Dark Angel

Ch. 3

I woke up, and I was standing on the bridge. I gasp and get off of it as fast as I could.

"Trisha!" screamed Ailean, running toward me. "What do you think you're doing?!"

"Getting off the bridge, you dumbass!" I wave a fist at her.

"When did you get that tattoo?" she tilted her head to the right,

I looked at my arm and saw vines around my wrist and down my arm covering my scars.

"Just now," I replied, putting my arm behind my back.

"And what were you going to do just now?" Ailean asked with a skeptical look in her eyes.

"I'm doing nothing. Just looking out into the river really. Let's go back to bed," I replied.

"Mhm. Okay, let's go."

Ailean is 18 years old, but she's a sophomore because she was in a coma for two years. I'm 16 years old.

The oncoming morning dragged by slowly as I lay on my bed, long hair sprawled around me. "Wait, long hair? I guess another part of the curse." I look at my new hair and find it a midnight black. "Beautiful," I whisper.

The light peaked through the curtains and displayed Shayla who is 15 years old. She has light blonde hair, that's cut boyishly and Aileans hair is light brown and medium length.

I decided to get up and take a shower.

As I looked in the mirror, displaying my pasty, pale white skin. I stare into my new deep blue eyes. I turn and I see black wings tattooed on my back and a tramp stamp in the shape of a black back.

I sighed and turned on "Good Girls Bad Guys" by Falling in Reverse ©, my favourite song, and step into the shower.

I look at my arms, to look at my old scars, and I didn't see them there. "OMG, is there anything left of my old life on me?"

"Are you almost done, Trish?" asks Shayla, getting impatient.

"Yeah!" I yelled, pulling up my pants, zipping and buttoning them. I open the door and see Shayla staring at me.

"Who are you?" she asked in disbelief.

"Trisha, of course," I replied. "Oh, now I understand. It is me, Shay."

"Okay, you changed a kit overnight. See you at breakie." She sauntered past me and looked at me again before closing the door.

"Oh. My. God. What the hell did you do?" asked my bastard father.

"I changed," I replied "He is so annoying," I thought,.

"Why though? You were so beautiful before." He caressed my face.

Ew.

"Stop it. I know what you're doing. Don't start." I shove his hand away from my face.

"What am I doing?! I'm complimenting you!" he yells grabbing my arm.

"Let go of me!"

I rip my arm out of his grasp, and ran out of the house grabbing my bag on the way out.

I feel my phone buzz in my pants pocket, signaling I got a text.

"Gurl. There's this new chick and eyever1 is tlking about her," the text read from my friend, Sherry.

"Really? That's awesome!" I reply.

A few minutes later I got another text saying, "She's right in front of me! I'm by the cafe."

I look up and see Sherry standing there staring in my direction. I look around and see no one new. "I don't see any1 new."

"She has black hair and blue eyes! "texts Sherry.

"Dude, that's me."

"Are you shitting me?!"

I walk up to her and say, "No, I'm not."

"OMG! You're so pretty! I can't believe it's you, Trish!" Sherry yells.

"OMG shut up girl!" I shush her.

"I'm serious!" She whispers looking really excited. "I have the prettiest friend in school!"

"Really, awe, thanks Sherry!" I hug her tight.

"You are so welcome girl! Let's go to homeroom. Okay?"

"Okay!"

I sat there doodling in Geometry bored out of my mind. I don't even know what's going on anymore. I hate proofs. They make everything so difficult.

Nobody understands me. Only my mom did. I miss her so much. "I wish she was still alive," I whisper to myself.

"Trisha, do you have the answer to number forty-five?" asked my young, blonde hair teacher Mrs. Valon.

"No, I don't," I reply looking down at my paper.

"Then stop doodling and start paying attention. You need to pass this next test we are having."

"Sorry." I hang my head in shame. "What a bitch," I think to myself.

After geometry I had History class with Sherry. We have loads of fun in that class. The teacher is so nice too. It's kind of unbelievable sometimes.

I pass a note to Sherry which says, "Hey, how r u?"

She passes the note back saying, "Good. WBU (What about You)?"

"Eh, I'm Okay. You know? I had a rough night," I reply to her question.

"What happened?"

"I tried again. I got a second chance though."

"What?! You actually died?!"

"Yeah, but this little boy told me that I could have a second chance, and I took it."

"Wow, that's amazing! I can't believe that actually happened! You're a lucky mofo," she whispered this time to me.

"I know right?" I whispered back to her.

"Ladies, you wanna share what you're saying to the class?" asked Ms. Jane.

"Well, Trish just said "I know right?" And before that I said "Wow, that's amazing!" That's pretty much all we said," replied Sherry to the teacher.

"Oh, Ok. Thank you for being honest with me. I appreciate it. Ten points to Slytherin."

"Woho," cried a bunch of Slytherins.

I high-five my friends, Melvin, hand. He's a foreign exchange student from Egypt with tan skin, and sandy blonde hair. He's a strange fellow who likes giving hugs.

Another thing about this awesome class is that the teacher is a huge Harry Potter fan, and we were "sorted" into houses by using our laptops, going onto the fan-page, and taking a quiz.

"I'm so happy I have this class," I think to myself. I sigh. "My back itches," I declare to myself.

Sherry heard me and replied, "Then scratch it, stupid." She ends, laughing.

"I am! Ms. Jane, may I use go to the restroom?"

"Sure thing, go on ahead," she replied.

"Thanks!"

When I get to the restroom wings burst out of my back. Black wings to top it off.

"Wow! They're beautiful," I whisper, touching the feathers.

A man appeared before me through a dark purple cloud.

"Hello, Trisha. My name is Nathaniel. I am here to guide you on your first mission."

"Mission? I didn't know we had to do missions!"

"They're quick and easy, you'll be able to get the hang of them fast," he replied to me.

"Okay, how do I do them?" I ask cautiously.

Nathaniel opens the windows that are behind me and jumps on the window sill. "Just follow me. Okay?" He puts out his hand for me to grasp.

"OkAAYYYY!" I yell as he takes off taking me with him.

"See here. This old man is dying from Pancreatic Cancer. It's our job to take the "bad" people to the depths of Hell unfortunately," Nathaniel tells me solemnly.

"Oh. My. God. Are you serious?" I cringe out, my eyes watering.

"I'm serious. Well, let's get this over with."

"I-I-I don't know about this."

"You have to or you die, again," he says with an evil look in his eyes.

"… Okay," I whisper out. I walk up to the man and get down to his eye level. "Excuse me, sir? It's your time to go."

"What? Who are you to say when it's my time to go on not?" replied the man with a stern look.

"Um, we are supposed to tell you when it's your time to go. We're the Angels of Darkness. Also known as the Grim Reaper, and the Angels of Death," replies Nathaniel in a snotty tone.

"What? No, it's not my time! I swear!" The man screams at us.

"Take an arm," Nathaniel ordered.

I grabbed one of the man's arms and we lifted the man's spirit out of his body. The man's body went limp and the man screamed.

"This is an outrage! I can't believe this! I'm not that old!"

"You were dying anyway. Come on Mr. Swanson."

"No! No! Put me down!" screamed Mr. Swanson struggling.

I spot a fiery pit in front of us. "Is that where we drop off Mr. Swanson?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

"Yes it is. One, two, three, drop!"

We dropped Mr. Swanson into the pit of fire. I gaze into it and then fly away with Nathaniel.