Creative Writing My Angel Angie: A Red Painted Day

Well I finally decided to write, I've done scripts from my comics, but nothing as natural as this. I hope it's not too technically flawed. I know it's kinda long...sorry. If any of you do take the time to read it, please comment on the story and such, thanks a qabillion!

-------------------------

-Chapter One: A Red Painted Day-

-opening scene-

Rays of light break through fully lit, fluffy clouds making their way down toward young laughter. The streams of light pour down onto a playground full of pleasant children, soaking in the light. In the distance a little chipped house sits alone, blurred into clouded darkness. Its door drifts freely; creaking back and forth, interrupted only by the violent thrusts of inconsistent breeze, calling for attention by loud cracks of sound when hitting the door’s useless frame. Peering inside the unsettled house more volumes of darkness rise, retreating from the artificially light, illuminating the small, hopeful room in the hampered hallway. The light attracts any lack of attention, pleading for someone to open its door, to swing into a suicidal scene of disaster. A girl’s limp body hangs over the side of an oddly designed bathtub, her head consumed by polluted liquid. Attractive splashes of red paint blanket the walls, seeming to cry at the illogical scene. But the flickering light continues to signal in vain, as the darkness consistently underlines the scene, pulling the pathetic, little house out of the perfect set of laughter outside. Her eyes stay open, the blank stare seems to have planned a guest, but none attend, her mouth bubbles in silent intervals, but no one hears. For the girl, for this house it is June 3rd, another dark day, for the world it is sunny, it is June 8th, and no one seems to care. The light burns in frustration, pouring unregulated amounts of power into its capsule, making up for the rooms lack of life. “HELP!” It seems to cry, HELP, HELP, HELP…the light overtakes the room in a brilliant white light.

-My Angel Angie-

-scene 1-

The intense light begins to die down, revealing a new scene full of significant variation of the horror first witnessed. Eyes now closed, the girl’s body rests on cold marble that mimics her fallen state. Her body is now completely dry, exposing a laps of time, the reflection in the stony surface remains slightly muddy, in what seems to be an effort to erase her physical presence. Staring even more intently into her reflection one may forget her state, and fall into her dreamy complexion. How could such a pretty creature kill itself, how could such appearances be unable to sway attention in its glorious direction? As if this body could sense such attention its eyes quickly jerked open in surprise.
She was alive? Such was perhaps shared in her own shock. She quickly got onto her knees, hands pushing away from the cold surface, but wanting to peer into the reflection it portrayed. She stared blankly at herself, as if she could only concentrate on the doubt of life, never realizing the warmth, the pleasant rose-colored quality of her maturing face. She was certainly young, but well over the age of tolerable ignorance. Why did she commit this act, had she still continued to fight the teenage years that plagued her life? How could someone so perfect be so mangled and confused? Such questions perhaps filled the minds of the individuals gathered behind her. She had noticed them too, and had quickly flipped herself around, leaning slightly backwards in a defenseless position. A point of concern and fear filled her eyes; competing quite well with the dead stare we had first met her with. The figures didn’t seem to dismiss the look, but rather feed upon it by silently waiting for her next, perhaps more desperate move.
These towering individuals seemed to hold some sort of power by their fully plotted presence. Slightly raised above her on the outer edges of a circular room, they rested comfortably in exotic stone chairs. Somehow the appearance seemed to mock her, begging her to start what would be a very uncomfortable discussion…but she remained silent in fear. One of the figures finally made a gesture, which seemed to summon a large book, draped in a lush velvet palate. All of the individuals in the room stood still, keeping their lifeless structure secure, staring at the helpless girl whose eyes followed the drifting book’s path. Finally the book stopped, levitating over the being that had signaled for it. Slowly the figure reached up to grab the decaying literature, making sure not to break the perfect set of shadows that enclosed and withheld the figures gender. Who were these things?
The book opened to what seemed an exact page, right before touching the lap of the mysterious being, the girl could now at least tell that this…thing was the self-proposed leader of the mysterious group. She could see no lips move, but the call was distinct.

“Angie” the figure with the book read off.

It was obvious this was her name by the increased sense of fear on the girl’s face.

 

“A girl sent out for personal defining on the date of June 2nd, 1980.” Continued the figure in an informative manner. “Returning prematurely on the date of June 12th, 2003.”

Angie stayed in her position taking in the answers, yet rejecting the entire scene for being anything but possible.

“Her manner of life was simple, true and neither right or wrong. However the unsettling events that have brought her here cause this panel to decide the outcome of Angie.” With that concluding statement the figure closed the book, and it quickly materialized.

“Angie, by those forces which have blinded us, we must choose your residence by your own actions.” consulted the voice in a bored manner.

“…which thus form our voice.” Another voiced snapped.

-sigh- “Yes, yes. This is the only, and final hearing, do you understand Angie?” the irritated figure muttered in compliance.

Angie’s mouth opened in a very limited fashion, one that couldn’t construct any audible reply. Her mind rather raced, trying to piece the confusing scene together. Why was this voice fighting what seemed to be itself, who was really talking? Was it the casting shadows that hid the truth she needed, was this truly a panel, or but one…thing?
The voice kept attacking her from different points, but she didn’t bother even taking them in, she wanted to know what she should do. Would they kill her? Should she wait for the end, had her end not already come? A sudden thought recollecting what had first been said by the voice registered with use in her mind. They are blind!? Did this have some other meaning of justice, or could she quietly escape undetected?
She began to silently drag herself across the slick floor, trying to find her own distinct answer before actually reaching the outer rim of the enormous room. One of the seven carvings that caked the outer walls like priceless frosting had to be an exit of some kind. The figures kept talking, never once did they become more distant, were they trying to find her mind’s own door? Angie looked back at the figures, still paused in their effort to become purely petrified. Did they continue to merely mock her, or could she escape? But escape to what? Death? Was this not death?
Her movements began to drag as her mind melted in all of the surrounding nonsense, the truth of the hurtful words driving at her in constant intervals made her want to fall again. Was this the bottom? Her entire body again embraced the cold marble, unable to move, unable to cry. The voices had stopped. It was then that she began to rather question herself over the foreign surroundings.

“Why am I such a selfish girl?” Angie thought pathetically.

“They hated me!” Angie began to cry, knowing something would soon take her away.

“I had nothing to hate! I HATE MYSELF!”

Angie gritted her teeth, flipping around from side to side in a violent manner, wanting desperately to bit something. But the only thing there was her own self, the crowd of darkness silently volunteered to be her blinded audience. She stuffed her fist in her mouth and tried to rip at a impossible structure that rendered her jaw unmovable. She immediately came to a clam…fist clasped or rather stuck in her savage mouth. Oh how she wished it were her leg.

“Yes Angie, you can kill yourself, but you can’t stop. Nothing ever stops, one thing dies and another period lives, but the substance never ends.” The voice gently added.

Angie looked at the masked group behind her through the mirror-like marble. Whatever it said she knew was right. She closed her eyes, wishing everything to be empty, and yet in doing so the voice felt that more full.

“What do you want from me?” Angie finally murmured in defeat.

“We want nothing, yet everything passes through our doors.” The voice echoed back.

“But, where do I go? Please don’t send me back!” Angie said as she continued to raise her volume.

“Darkness?” The voice questioned. As if the word was self-explanatory.

“Please…anywhere but back there!” Angie pleaded, getting back up in a better effort in presenting herself. Obviously these figures must be in charge of her future.

“Angie, your weakness killed you, your weakness was to save you.” The voice soothed in a coated Enigma.

“…please…”Angie breathed, ready to collapse.

Like the overseeing book, the figures finally began to dissolve. As they disappeared she saw them slump in relief, as any form of godliness they may have carried vanished with their physical presence.
Before she could even question this radical final gesture, Angie’s side was filled with a intense feeling of wonderful heat, she turned to be confronted by a blinding light coming from a distinct point on the outer wall. She desperately squinted her eyes, both to save them and make out what could produce such energy. It was one of the seven decretive outer rims, asking her to go to its own welcoming interior. But looking even more intently she could begin to make out the flames, the endless chasm of heat. Her head grew heavy, what was it? Surely there is no Hell, surely everything was a sick game, everything she ever bore was a sick game!

Damn the system…why this…am I to be damned? With that her mind overheated through frustration, and another overbearing light took over the scene.

-scene 2-

Brilliant white light continued to persist, but through time it seemed to take form, creating a soft fog over the hindering sight. And then we say her, engulfed in the harmless mist. Angie’s eyes remained closed, only because she rather she didn’t ever open them again. The flames had been removed some time before regaining consciousness, but what awaited her? Why did it HAVE to go on like they had said? Someone must have crafted such a silly rule, and she wanted to make sure it broke with whoever designed it.
She knew very well that someone was waiting for the moment she would get up, but she refused to ever do so.

“I can’t get up.” Even so, she decided to open her eyes in the blanket of fog that muffled her face. Doing so caused her heart to leap, her body soon followed in a backwards motion, exposing herself to everything around her. “DAAAA!” Was the only thing that escaped her mouth.

“Isn’t it a pretty view.” A voice called out in a rhetorical question.

She looked up at the host of the voice, a vacant, helpless expression covering Angie’s face.

“He-he-he, you make funny faces!” Pointed the little figure.

Angie tried so very desperately to grab something, anything that would keep her from falling, but everything around her was intangible. The awkward feeling of falling to her own death consumed her body, frantically trying to stay in motion as if it would dispense any laws of gravity.

“Aw, don’t worry lady, you can’t fall.” The little figure said assuredly.

Angie tried to speak, but still didn’t know what to say.

“Doesn’t the world look pretty from way up here?” The voice smiled in a calm.

Angie again looked up at what looked like a little boy hovering slightly above her.

“He-he, all your faces are silly ones!” The little boy proclaimed in satisfaction.

“Where am I?” Angie finally gasped.

“Your’re home!” The little boy celebrated.

Angie looked out to the far reaches of the setting. She knew what the place was, Heaven, but it wasn’t a satisfying scene…it just didn’t make sense. As she continued to reject it, her body started to slowly descend further into the fluffy clouds.

“Hey!” Exclaimed the boy.

Diving down to quickly to grab her, Angie finally noticed his cute little wings. Angie hadn’t realized her subtle dissention until the boy had whisked her out of the hungry clouds bringing her high into the flimsy air. Finally she felt comfortable, but her mind still raced with questions that competed with the speeds the boy was using to get them to a place Angie continued to fear, and question. What was to come of her, she still did not have an answer, and she didn’t know if she wanted it.

“Who are you?” Angie inquired.

The boy smiled, and continued with the answer.

“I am Shya, Angel Coolness!”

“Angel Coolness?” Angie voiced in disturbed doubt.

The boy smiled in confirmation.

Angel Coolness, you got to be kidding me. Well…he was a pretty young looking kid. Hmmm, maybe there were lots of cool people that lived here. Were they all angels, well anyways, I’m sure it was all a mistake. Hopefully she could sneak by if there were any good-looking angel guys.

“Do you think I’m good looking?” Asked the boy.

“DAAAA!” Angie cried out…wanting to be dropped for effect.

She hadn’t realized she had been mumbling out loud. Uh! How idiotic of her, guys are stupid, all humans are stupid…but of course these were angels... No matter, all things must be horrible in one way or another.

Angie looked up again at the adorable little boy hovering directly above her, his focus directed on the view ahead, confirmed that she had at least not voiced the last few hateful thoughts aloud.

Well…maybe he had an older brother. Bla! Angie you ARE hopeless!

Her thoughts were put on hold when she noticed the decreased speed of her driver. Her blank gaze gained focus; looking upon the city they were quickly approaching. It was a city, or rather a palace shaped from the most reflective surfaces possible. The light colors made her honestly think of being in a nursery. As they got closer to there destination, her heart began to slowly throb in what she believed to be a backwards motion, agreeing with her mind that floating carelessly in the sky was a much better idea. But she very well knew she wouldn’t be able to sway the determination of the child she was currently dependent on.
While lost in her constant thought, the time came to break from the bubble and greet the surreal surroundings she must know engage in.

 

“Angie!” Cried a familiar voice.

Angie’s hairs prickled at the familiar sound, did she know someone here!? Quickly she looked down to find the little boy looking at her, still smiling.

“Angie, come on you have to sign in!” Shya repeated, knowing very well that Angie was lost in and out of herself.

She continued to look around in a daze, as if she had just been rudely awaken. Constantly jerking, and swaying as she tried to keep her hand attached to her leader, running in an excited manner. It reminded her of walking a dog…walking!? She hadn’t noticed they had been walking because of the constant rush of novel concepts. She instantly feel to the floor, and as she descended to its hard surface, it seemed to slowly resemble tinted glass, allowing her to see the world below, and yet it kept the fun swirls of beautiful marble visibly fashioned. She could recognize the cold feeling produced by the floor, and it was unusually welcoming for her. She had been walking…to where? It felt as if she hadn’t walked forever, and yet it was so natural she had overlooked such a subtle fact. She feared to get up, to be flicked into another natural reaction and then regret it. Yet the horrible view that lay before her was no better, that evil world that had killed her, certainly it had pushed her over the edge, and she didn’t want to hang on.

“Angie, it will be okay, come on, we must hurry!” Shya called out, obviously eager to get somewhere.
But Angie remained distant, tucked away in her mind. She didn’t want to be happy, she just wanted an ending, but they wouldn’t give it to her. It made her hate those shadowed figures, and she was already prepared to begin finding the faults in this heavenly abyss of nosebleed seats. Turning her face away from the world below she began to notice the blurred individuals around her, was her mind slowly fading away?

“Angie!” Shya shouted, staying as calm as possible for a child his age.

Angie looked up at his open hand, ready to claim her back, but she didn’t want to get up…she feared it.

“Wait! How do you know my name!?” Angie exclaimed, finally allowing her mind to find the illogic.

“Angie, we don’t have time, just follow me…please.” Shya persisted more reverently.

“I, I don’t want to get up.” Angie stated, her mouth beginning to twitch with the rest of her body.

Shya quickly swooped her up again, and climbed high into the air, she began to feel uncertain about her thoughts, could he read her mind? Back in the air, she once again felt as comfortable as she could allow herself to be in such a scenario. Angie clutched to him tighter then she had before, in a silent plead to save her, not from death, but everything she couldn’t understand.

“Everything will be okay Angie.” Shya seemed to repeat.

Like the never-ending plague of words that past her like vibes in the circular room of judgment, she felt a distinct similarity in the way Shya carried on. She hardly could listen, but she knew he was constantly trying to put her mind at ease. Her harsh grip on his elegant, white clothing loosened, fitting itself into a tight hug. She wished to be his child, and as foolish as the thought was she wouldn’t let it go. She silently thanked him; teardrops blotted his garments in soft splotches of blue. It was then that she could feel it begin to sprinkle from the clouds…below, in sudden confusion Angie looking up viewing the happy smile of Shya, but now being balanced by giant tears, produced by his big, bright eyes. Realizing only then, how long it had been, how long she had been this close to someone, so innocent. This wonderful stranger would surely be her friend, a thing she had not had in a very long time. She had forgotten the feeling; she held onto him for it, she now wished it could end here, to stay suspended forever with this feeling. She was able to glance down at his robes again, not sure if her mind was blurring, or if the flood of tears hindered her vision, however it was enough to see a good majority of his dress drenched in her own messy water. And it was then that she felt sorry for being such a clutter, for being a selfish stranger to this boy. She looked up at the boy of extraordinary strength, it was as if she was a feather, one that seemed to tickle his nose, he never asked her to stop, but his eyes did plead for mercy, he couldn’t bare her wonderful sorrow much longer.
Seeing then his youth in earnest thought, he certainly could be her son if her life had been so! Soon Angie began to wonder if this was the dependence parents’ felt, could she have been a parent? She had taken her life to quickly to find out for sure, and yet more tears come down her cheeks when she most certainly knew that answer was no. Sadly it took two to be a parent, she couldn’t simply wish it, and for that she hated men even more. She hated the human rules, and regulations. All she wanted was to be alone, with her child, cuddling together as they tried to hide from the world’s foolish games.

“Alright Angie, we’re about there.” Shya slightly shouted through the loud gusts of wind.

 

Angie knew he wanted her to put herself back together, but she knew she had lost her parts a long time ago. She looked at the bright, creative towers that rushed by, finally realizing the upward slant they were steadily carrying forward. At the end of the upward angle was the pinnacle of the entire palace; was she to meet her God? The thought left her in a stutter. She had for the longest time known she had no God, and that she had been merely thrown together on a constant assembly line. She felt it was easier to blame for her pathetic condition.

“Shya, don’t let this happen to me, please.” Angie yelped, feeling her situation was desperate.

“Don’t worry Angie, you’ll be alright.” Shya comforted. There speed now starting to again decline.

“Don’t leave me Shya!” Angie cried.

“Angie I’ll always be your friend…” Shya claimed in a final effort to calm her.

Angie wrapped around him tighter, tucking in her legs for a more exaggerated fetus position. She didn’t want him to go, but she couldn’t believe she was so see through, she just couldn’t throw words like friend in the air without careful thought, she wondered if he truly meant it.

“…but you’ll need to go on alone, for now.” He finished, worried of the reaction it would obtain.

But Angie just stayed curled up intently in his arms, savoring the moment they had just experienced. She focused her senses to her downward side, waiting for the terrible moment that his arms would relax, the subtle suggestion of the rides end…it came all to soon.

She turned her head to glimpse at the landing point that would take her from him. Vainly wondering how she could possibly avoid it. Before she knew it they were hovering directly above the target, the gigantic swirls in the pad’s design made her think of the tests she may have to pass once inside this stronghold.

Shya slowly descended, allowing Angie to safely fall from his arms, but she struggled to find the best way to land.

“Come on Angie, just land on your feet.” Shya softly urged.

“I can’t.” Angie said assuredly.

Not wanting to have to ride out a conversation that couldn’t be persuaded to change on either end, Shya dropped her at a reasonable height. Angie let out a quick pitch of surprise in a laughable scream of noise. She fell on her back like a cat built all wrong, and moaned at the tingling sensation of pain.

“I TOLD you to land on you feet!” Scolded Shya. This made Angie feel that much more like his little girl…and yet she didn’t want him to be a demanding parent.

“I can’t!” Angie screamed, trying to prove how serious she was through her tone.

“We don’t have time Angie, I need to sign you in down at the foyer.” Explained Shya. “You’ll need to make your way down from here.”

Sitting there on the floor Angie began to realize the conflict she had created, obviously she had made an ordinary process rather hard for the both of them. She wondered if she was more of a pain then anything, if she was just another of the many dropped into this place. However the beaming smile this boy waved around like a luminous talent waved away such doubts.
She tried her best to comply, not sure if she was under his naive charm among it all. She placed her arms against the stiff, stony ground, more ready to fall then to stand. Before continuing in her frightening battle against simple human function, she looked back to find Shya’s support, but couldn’t. She kept searching, even though she very well knew he had gone to do his part, but the fact couldn’t keep the lonely feelings from pouring back in. She turned her gaze to the pillars that surrounded her, the towering figures seemed to stare at her, something inanimate always seemed to fill the void when she was alone, but it never was comforting. She wanted to get away from them; she wanted to see dear little Shya again.
She wanted the heavy sense of fear to go away, and because of it, it pushed Angie onto her feet faster then anything else more reasonable could have done. She quickly stumbled to the outer rim of the circle as if her head was far too heavy for her slender body. Trying her best to make it look intentional, she decided to look over the edge to try and get a final glance at Shya. However the only thing over the edge was a view of many rises that tried to catch up with her height. His vacancy let her imagination fill in his distant movements, the thought of him moving like a corky little hummingbird made her lips curl into laughter.
The gentle breeze seemed to not approve of the light amounts of laugher, and suddenly picked up violently, trying to toss Angie over the edge. The thought of dying yet again, and this time without her approval was more then enough to scare her back into safety. She fell for a pillar in a few staggered steps, clinging to it before a near collapse. Looking up to her savior, she realized it was one of the witnesses who didn’t warn her of the winds hate. She curled around it, slowly shifting to the safest side, but its rough texture didn’t like the idea. She look to a six-foot gap on the left side of the landing’s designed circle, there stood the door she needed to embrace with a reasonable amount of exerted effort. She quickly made a dash, hoping the wind would not swoop down upon her like a wave, the pillars cried out with the breeze’s own vocals, trying to alert it of the fiend’s escape.
Angie burst through the doorway like a long awaited gasp of air. She flung her back across a wall, trying to find the steady beat her heart once followed. While waiting she consumed her time by looking down at her feet, obviously in disbelief, she had actually done it! As odd as it may have sound Angie could never remember walking like this, it felt odd, and yet it remained completely possible. Soon she began to wonder if she created illusions of her own, was this all real? Is it possible she just gasped for attention, but was always suffocated…until now? She again began to think of dear little Shya. It put herself back into a calm, and her heart soon understood it, as impossible as it was she knew it was love. She continued down the corridor for him, but how did she love him? All she knew was that the little boy had given her such mindless things, no one else had ever minded giving her.
She tore herself from such thoughts for the surroundings she had to focus on, as well as the impossible emotions she wanted to know more about, and if they could ever fail her. Wonderful little vases, and other random decorations scattered the hallways she walked, the things they knew made her want to so desperately break them. To silence the knowledge they had nipped from her mind, they remained silent because they knew the answers, she knew better then to take them for innocent junk to satisfy illogical needs. Oh brother Angie, you yourself are just a bundle of illogical, these shapes, and colors are mere objects that want to be alone. Is Angie one that is broken, who wants her on the other end of this wild maze?
Angie started looking for odd holes, and whispers that could possibly be concealing traps that would love to puncture her skin. Would such a place have such things? What was this place beyond its heavenly nonsense? While continuing her pace, Angie began to instead look for paintings that may tell tales she needed to know. But all the frames were empty. The continuing onslaught of questions with absolutely no answers began to frustrate her, and she increased her pace hoping to soon reach some sort of explanation. The swift pace soon grew into an all out dash, as fear was allowed to assemble more and more.
FINALLY, a door, a complex door that must have taken ones life to complete decked the corridors end, and perhaps the beginning of the answers she so desperately wanted. With her goal in view she picked up her pace to leaps, causing the checkered white and blue tiles beneath her to take on new, blurred patterns created from her velocity. At such speeds she could burst through before it could demand a password, another horrendous obstacle, but before she would rupture the perpetrators, she came to a sudden and complete stop several feet before the entry, sliding elegantly across the slippery floor, her feet’s angle continued on their own wistful stroke that kissed the light under the door. Angie looked down at the golden doorknob that rested a few feet below her; she wanted to expect the worse. She didn’t want to shock those who would certainly end up surprising her; rather she wanted to sneak in unnoticed. The knob slowly turned by the applied pressure of Angie’s hand, she tightened the look upon her face, as if it would absorb any unwanted sounds the door may shriek. As the door opened at a rate that would hopefully go undetected, Angie poked through, her eyes searching for what evil was resting inside.

 

What she found was a large council of blurred figures listening to a much too familiar voice. Glancing up at the small blurs in the large structures she could see serious faces, that didn’t suit such things that were uncouthly adorable. Continuing forward, Angie tried to place the voice, but the increased humming produced by the mingling above her made it gradually more difficult. The structures that held all these people seemed to become more and more loose as more and more discussion from the crowd polluted the air. Angie very well knew progressing forward would more then likely make her known to them, but she had to see what the commotion was, and where the voice came from. Through some of the metallic bars and tape, she could see a center circle flooded with light that demanded everyone’s attention as it housed the star of the show.
IT WAS THAT BLASTED BOOK! It had taken up that persistent voice she had heard from that council, here it seemed to be revealing its private findings on Angie. Angie was so glad she was placed back here in the dark, away from the direct circle of attention she was probably supposed to be in. She could tell she was late because the book had only gotten through half of her life, there she was in the book, a little 13 year old freak, Angie turned her head away, not wanting to remember. It was if those things so obvious to the figures in the dark, had to be slowly detailed, line-by-line to the creatures in this light. It reminded her of June 3rd, about that laughter, those children that had been laughing at her, when she had killed herself in their place. She stopped at that point, pulling herself into a little ball, and trying desperately to rock herself to sleep, to go away. Where had Shya gone?
Living life in seclusion, then having it revealed was far too close to Angie’s limits. It went against the principles she had founded herself on, perhaps it was the last thing to kill. Through the changing intervals of sound produced by the crowd Angie very well knew what page the book was on. Knowing it was reaching the end; she opened her eyes, and cautiously waited what would happen next in the circle. She saw the book close, and as the pages flipped from one cover to the other as it was sandwiched together Angie saw all the blank pages…the book was filled with near nothing, with perhaps maybe ¼ of its pages ever reaching a crinkled point of worn yellow. It stung, without words it told her, it ripped at her, she had stolen away all her answers, having not lived them out. Had she cheated to no avail?

“There you are Angie!” Echoed another familiar voice.

Angie turned her head slight to see Shya next to a guard in the center circle, which froze her in shock. Oh no, now she’s dead. Her mind ran with several choices all at once, which kept her glued in her position, utterly confused. Those in the stands started to notice someone familiar was hiding under them; quickly all their focus began to grow on her.

“Curse you Shya!” Angie shouted back in frustration.

The crowd gasped in shock at such words, and Angie could see the guard near Shya grow tense.“JUST KIDDING!” Angie quickly spurted into the air of her other echoing words, hoping they would mix together.

“Don’t act silly right now Ange-ge!” Warned Shya, who then looked over to the crowd to make sure they were settling down.

“ANGE-GE!?” Angie called back in frustration.

“That is your silly name!” Shya replied calmly, letting the auditorium project his voice.

Obviously he wasn’t too concerned about the whole thing, which left Angie even more stuck between feelings and choices. She finally just decided to become a statue, not wanting to run nor surrender, nor shake sense into Shya, or hug him. If only if he would fly away with her again…

Shya ran over to her, and peered under the first few rows that produced most of the light Angie was feeding off.

“Come on out of there Angie, you know this doesn’t make you look so good.” Shya whispered.

Angie couldn’t help but feel like a little child; being in the position she was in.

“I just wanted to watch from here.” Angie snapped.

“I know, but everyone wants to meet you.” Shya smiled.

“Who?” Questioned Angie.

“Oh come on and get this silly stuff over with Angie!” Begged Shya. “I’ll even introduce you to my older brother, okay?”

With that Angie wanted to tackle the little monster. He HAD been listening to her before!

Angie’s piercing look was enough dialog for Shya to answer the question she hadn’t asked.

“Angie, everyone knows that…you said it yourself in your book.” Explained Shya.

Suddenly Angie felt she had been stripped naked. Little giggles persisted from the tiny figures in the seats above her hiding place. Embracement replaced any drips of fear she had, especially when thinking of all the other thoughts she had tossed around her entire life. Her entire life was fueled by thoughts, now exposed she felt caught in a pair of headlights.

“Come on Angie.” Coaxed Shya.

Feeling she had no other choose Angie took his hand, but out in the open her red cheeks seemed to balloon even further. Quickly she pulled up Shya into the air, forcing him to beat his precious little wings.

“What’s wrong Angie?” Shya said in surprise.

“Nothing!” Angie stammered. But she continued to smother her blushing face in his draping, white robe. Substituting it for the tall, handsome man that should be present on her side.

Slowly, and shyly Angie revealed her eyes to look for a far superior hiding place, she couldn’t bare this humiliation. But after glancing at the giggling figures she noticed they were no longer blurred…it was if she now had gained full vision in the dreamy place, and what she saw replaced her embarrassment with shock. Hundreds, if not thousands of little children covered the entire room.

Finally they hushed themselves, Angie allowed Shya to lower himself, now entranced by the bundle of cute little faces. When giggling was replaced with a swarm of smiles, a very young little girl spoke.

“Well Angie, I guess you’re silly enough to stay.”

All the children rushed her with the rolling sound of laughter. Angie didn’t stay confused long as she realized the little devils were going to eat her. Quickly she plucked Shya up again, and used him as her human shield.

“Oh silly Ange-ge!” Laughed Shya. “They won’t hurt you.”

But she severally doubted such notions as they began to climb her legs and pull her silky hair.

“OW!” Screamed Angie.

But they didn’t stop; several of them flung themselves onto her back and tried to pull her down. Suddenly Angie was glad she never had become a mother. This however did not stop the attack, and soon the evil group had pinned her down. Soon after sharp pains began forming on the arch of her back. She could feel the red paint again being exposed from inside her…or at least she always had excused it as red paint in the past. She was straddled, grabbed, pulled, and now stabbed, Angie desperately clamped her eyes shut, holding onto her wondering mind. Nothing mattered now. And then it stopped…

“It’s okay now Angie, you can get up.” Shya said happily.

Slowly Angie got on her feet, surprised the children had detached themselves so quickly. She glared at them, stripping them of their ghostly smiles, knowing they could easily attack her again. The pain on her back still ached, and it soon grabbed her attention. Whatever it was still biting her was out of view, Angie suddenly wished she were part owl, but her neck continued to disagree. Craning her hands backwards to laughable positions Angie expected to find a sign that said “Attack Angie”. Rather she felt metallic like sprockets dipped in small amounts of fresh blood. But why?
Shya tapped her leg for attention, when he had gained it he pointed at the air directly behind her. She snapped backwards ready to take out the next flood of children but rather found them sitting there…smiling.

“No Angie, just turn your head!” Shya laughed.

Getting just a bit too annoyed, Angie did so, and what she saw made her cry.

She dropped to her knees, and clasped her hands on her face, trying to keep her frame together, but it trembled violently.

The children raided hear again with hugs and kisses with an uprising of newfound laughter, and praise.

Angie had gotten her own pair of cute, adorable, little wings.

-End of Chapter One-