and I'm going to be having the biggest bash on the remote island I live on, Nova Roma. My name is Amara Aquilla and I have the strangest obsession with fire. I'm not a pyro, and I have no explanation, but every time I see a flame, I feel as if I am complete, as if I belong with the flames. I've only told one person about, I guess you can say, my love for fire, and that's my grandmother. She told me that instead of being weird, I was special, special to be intoned with nature, special to be different, unique, gifted.
My party starts in about two hours, and I'm not even ready! I've been in my bathtub of scorching hot water, which is the only way I like my baths, for at least over two hours now! Forcing my body to leave the wonderful warmth of the water, I managed to get out of the tub, unplug it, and wrap my thin, naked body up with a faded red towel I had laid aside for myself. Wiping the fog off my mirror, I gave myself a one over, to make sure I was decently clean for my guests, since baths are amazingly soothing, but aren't exactly the most cleanly. I saw my dark brown hair, darker now that it was wet, as well as matching my few shades lighter brown eyes, and my unnaturally brown skin. Since they all looked fine, I grabbed another towel and begun to dry my long hair.
Just then, a knock came to the door of my bathroom. "Amara Aquilla! Your party will begin in less than two hours! Get out of that tub, and get ready!" a female voice, my mother's, called through the door.
My mother is a beautiful woman. Strangely, she and I look nothing alike. She has bright blue eyes that seem, to me anyway, to hold a secret, and very long, curly blonde hair. She is also extremely pale compared to me. (A/N: If any of you have read the comics, you'll realize that I'm describing the Amara Aquilla of the comics.) While my father does look more like me, with his brown hair and eyes, but he is still pale compared to my skin. That is why my skin is unnatural.
"All right!" I call back. Exiting my bathroom, I entered my bedroom, heading towards my closet for some clothes. Hmm… what should I wear? I asked myself as I begun to search through my closet. Rummaging through until I reached the back, I finally found something. "Ah-ha!" I exclaimed happily, holding the piece of clothing up above my head. What I found was a thin strapped, pale orange dress that when I am wearing it, reaches just past my knees. It's one of my favourites!
After putting on my dress, I rush down the stairs, and just I was about to enter the kitchen, to help my mother with the snacks, when the telephone rang. "I've got it!" I call to my mother, picking up the phone. "Hello?" I answered.
"Hello? Amara?" a male voice that I recognized as our family doctor said, quite gravely. It troubled me that his voice sounded so grim.
"Yes," I replied. "What is it?" I then asked, slightly worried.
"It's your grandmother, her illness has turned for the worse, and she wants to see you, before-
"All right! I'll be there in ten minutes!" I exclaimed loudly before he could finish his sentence. I couldn't bear to hear what he would say, even though I knew what he was going to say.
"Al-all right," he said, surprised and shaken by my sudden outburst. I hung up the phone so sloppily and quickly that it fell off, but I didn't care as I ran as fast as I could out the front door.
As I mounted my bike, I could hear my mother call out to me, "Amara!? Where are you going!?"
I ignored her, and rode my bike speedily towards my grandmother's house. Please, oh please don't die! Please! I silently pleaded desperately.
When I arrived, I didn't even try to put my bike down nicely or to the side; I just dropped it and ran up the front stairs of her porch. I couldn't help thinking of all the times I lazily walked up those steps, my grandmother awaiting for me, knitting or doing some craft so peacefully. I felt the tears swell, but I brushed them aside as I opened the front door. Pounding up the stairs, I flung open the door, nearly unhinging it, as well as frightening the hell out of our family doctor, though I paid that no mind. Just barely had I caught my breath, when I lost it again. I couldn't help but gasp at the state my grandmother was in. There was my grandmother, so small it looked like the bed would swallow her any second, sickly pale, even for her dark skin, and was breathing in such unsteady rasps, I felt sick.
Dashing to the side of the bed, the one where she was facing, I kneeled down and grasped her small, withered hand. Somewhere, in the back of my head, I kind of acknowledged our doctor's presence, but I barely noticed that he was in the room, or when he left. All my attention was on my grandmother. "Grandmother! Grandmother? You're going to make it! Right? Right, grandmother?" I asked hurriedly and confusedly, but she understood me. She always could understand me.
"I'm sorry my little fire child, but I will have to leave you," my grandmother replied weakly. She was trying her best to sound strong, but I could tell she was completely drained. Her sounding so weak brought tears to my eyes, falling quickly.
"Will you at least go to the heaven of your stories?" I asked through my sobs.
"No. I am not special enough, I will go to the land of the no longer living," my grandmother replied, trying, but failing, to give me a comforting squeeze from the hand I am holding. (A/N: if you're not special enough to reach heaven when you die, you either go to the land of the no longer living if you're good, or hell if your bad.)
"So, you'll never see your guardian angel again?" I asked, controlling my sobs, as more tears fell down my face.
"No, my little fire child, I knew that I would never see him again, when he left me," my grandmother told me sadly, her voice wavering slightly from the pain.
This made me cry and sob some more. "Hush child, do not worry, I've lived a long and fulfilling life. I will be fine, but before I go…" she takes something out of her dress pocket, "here," my grandmother said as she places whatever she took from her pocket onto my hand. It is a necklace, with a stunning silver chain. Though the most beautiful thing about this necklace was its pendant. The pendant was made out of glass, shaped like a flame, and when I turned it, I swear that I saw fire burning inside of it.
"Th-thank you," I managed to say, still crying.
"Now my little fire child, I must leave you. Be strong, I love you dearly," my grandmother says, as she closes her eyes. I wait, but nothing happens, she doesn't move, or even breathe. I know that she is dead, but I didn't, couldn't, seem to let go of her hand.
When my parents finally find me, they hug me and tell me everything would get better, and I believed them.
Boy, was I stupid…
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Yay! I finished it! Now here comes the tough part, I have another chapter that is optional. It's the chapter of Amara's grandmother's funeral. Or I could just skip that, and go right to what happens after the funeral, and about her grandmother's will. So if anyone reads this before I finish writing the chapters for my other stories, I would really appreciate your opinion, thanks! Hope someone reviews!
Angel of the Fallen Stars