Angels Falling Down: Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Fallon

         When I got up this morning, or any time in my life for that matter, if someone had told me that arguably the most gorgeous guy in the world would fall out of a tree and land in my lap while I was eating my lunch, I would have immediately had them institutionalized. But it happened.

          At first I was eating what the kitchen staff claimed was a chicken sandwich and enjoying the scenery. In the next second, I heard a snap, looked up, and caught sight of him.

          “Shit!”

          He crashed onto me. I could still feel through both our clothes that he was made of  pure muscle, sinew, and bone, but that did not, by any means make him a lightweight.

          “Ooof!” I grunted, which, as Mary says, is very unladylike by the way.

          “Sorry,” He mumbled, keeping his head down and face cast in shadow by his messy midnight locks.

          I waited a second, but he didn’t move.

          “Um, could you get off me, please,” I asked, I was starting to loose feeling in my legs.

          His head snapped up and he met my eyes. I gasped. They were the stormiest silver and I had only seen one pair like it before. It’s him.

           A devilish grin lit up his face and he raised an eyebrow, “Like what you see,” he teased.

          And me, like an idiot, sat there gaping like a fish. It can’t be him, that was seven years ago. He would have to be at least in his late twenties by now. But he doesn’t look a day past eighteen. It’s not possible.

          He reached up and gently shut my mouth and proceeded to pluck a stray orange leaf from my hair. He examined it for a moment then cast it away to drift in the light autumn breeze. He stood with the grace of a jungle cat, beautiful and dangerous, and stretched his hand down to grab mine. He pulled me up with ease, like I weighed nothing, and a warm tingle flowed through my hand at his touch.

          I finally regained the ability to speak, “What? How? Who are you,” I sputtered.

          He smirked once more, shook his head, and replied with a simple, “Not yet.”

          Aggravated and confused, I started to ask just what he meant by that when the bell to signal that I had one minute to get to class rang and silenced my questions.

          He pointed to the doors, “Hurry up, you don’t want to mar up that perfect attendance record of yours, Fall,” He advised, and disappeared into the woods. Leaving me with more questions than answers.

          I was still standing there, staring blankly at the foliage, when the final bell rang.

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Angels Falling Down: Chapter Three

 Chapter Three

Ryker

        

God, had she grown up over the past seven years. She’d gotten taller of course, time does that, her raven hair had grown longer, it was all the way to the bottom of her back now, her frame had filled out as well, and left no doubt in anyone’s mind that she was a young woman.

Her eyes were still the same bright, vibrant violet orbs that they had been the day I’d plucked her out of that blood spattered bedroom. She was walking outside the way she always did during lunch, distancing herself from everyone, the fall wind picked up a bit, scattered the leaves and tousled her hair gently across her face. Annoyed, she pawed it back and settled herself at the base of her favorite tree- the tree I was currently perched in.

I knew I shouldn’t have been watching her now, I wasn’t supposed to have helped her all those years ago, I wasn’t supposed to pick her up and leave her in the grass outside, and I wasn’t supposed to let her see me. But I did, and I should’ve drawn the line there. After I left I should have went away forever and never come back, never seen her again. But I did. I’d come back every year since, but I’ve never let her see me. At least I’d kept one of my rules.

I watched as she pulled today’s book from her bag and opened it as she picked at her lunch. She put up a good front, she had almost everyone fooled, she looked like nothing bothers her, nothing ever got under her skin, and that she didn’t care what anyone thought about her. But not me, no I knew her to well, even if she didn’t know me. I knew I nearly killed her inside knowing that she watched her parents die and she couldn’t do anything to stop it and I knew it hurt her to see her old friends everyday and not be able to run up and tell them the truth.

Every time I saw her, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if I would just walk up and introduce myself, become the friend that she so desperately needed, and gave her a hug- something that she hasn’t had in a really long time. I let myself think about it for a while and then stop myself, it can’t happen. Not only is it against the rules, but what would I say? “Hey Fall, I’m the guy that carried you outside the night your parents were murdered and just left you in the grass and have been secretly watching you off and on ever since. By the way, my name’s Ryker,” Yeah, that will go over real big.

I quietly let out an aggravated sigh and shifted my weight trying to get myself into a more tolerable position- damn, trees are uncomfortable! During my careless movements, a branch snapped halfway under my weight with a loud crack. She glanced up and caught sight of me.

Damn it!

          My sharp intake of breath was just too much for the limb to bear and it snapped the rest of the way through.

          “Shit!” I yelped as I plummeted to the ground.

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Angels Falling Down: Chapter Two

Chapter Two
Fallon

       

After the sun began to rise, I put my book into my knapsack along with the notes for my chemistry exam and the essay for history, and started to get ready for school. I dressed in black jeans slung low on my hips, a tight fit black t-shirt, a slim-fit hoodie, and black and blue Nikes, stopping only to run a quick brush through my long hair, apply a bit of mascara, and put some black eye-liner around my eyes. Once I was done, I took minute to examine myself in the mirror before I slung my knapsack over my shoulder and walked to the kitchen.

Many people think I’m Goth because of the way I dress, which is understandable considering how much black I wear, but I’m not, I’m one of those few people who refuse to be stereotyped. I guess the main reason that I wear so much black is because I’ve yet to completely get over my parent’s murders, and the way they came about. They’ve yet to catch the killer, and after what happened that night, what I remember of it that its,  it’s hard for me to believe they ever will.

Without giving Mary or Ben so much as a passing glance, I grabbed an apple from the fruit bowel on the counter and began my three mile hike to school.

        The thing about going to school in Bellum, Colorado is that it’s a rule that any kids above grade five, who live less than three miles from school, have to walk. I’m a fast walker, but it still takes me around half an hour to get there.

I walked through the doors of Bellum High, home of the Avenging Angels, with my head held high, and ignored the sympathetic looks that people always threw my way. As always not one of my friends waited for me by my locker-they world have to exist first. Not that I wouldn’t mind one of course. I used to have friends, just like I used to have parents, but when my mom and dad died, I guess my friends just didn’t know what to do or say around me anymore. On the other hand, I didn’t really make it easy for them- I couldn’t really tell them the truth about what had happened, and, unlike the police, they saw right through my lie, so they thought I didn’t trust them.

I sighed, opened my locker, and tossed my bag in.  I grabbed the materials for my morning classes- Lit., Calc, and Choir- and hurried to homeroom with Mr. McKee.

Mr. McKee, well, he’s not exactly what you’d call a role model, and by that I mean that the last time there was a school wide drug search, McKee was MIA by the time the dogs made it through the door, and was spotted on some back road in his van.

“Welcome to the fun zone Falon,” Mr. McKee greeted from his perch on top of his desk.

        “Morning, Mr. McKee,” I replied.

McKee ran his hand through his dark curly locks, and laughed like I’d just told the funniest joke making his blue eyes, as diailated as they were, sparkle, “Fall, when are you going to start calling me Mark like everyone else?”

“It’s only two weeks into the school year sir,” I answered.

“Still.”

I felt my lips twitch, “When you show up to work sober,” I paused and sniffed- yup, definitely more than a little booze.

He attempted to look surprised as well as offended- and failed miserably at both, “I am sober!”

At that, a quiet girl named Hannah looked up at him from her book and rolled her eyes, “Please, Mark, drop the act. We all know you’re higher than a kite.”

Mr. McKee tried again and his words slurred slightly, “Well I’m not drunk,”

He hopped off his desk and attempted walking around to prove his point and was surprised to find himself stumbling and having to grab onto his desk for support.

We all just raised an eyebrow and Mark muttered something under his breath about ‘annoying smartass kids’ as the bell rang.

The first part of the day passed slowly and when the bell rang to end choir I was the first one to burst out of the room. After grabbing my lunch I bolted to the doors and escaped to the outside.

       

 

Angels Falling Down: Chapter One

Chapter One
Fallon

I’m back in my bedroom, in my old house. Once again  I’m 10 years old. I pull the covers up over my head as I hear the creak of the floor boards. Someone creeps up the stairs and pauses for a second at the top, as if they were considering something. Eventually I hear him turn right and slink pass my door into my parent’s room.

       

      Gathering my courage, I slither out from under the covers, tip-toe it down the hall and crouch near the door; I can see everything but I’m helpless to stop any of it. And so I sit there and watch as the shadowy figure pulls a huge knife out from the sheath on his belt, and I keep watching as he slits my parent’s throats one by one.

       

         Only after the deed is done do I let out a small cry, whipping my parent’s murder around, and focusing all of his attention on me. Slowly, the killer advances on me, taking his time; we both know I’m not going anywhere, that I’ve got nowhere to run, and we both know I’m next. He’s only three feet away and I begin to shake, I try to scream but my voice has gone mute.

       

        Suddenly, the killer is knocked to the ground by what I could only be described as a shadow, and, in the same instant, I’m swept up in the strong arms of my rescuer. With my body still trembling, I lift my head to meet the most beautiful stormy grey eyes I have ever seen. Shocked, the only words I can offer to the boy who saved my life is a whispered thanks before my world fades to black.

       

         I bolt upright in my bed gasping for air, and sink back against the headboard as the nightmare fades. Only I know it isn’t just a nightmare; seven years ago that nightmare was my reality, and now it is a memory that has haunted my dreams ever since.

       

        “Falon! You screamed; it was another nightmare wasn’t it? You know someday you’re going to have to get over it, I mean, come on, your seventeen for Pete’s sake,” Mary said unsympathetically as she barged into my room.

       

         Mary and Ben Fellson are my foster parents; they took me in after my parents died when I was 10. Mary is actually quite pretty with her blonde hair and blue eyes, but I’m sure that almost everyone can tell that she doesn’t like me that much. Ben, who is still quite handsome for a man in his mid thirties, has blonde hair, hazel eyes, and he seems to be kind to everyone except me. I’m sure that they’re both counting down the days until I turn eighteen and am out of their hair of good, and to tell you the truth, I am too.

       

        “I’m fine Mary,” I said dryly, “And as soon as graduation rolls around me and my nightmare will be long gone,”

       

        She nodded, as if it seemed great to her and exited my room.

       

        I flopped back against my pillows and blew out a puff of air. After I had blacked out seven years ago, I had woken up in a hospital surrounded by police officers all of which wanted to know what happened to my parents. What could I say? That I saw a shadowy figure had slit my parents throats and, just when he was about to kill me as well, a boy, who I have almost no memory of what so ever, knocked him down with a shadow, and carried me outside? I don’t think so. That would have bought me a one way ticket to the nearest crazy house. So, I lied. I told the police that I hadn’t seen a thing, that when I woke up I walked into my parents room where I found them dead, and then I when I went outside to get help, I passed out. They bought it, but, unfortunately, there wasn’t a lie I could tell to get me out of having to live with the Fellsons.

       

         Reaching over to my bedside table, I grabbed a new book I had been reading, crossed the floor, and curled up on the window seat. I knew I wasn’t going to get anymore sleep tonight.