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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Romance/Love · #1632642
What happens when a forbidden love between a demon and human begin?


Prayer



Dear God, thank You that I can talk with You-that You are my intimate Friend. I want prayer to become more and more a part of my life, so that each and everything I do will be a prayer that ties me closer to You. Amen.



         The swirling colors began as nothing at all, but that. Different shades mixing in with each other. I was able to decipher great works of blue and red, shooting out in amazing rays. While the green and orange came from the sides, creating a picture, almost as if it came from a movie screen.

         I had always had a dream like this very one, filled with multiple colors and shapes…I just never understood what they meant. Or if they were just as they appeared to be.

         “Shelly.”

         A face now burned and blurred through the wondrous hue rays and I was suddenly staring up at Ms. Coral, my English teacher. Her mouth turned into a deep from and the wrinkles in her too tanned face seemed to sink deeper into her skin. I tried to make sense of what was going on, looking around for clues, but my other senses beat me. I was now well aware of the cold, smooth tabletop of my desk pressing into my right cheek and the numbness of my arms, stretched out in front of me, carelessly draping over the top. I sighed. I must be in school.

         “So nice of you to join us. That’s another detention for you, Ms. Hamilton.” She stated, continuing her circles around the rows of students. I started to sit up, yawing a bit and wiping my eyes from grogginess. Another morning to be spent with Ms. Coral. My mother will be so proud.

         “Alright now, girls. Before being interrupted,” she looked pointedly at me, “I was discussing the long term project that will be taking place from now until March.” She grabbed a packet of papers and began giving a stack to the first kids in the row.

         Ms. Coral was to expect everyone to groan in annoyance, disgusted by the unexpected homework. Of course, no one made a sound or complaint about the handout, knowing very well that only trouble would mark out any voice. Here, the teachers held the control. There was no room for mistakes.

         “This will be an individual paper I’m sure you’ll all be looking forward to. We will begin studying music and poems for the time being.” She finished passing them all out and walked up to the blackboard. Firming

grasping a piece of chalk in her clammy fingers, she wrote down some words in her messy scrawl.  “Can anyone tell me why I have given you this?” She questioned, looking back to the class.          

         Dead silence filled the atmosphere, making it much more awkward than usual. Ms. Coral smiled pleasantly, as if it was an accomplishment to leave her students mystified. The smile faltered a bit as she looked for a victim to prey on. Her eyes finally landed on me.

         “Ah, Ms. Hamilton. Care to tell us?” Of course she was still mad about me snoozing during her lecture. She was just getting her revenge back by picking on me. I felt a few glances stray to my face, but paid no attention to them.

         “Right, Ma’am. Music can be a powerful thing, especially in expressing your deepest thoughts and feelings.” I hesitated, waiting for something else to rack my brain with. Nothing came to mind, as I finished off my answer pathetically.

         “Check again, Ms. Hamilton.” She lifted her chin up in superior and gestured down to the sheet. I quickly skimmed the mindless babble until my eyes found the correct answer.

         I want you to write a song to express how you see things and to get a grasp on the beloved sound of poetry and/or music.

Isn’t that what I just said?

         “Now, this does not have to be a masterpiece your writing. I will be grading your grammar, structure, and of course I want there to be some meaning or point your trying to get across.” Her eyes filled with excitement at the mere thought of this poetic assignment. I tried my best not to gag.

         Thankfully, the bell rang before Ms. Coral could humiliate me anymore. I gathered my black backpack and slung it across my chest, quickly fixing up my plaid skirt in the process and followed the class to the door. A hand grasped my shoulder lightly as I sighed, and I turned back to the teacher.

         “I do hope everything at home is going well?” She asked, and behind the oval librarian glasses, I couldn’t be sure if she were dead serious or not. I sighed, knowing this question very well over time.

         “Yes, everything is fine.” It was easy to say this without sounding like I was horribly guilty. I tried to convince myself I was fine at times, just so people would get over this fact and leave me alone. Of course, that was not going to happen.

         Ms. Coral hesitated, assessing my eyes for any doubt filled in them, before slowly letting go of my  shoulder. “Alright.” She said at last. “I still expect you Monday though, 7:15 sharp.”

         

         Walking home was only more depressing than Ms. Coral’s lecture. The sun beamed over my head in blazing heat, seeping through my school blazer and wool black tights. I scowled myself for not picking the regular school uniform, rather than the awfully warm one. Half way down the block, I slipped the jacket around my waste and tied the sleeves into a knot. 

         I hated the idea of such a gorgeous day being wasted on my sour attitude. If I could control the weather, it would probably be flooding the streets with buckets of rain, until the roads turned into giant streams and the city was a land of undying water. The sunny sky was mocking me now, laughing at my obvious hatred for its brightness extending on me.

         I’d finally reached my house, unlocking the rusty, old bolt and twisting the scorching knob until my hand was a light pink. I kicked the rest of the door open with the toe of my shoe and walked in, letting my bag collide to the floor with a giant thud. There was no grace or quiet gesture to the way I arrived. As long as I was here, I might as well get myself noticed.

         Of course Mom acknowledged my presence right away, turning to smile at me lightly. I ignored her greeting, pulled my sneakers of my holding the back of my shoe and pushing down with my other toes. This wasn’t the quickest way to get them off, but it was the easiest.

          I turned over to the kitchen, completely leaving an untidy mess behind me and grabbed a water bottle from the counter. I stared at the liquid for a second, letting my eyes follow the ripples flow through, before sensing a pair of eyes boring into my skull. I looked up.

         “Ah, how was school, Shelly?” Mom asked casually, tending to some papers on the table. I shrugged, my hands still cupped around the cylinder as she spoke. “Any new friends?” She kept on speaking.

         I had always admired my Mom’s determination and patience when it came to the people she cared about, but now I realized I only found it annoying. I looked off to the side, as if offended of  what she said and simply shrugged. I could tell she was trying to suppress a sigh.

         “Well, Noah made a nice friend today.” She continued on and this little detail only registered in my mind. I raised an eyebrow at her, unconvinced. “Okay, so maybe he didn’t quite make a friend. Two year olds

are always so hard to tell; but I did have Mrs. Cambell come over for a visit with Tommy.” She added, either so she could keep the chat up or just as to not look like a crazy woman.

         When I didn’t reply, I saw grief pass through her hazel eyes and she couldn’t hold the sigh in anymore. She turned back to the mail held in her hands.

         “I’m sure you have tons of homework to start on. Best I leave you at that.” She finished at last, turning to face the other way. I reached for my backpack again and dragged it up the stairs, opening the door to my bedroom and deserting my mother once again.

         My room was average, something small and clean enough. I stared at it for a moment, dazing at nothing in particular, before a memory flashed through my head. I quickly shook it off, walking to my desk and beginning my homework for the day. When the sky turned a dark murky color, I grabbed my folder and took out Ms. Coral’s writing assignment.

         I read over the directions as much as possible and my eyes tightened after mesmerizing it ten times. It was clear now why she had given it to us in such a period of time. She was expecting us to really get into the spirit and appreciate English the way she did. I smiled, though I could tell it was cruel, and laughed to myself. I couldn’t wait to see her face once she got a load of mine.

         I grabbed a pen from my old Hello Kitty mug and hesitated over the paper, frowning. Perhaps this was going to take all the time Ms. Coral gave us. Nothing seemed trivial enough for a song.

         I began with the basics in topics. I chewed on the back of my cap, finding that the whole animal category was out of question. Sports was a total snooze, and…My eyes fell over another suggestion on the sheet. Love. The four little letters bored back at me, and I felt my left hand twitch to the odd sensation I began to feel. I quickly looked away, as if that was going to help the situation.

         I shut my eyes closed, took a few deep breaths and struggled to drive my attention somewhere else. If I could just keep myself focused on something pointless, maybe it would work out. My eyes narrowed on the wall paper, concentrating on each pattern and yellow swirl, feeling every nerve of my body tighten, and my face begin to heat up. It was almost like I was pushing myself, willing my mind to keep ahead of everything, rather than sink into the past.

              My attempts were of no help. The moment I dazed out of the pattern, I could see memories unfolding. Images that shouldn’t be real, nervously twisting around in my mind’s eye.

         I tried, very hard, to regain composer of myself; gritting my teeth together until my jaw throbbed at the ultimate pressure. Everything was a giant force in my head, the pictures of them blazing into my skull one at a time. I began pounding my temples with my fists, hoping to shake it out and keep from screaming. Or, at the very least, pass out.

         But it morphed into a rush and I couldn’t bare it anymore. My mouth erupted into a scream, before I forced it shut again and violently threw everything off my desk, a crash of objects hitting the floor with unnecessary force. I began pounding the tabletop with my hands continuously, until they stung and swelled altogether. After my shaken body couldn’t take it, I began gasping for breath. I curled up into a ball on the floor, legs brought into my chest, and took the oxygen in way too fast.

         After what felt like hours passing me, I finally controlled my circular system and hugged myself under the desk. I didn’t think of anything now. Didn’t see, didn’t feel. I was nothing, but a blob of the world. Insignificant to the sky, and the house, and the Earth. I didn’t dare move an inch, and now I needed to remind myself to breath.

         I stayed under my protective shelter as darkness seemed the only option for me. I closed my eyes, and was sucked into the blackness altogether.

         

         Something was very wrong when I woke up.

I knew that every night my mother would come into my room. At that time she’d always placed me in my bed, probably accustomed now to my odd behavior. But waking up to the sheets didn’t give me the feeling. It was the smell of fresh vanilla, an aroma so overwhelming my head began to swim.

         I opened my eyes carefully, and sat up, confused. Where was the fragrance coming from?

         I didn’t see it at first, but my eyes began to adjust, before landing on something black and furry. I stared at the weird and unfamiliar pillow in my room, and reached out to grab it.

         Before given the chance, the pillow moved. I quickly snatched my hand back, seeing as it twitched and wiggled, before turning brown eyes at me. I gasped at it, not sure whether horror or astonishment crossed me first, and came to realize it wasn’t a pillow.

It was a dog.

I watched the animal, the raven combed hair flop careless above his eyes and a tongue hang out. It began as what I knew was panting, and I smelled a new sort of vanilla flavoring. My eyebrows forwarded.

         I’d always heard of the terrible breath dogs had. I remembered when I was about eight, I’d been in contact with a dog. It smelled like a wet walk through the woods and his breath was unbearable. So why did this dog have a great vanilla scent?

         I assessed the rest of the canine; from its curly black fur to the size of its teeth. Everything seemed in order, except for the reason of what a dog was doing here in the first place.

         I suppose my Mom could have gotten it. Something she thought I’d need, considering the whole ‘Man’s best friend’ slogan. But my Mom was allergic to dogs, nonetheless, so I can’t see why she’d do that. It could be a stray, but it sure as heck didn’t smell like one. Did it spend its days rolling in vanilla ice cream?

         The dog suddenly hopped off my bed and walked across the ground with the lightest of footsteps. I got up as well, following when it walked passed the open balcony doors and into the sunlight.

         Guess that explains how it got in. I thought, testing one the door’s force against my grip. It was pretty sturdy; maybe I forgot to lock it or something.

         I looked out to the balcony, walking as far out as it allowed and placing my hands on the metal railing. The warm surface hadn’t been exposed to the sun’s crude temperature, and I was thankful for not getting my hands anymore burnt than usual.

         I stared down from our condo. This was my home, the city. Streets lined under us with cars already racing down the busy roads. Taxi populated most of the area, and shops lined across the street and beyond. I sighed, hearing the occasional honk from cars and the chat bellow of by passers, forming into what was one big buzz. What would it be like to live in a small town?

         The dog’s bark interrupted my thoughts, and I watched as the sun lay over its hair. The light shun over, revealing tints of dark brown rather than deep black. I watched the even and neat curls, before deciding that this was not a stray.

         A stray did not smell good, more or less, than like vanilla. Strays did not have clean and tidy fur, or were so calm around strangers. I graduately smiled, glad all that mind numbing television on animal cruelty paid off. Well, I knew what I was going to do today.



         “That will be 11.00 dollars even.” The seventeen year old girl stated, popping her pink bubble gum and chomping it rather loudly. I reached into my jean pocket, brought out a crumpled twenty dollar bill, and handed it to her. She stared at it in disgusted, flattening it against the register, and placing it in. “Your change is nine dollars.” She handed back the money and placed my item in the bag, without asking if I’d even wanted one. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and grabbed the bag, walking back out with my companion beside me.

         “Well, that wasn’t very customer service like.” I stated to no one in particular, fixing the yellow leash around the dog’s neck and checking to make sure it was snug. I stood back up, quickly checking to make sure it seemed right, and headed off to the national land mark with a stack of papers in hand.

         I walked over to the nearest tree and stapled the sheet, Lost Dog, to the bark. I was upset when it didn’t stick and tried again, before pushing in about five move staples. The corner waved with a slight wind and I sighed. Didn’t people do this all the time in the movies?

         “YO! Watch out!” A voice hollered behind me. I instinctively looked back, my eyes widening at the scene, before my muscles tightened. I sunk myself as close to the tree as possible, feeling the fast breeze blow behind and swing my hair around. I quickly rubbed the back of my head to flatten it, and then stare at the retard who nearly crushed me.

         “You alright?” The voice asked, a hint of concern masking it. Before I could answer, I was slightly dazed. It was a boy who’d have to be just a year or two older, now giving me a wide grin. He had hazelnut locks, trimmed short, but flared out a bit. His skin was pretty light, but something like a tan covered it; and his eyes, the most important piece, were a strange bright green mix. Excitement seemed to rise through them, and his face was flushed from what I imagined was his fast adrenaline rush.

         His smile widened with happiness and embarrassment, now tucking his skateboard under his right arm. I wasn’t sure if the right move was to greet him back or smack him upside the head.

         “Hey? You okay?” He asked again, waving a hand in front of me as if I were mental. I blushed, humiliated by my rushing thoughts that prohibited me from coming up with a coherent answer.

         “F-Fine.” I stuttered, letting my gaze drop to his shoes. Some clean, slick sneakers. The shoes itself seemed new, and even looked expensive. He better watch them. Someone could steal them off his feet.

         “That’s a relief. Sorry about back there, I was going a little too fast.” He admitted, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “I’m Zach, by the way.” He extended a long arm and all I could do was stare.

         “Shelly…” I replied after hesitating, slowly placing my hand in his. There was a definite difference in size, and the warmth portraying through his skin was remarkable. I felt a wave of security fill me, before I pulled my hand away and looked off to the side.

         “Nice dog.” He stated when I didn’t speak, and I looked back up at him.

         “Huh?” I asked, bewildered.

         “The dog you have.” he stated, pointing down at the canine still attached the leash. I gripped the strap tighter in my fist, as not to forget my main reason for being here.

         “Oh.” I replied, before feeling the need to explain myself. “Well, you see, this isn’t my dog. I’m just looking for the owner by putting up flyers, because its just from the balcony on the second floor.” I rambled on as he tried to focus on my words. Curse myself for being antisocial. I must look like an idiot.

         “Ah, no worries. I get it.” He said nicely, whether he meant it or not. He put the skateboard on the ground, placing one foot on back and another forward. He began moving it in such a way, lifting the top part and supporting his weight in back, while steadying it back on the ground. It looked almost graceful to me. “So, looking for this fellow’s home? I can help.” He offered, continuing to move side to side, concentrating on his feet.

         “Uh, no it’s okay. I’m fine and I don’t know if it’s a boy…” I answered, letting the subject drop. He stopped his tricks and looked back up at me, determined.

         “Alright. I’ll help you look for this here bitches home.” My mouth hung open, astounded. He began laughing.

         “Joking, joking. Bitch is what a female dog is called.” He explained and I relaxed, cheeks once again burning.

         “Oh. I see.” I let out, stupidly.

         “Don’t get out much, huh?” I shook my head.

         “I’m not a people person.”

He nodded, understanding and skated passed me, grabbing the papers from my arms.

         “C’mon, slow poke. Maybe you can learn a thing or two about bitches.”



         Turns out, Zach is much easier to get along with than I gave him credit for. We’d spent most of the day together, and though I wasn’t the cheeriest of people, he didn’t seem to mind. It was all small chat between us, neither giving anything personal about ourselves, which I was grateful for. Zach really was the kind of guy I could see any girl know to love, just by his easy going personality.

         He began skating backwards, with me following at his side. “How do you do that?” I asked, awed. He smiled with confidence.

         “Natural talent.” He clarified.

         “Natural talent, huh?” Another voice, a female voice, asked from behind him.

         I had fear that whoever was behind him would be hit by Zach and his skateboard, but his expression was at ease. He turned the board over, in a way I didn’t think possible, and was swiftly on my right instead of front, staring straight ahead, knowingly.

         “Hey, Rosie.” He called nonchalantly. I turned to her and gasped. She was absolutely beautiful. The girl with an almost dirty blonde hair color, twisted in curls and resting above her ribcage. Her skin was a very light peach, just tints away from what I believed would give her a white complexion. She was thin and tall, consisting of the same green eyes Zach had, but in a more liquidated form.

         She wore pink flats and a white skirt that flared out just over her knees, along with some sort of tank top and a pink sweater over. She brought the image of a princess in hiding out, while I quickly felt my casual jeans pressed against my legs, silently mocking me.

         “I hope your weren’t being a show off.” She concluded, looking over to Zach questionably.

         “Nah. I know my manners.” He seemed to tease her skating back and forth from us and the pavement. She sighed, but smiled at me and lifted out her hand.

         “Please don’t mind him. He can be so, well, young at times. I’m Rose, though.” I grabbed her hand lightly, warm and soft as well, and felt myself gawking again at her beauty.

         “Er, Shelly.” I stated, releasing my hold. Where teenagers always this formal?

         “Well, Shelly, I’m sure you’ve had about all you can take with my friend, here.” She gestured over to Zach, who tried to defend himself.

         “Hey! Don’t belittle me. Plus, I saw her first.” He shouted from across the stone path.

         “Indeed, you did.” She muttered quietly, staring over at him. What was going on now? She looked back at me and I tried not to feel inferior.

         “Uh, he’s fine. Just finished the posters.” I stated, and she raised an eyebrow questionably. Now I felt like there was something wrong with me. How many times was I going to feel like a complete mental today?!

         “She means for that dog she has, which she really doesn’t have, who she’s been putting up papers to find who really had the dog.” Zach responded before I could, swiftly skating passed us. She looked over at him and back at me.

         “Alright, then. Any luck?” I shook my head, and took a quick breath. She nodded, as if she somehow understood how this was a problem for me. “I see. I suppose we could help you out, but I’m afraid we have to go now.” Rose sighed, almost saddened by this factor.

         “Oh, that’s right.” Zach stated, reappearing at her side. I jumped, not expecting his presence.

         “Um, okay…” I ended lamely. Would, see you next time, sound weird? I hardly knew them.

         “Hope to see you in the distant future.” Rose called, turning on her heel and walking away. Zach and I stared.

         “Isn’t she something?” He asked, only I couldn’t tell if he was mocking or not. I just nodded. “Yeah, but I really do have to go. So…see yea round, I guess.” He finished and skated after the girl. I was left alone, in the setting background of the park.

         “That was…different.” I let out before heading back home.



         Tonight wasn’t much easier than any other night. I held tight in my bubble, curled together. The only difference this now had was my audience, that strange dog. He whined as I shivered and gave me big, brown eyes. I looked down, avoiding the gaze.

         It was hard enough dealing with this kind of consequence, but another story to have someone watch as you do, probably thinking what everyone else thought about me. ‘Poor girl.’

         I stood up against my better judgment, hating the sense of pity everyone had for me. I staggered to the bed, feeling my legs buckle and wobble, before falling over the sheets. Isn’t life grand?

         

         Monday had come rather slowly this week, and when I woke up I just stared at the clock. I was trying to remember something. Something my mind was warning me about…I thought what I had to do through the day, before remembering my detention.

         “CRAP!” I called, running out of bed. I took a five minute shower, and pulled the school uniform over in a rush. I brushed my hair and teeth at the same time, and grabbed my bag. I was out of the house before my shoes were even on, and slipped them over on the way, forgetting to tie the laces.

         By the time I arrived in room 102, I was breathing heavily. Ms. Coral’s eyes narrowed as she waited at her desk. I walked in, taking my usual seat.

         “Unforgivable.” She muttered once, never saying anything else. She started grading papers on her desk as I stared out the window, waiting for the real punishment to hit me. She finished the sheets and pulled the map back up, revealing a blackboard filled with sentences. “I want you to copy the whole thing three times.” She instructed, underlining the word, ‘silence’. She placed the chalk down and sat back down.

         I literally scribbled the words down, not knowing exactly what I was writing. I knew if I didn’t get this done in fifteen minutes, Ms. Coral would make me stay tomorrow morning as well. When five minutes was felt, Ms. Coral left the room. I sighed, thanking the world, and dropped the pen out of my hand. It throbbed and ached from all the writing.

         The squeak of the door came again as I grabbed my pen, not bothering to look up and continued. I had just a few more sentences to write. There was no clack of her heels against the tiled floor, and I wondered if she’d left. I quickly looked up before locking gazes with dark, brown eyes.
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