“Bullshit! Unless you can turn back time and give me the whole first half of this year back, there’s absolutely nothing you can do to make it up to me! Nothing!”
“Okay, so, nobody can manipulate time like that, but?—”
“Then do me a favor and piss off! I amthis closeto punching you in your pretty little face if I have to look at you for one more moment. And here in the real world, angel boy, that’ll get me locked up!”
“…You think I’m pretty?”
I barely refrain from letting out a wordless scream with all the fury in my lungs. As much as I want to, that may actually send the security guards running.
Instead, I pinch the bridge of my nose, willing myself to calm down. “I’m going to get my car, drive home, and go to sleep. Since, apparently, I actually cannow! And if you don’t let me pass youright the fuck now,I swear to God, I’ll never do whatever it is you want from me. I will literally let the whole world end just to spite you.”
Finally, he allows me to storm past him—but not without a frown and a very patronizing, “Drive safe, Dawn.”
I flip him off over my shoulder. “Maybe if my guardian angel were any less of a piece of shit, I wouldn’t have to worry about it!”
Surprisingly, he leaves me alone, and I get to drive home in a blurry, barely functioning, semi-peaceful daze.
4
KAE
Istare at my watch in disbelief.
For the first time in months, by some miracle, I slept through a full night. Not once did I wake up from nightmares. Only pure, beautiful, magnificent silence. I’m almost crying in joy—until I remember what I experienced before I went home.
“Fuck.” I crash my face back into my pillow.
I want to believe it wasn’t real, but my raging denial clashes with the vivid images still fresh in my mind. A golden man with a smile like pearls and diamonds, sunlight born in his eyes, the most glorious wings with their little flutter-flutter…
I don’t think I can keep this to myself. I need to tell someone. Anyone. Even if they think I’ve lost it, because maybe I have. Maybe I’ll go to a Catholic confessional booth and see how the old priest reacts to my story.
Hey, Father. What’s up? Um, I know I didn’t believe in God before—still kinda can’t get down with the whole concept yet—but apparently, angels are real. How do I know? Well, one cornered me last night in my work’s dingy parking garage and admitted to torturing me with nightmares all year. Also, your prophesied “end of days” are finally here, and they want me to open the gates to a secret monster hiding place so they can… fight the devil or whatever. TBD.
Actually, I should take that speech to my psychologist instead. Maybe he could decide what to do about me, if I’ve had a complete mental break or not.
I reach towards my side table for my phone, not thinking much of it, and my fingertips brush something feathersoft. I whip my head around to look at it, andoh God, it’s really fucking there.
With how fast I let go of the feather and jump out of bed, it might aswell have been a snake that bit me. In the process, my feet get caught in the comforter, and I slip down to the floor with a futile, embarrassing attempt to catch myself.
“Honey?” My dad yells from downstairs. “You okay?”
“Yeah, all good!” I call back, positioning my feet to sit on the floor properly. After a few breaths to collect myself, I stand up, rubbing my temples. My stomach growls viciously, reminding me how long it’s been without food.
I take the stairs down with boundless energy, rounding the corner to the kitchen. My dad is sitting at the table, looking at me rather than his regular post-work TV binging.
“Look who’s finally up,” he says, one of his eyebrows raised. “I didn’t hear you come in last night.”
“I worked a double, so you were probably asleep when I got home. And, uh, I just slept for fourteen hours straight.”
Both of his eyebrows shoot up to his forehead. “Really? Did you take something for it, or?”
“No, I didn’t, actually.” I pull the feather out from behind my back and place it on the table. “Hey, what do you think about this?”
“Wow. That’s very pretty, honey. Where’d you get that?”
So he can see it, too.
“A… friend.” I turn around, hiding my growing panic inside the pantry.
