Never break a promise to an angel

I slowly sank down on my knees and into a sitting position on the moist grass. In front of me was the looming presence of his granite headstone. It was still hard to believe. My shoulders began to shake and, exhaling slowly, I allowed the tears to run unbridled down my cheeks to drop, heavy with sorrow onto the flowers that adorned the grave.
         Taking a packet of cigarettes from my pocket, I lit one and admired the glimmering embers as they flickered uncertainly on the nights breeze, before blowing a thick stream of dancing smoke out to hang dusky and sombre, a halo around the headstone of the angel that God had finally stolen back. I smiled bitterly to myself; he may not have had wings but there was not even a shadow of a doubt he was anything less than an angel; my angel.
         I wrapped my leather jacket tighter about my shoulders and pulled my skirt down to protect my exposed skin from the damp. None of it made a difference: I was still icy cold. I’d been cold for three years now and it was relentless, I knew in my cold heart it would never subside.
         I haven’t always been cold though. You might find that hard to believe, but its true. Once upon a time I had been as warm as anyone, but things change; people change and people die…people became dead. I still think that is such an odd, and completely inappropriate way to describe him. He was always more alive than anyone I’ve ever known. In my mind that word would never be applicable, for in my heart he would always be alive. He would never be gone; like the boy who time forgot.
          My angel would never grow old or leave me, he would always be perfect and no matter where his body lay, I knew his soul would forever be entwined with my own.
“I love you, my angel,” I whispered it aloud as I gently caressed the black granite, tracing the letters of his name.
         I lifted the cigarette packet from amongst the grass, extracting yet another one and lighting it off the still glowing butt of the first one still clenched within my hand. Extinguishing the leftover and discarding it in the mud next to me, I reached over to the bag I always carried with me, pulled out the glass bottle and admired the crystalline liquid within, before languidly tracing the condensation from the label. I owed this to him. I owed this to my angel; after all, everybody wants a party on their 18th.  How could I deny him that?
         I unscrewed the cap before taking a long gulp, luxuriating in the slightly acidic burning sensation it sent shooting down my throat in a crude and unsuccessful attempt at warming my perpetually cold heart. I drank thirstily from the bottle, knowing deep down that no amount of vodka would ever cure me of the cold that had enveloped me, let alone the parched thirst that nothing seemed capable of satisfying.
         Grimacing slightly, as I pulled the bottle away from my lips, I lay back on the grass enjoying the feeling of ice and heat that had simultaneously gripped my chest.
         Toying with his lighter, I reminisced, popping yet another cigarette into my mouth and I thought, breathing out in a sigh of smoky substance tinged with something that could have been self comfort, I thought.
I thought of everything.
And I thought of nothing at all…
Until gradually my mind had gone blank, until my thoughts had fled and I was just me again, lying at the grave of my beloved angel, staring up into a never-ending sky. It was a particularly beautiful tonight I couldn’t help but notice. It was perfect, a black canopy enveloping a horizon that travelled on as far as the eye could see, until its derelict darkness began to mingle with the night sky. There were a million stars shimmering brightly, like diamonds caught in velvet, the beauty marred only slightly by the viscous gun-powder blue wisps that danced gracefully across them, ghost-like in their fragility.
         I drank deeply from the bottle once again, feeling a giddy rush of nausea scream through me as I pulled it away from my lips, empty but for a drop. I shook my head in a sudden inexplicable display of frustration. Nothing had an effect on me anymore. Nothing numbed the pain. The pain that aspirin couldn’t touch. Lying back with my head against the cool, smooth granite, I stretched my arm across the plot.
         I watched the stars hover above me, seemingly laden with the sorrow of unshed tears, half expecting them to fall heavily to kiss my own. I couldn’t help but wonder if those same stars I was gazing upon, were the same stars he was sitting amongst. With that same thought residing painfully in my head I curled up and waited for sleep to take me, unresisting and melancholy, into its wordless embrace…but sleep never came. Sleep never came anymore. I wriggled slightly, trying to make myself more comfortable as a thousand thoughts of him rushed through my head, flashing lights and agony, like a car crash.
         “I love you, my angel,” I whispered to the wind, a slow, sad smile caressing my lips as a single tear trickled down my face, falling down to merge with the dew soaked grass. We had always planned to spend the night of his 18th birthday together. We had planned so many things. This was one plan I would ensure went ahead.
         “I love you, my angel,” I whispered again, knowing that wherever he was right now he would hear me. A raw heart-wrenching sob cut through the still autumn night and for a minute I thought it was one of my own, before I looked up, startled, as a flock of crows fled the trees to soar up amongst the stars. I looked about me, uncertainly, my eyes probing the darkness before coming to rest on the hunched form of a man kneeling so close, I could have reached out and touched him.
         His grief stricken face stared bewildered and uncomprehending at the white marble of the headstone before hi and I couldn’t help but think how much he looked like my father. He looked so much like my father it was almost agonising to sit by and witness his heartache. I had never really noticed any of the other graves here before and it was almost to shock to see the white marble so close.
         I reached out cautiously and laid a hand upon the man’s shoulder in a brief attempt at comfort but he didn’t acknowledge me, showing no sign whatsoever that he had seen or felt me there, merely shuddering as though trying to shake off fresh air. I turned away, it was none of my business; different people dealt with things in different ways. I laid my hand on the black granite reality before me and stared into the eyes that stared back at me from the photo in the top left hand corner.
         “I love you, my angel,” I murmured once again, tears pricking my eyelids painfully as I tried in vain to stem the flow.
         “I love you too,” whispered back a voice cracked with emotion. I recognised that voice. I would recognise that voice anywhere. I whirled round in shock, my heart leaping violently into my throat, spasming as thought trying to choke me. And there he stood.
         His long black hair flowed out behind him to ride the wind and his milky pale skin seemed to shine with a radiance of its own, startling in its iridescence in contrast with the darkness. His black clothes fit his well built frame perfectly as though night had moulded itself to his body. He smiled a me shyly, ducking behind a veil of hair that shone with a thousand different colours only moonlight could hold. I shook my head sadly and cursed the vodka, looking away; I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the face.
         “You can’t be here…You’re dead my angel.” I uttered it so quietly that the wind ripped it from my lips, throwing it into the trees as though my thoughts had remained unspoken. He glided towards me wordlessly and taking my arms in a gentle, yet almost vice like grip he spun me around, pointing silently to the white marble headstone and the broken man before it. I moved towards it hesitantly, the words shining up at me ironically as I struggled to find comprehension. That was my name.
         I leant forward and found myself staring at my father, staring at my grave. He still hadn’t seen me. He couldn’t see me.
         I got up unsteadily and moved back towards my angel.
         “But Darrell…” I began before he shook his head, begging for my silence with his eyes.
         “You gave up everything for me…” He smiled, his face an image of confusion and bewildered awe. He reached for me and I was in his arms again, his lips on mine, his tears running down to mingle with my own, in what seemed like a never-ending torrent. His ‘I love yous’ seemed to merge into one beautiful, resonating song, wrapping themselves around me and I felt my icy cold heart thawing.
         “Happy 18th baby,” I murmured into his chest. I felt more than heard him laugh, as I took his hand in mine, my tears dripping into his soft curtain of hair.
“You always promised you would spend it with me.” He pulled back and smiled down at me, a smile I hadn’t seen in three years and I melted into his arms, smiling as a tingling flash of warmth broke the last of the ice that had been wrapped around my heart. I looked up into his eyes and knew I had made exactly the right decision before replying, “Well, you never break a promise to an angel.”