Better Angels

[center"He woke up from dreaming and put on his shoes. Making his way past two, in the morning. He hasn't been sober for days."

- Remembering Sunday, All Time Low

I rubbed my hands together, the calluses and blisters burns from the day's work, I looked down proudly at it. The gigantic (To me) pile of freshly chopped wood. I'd been at it since this morning, to avoid helping blow up anceint balloons and hang weak streamers across the yard. Today was Halloween, and surprisingly warm.

Now two years ago, I could be found, seated before my mirror, excitedly applying fake blood and other makeup to my face before going out trick-or-treating in Torrington.

Tonight? I'd be found standing atop the slanted roof of the shed, with the sniper rifle in my right hand, and The Perks of Being a Wallflower in my left.

I and Daryl had eventually finished The Fault in Our Stars, though the ending had been sad, I found it to be quite honest, all things considered.

I walk back to the house, it is five-thirty, and already I feel the dread.

My mom bursts out the front door of the house, a grin the size of Texas across her face, and it's directed at me, that's what has me worried.

"It's about time you got done, let's get you ready."

"Mooom." I moan "I already told you, I'm not going."

"Why?"

"For starters, I don't have a date anymore. And second of all, in the haze of everything that's gone down, I never put together a dress or whatever, I'm much more comfortable in my jeans on the roof with a flashlight, a book and a gun."

He expression is disapproving "Well if the problem is that you have no dress, worry no more, I made you one."

I'm not so sure about this...

"Mom, you didn't have to."

"Yes I did, since you may never have the oppertunity to go to a dance, I gave it my all."

"Once again, you didn't have to. But thank you..."

It is twenty minutes later that I sit in a chair before the vanity in my parents bedroom, the bulge of dark fabric concealed under a dress bag hung on the back of the footboard of the bed, I eyed it suspiciously while she dabbed God knows what all over my face.

I probably would have fought her on the decision to make me go, if she hadn't already gone to the trouble of making the dress wihtout me knowing, she's sneaky, I'll give her that.

When I finally lifted my eyes to the forbidden reflection, I couldn't really recognize myself, I guess my mom not being around other makeup-clad people had taken it's toll... On me.

Silver glitter glowed pale against my skin around my eyes, and my hair was high, in a foreign bun that I couldn't even begin to decipher, even if I tried. My brown hair was curled somewhat, and my bangs were swept to the left across my eyes, slipping down just before my ear.

"Here you go."

Mom lifted the dress bag from the footboard and held it out to me, I rose and took it carefully, opening it to something that was a little more than I'd expected.

What had I expected, exactly? I'd expected it to be old womanish, without the slightest glimpse at who I am and how I relate to my clothing, instead it was a cocktail dress, black and grey, a puffy, ruffled skirt just above my knees and it was strapless, something entirely daring for my mother to put me in, she used to wrap me like a mummy for social occasions if she could.

No skin, and if you have to show it, keep it to a minimal.

"It's beautiful," I admitted in awe, brushing the varying fabrics how they wove together like an actual seamstress had done it.

"Thank you."

I hugged her, the dressbag gathered in my hand, afterwards I went up to my room, seeing the dance as being that much less dreadful now.

I put on shoes, I had one pair of heels, the rest were all converse and Chuck Taylors. And I know my mom wouldn't let me wear those. So I put on the hardly worn silver heels, they didn't match entirely, but it's the best I have.

I don't look in the mirror, I just walk down the stairs (Because I cannot jog) and stride out the door.

It's not the kind of dance you can imagine. At all.

The stereo system? It's coming from the CD players of one of the cars with the windows rolled down.

The lights? Tiki torches and various other lighting techniques.

The decorations, for the most part, are homemade. There is a small table of party food, though it isn't our finest, this isn't supposed to be some royal retreat.

I walk, and stumble twice, reminding myself each time that the ground is far more dangerous because not my entire foot in in contact with the wishy-washy gravel.

I stride carefully, almost considering ditching the heels in turn for bare feet, but mom wouldn't have it.

I sigh and go to walk away, suddenly annoyed by the imitation of something that's gone, forever.

The sun is setting, unleashing an freezing waft into the air, I rub my arms and walk by the stereo car that is playing some song from the early 2000's.

I walk forward, watching the people who are having fun out there, Glenn and Maggie pull out every traditional salsa move I have ever seen, and then some, from spins to sprints to throwing her up into the air, I begin to wonder what style of dance they're even doing.

I also see Rick and Lori, who were volunteering chaperones next to my parents and Shane was on watch. Rick and Lori did the traditional hand in hand dance, moving forward, sideways, backward, looking into each others eyes and their lips hardly moving as they talk so quietly to each other.

I grimace and sigh, imagining that how much fun it'of been going with Jackson. Now he's six feet under and somehow I still canot bring myself to feel much remorse.

Myriah and Mike dance too, though Mike's moves are less precise and timed as my sisters are, klutzy even. Carol chaperones too, but she dances with T-Dog anyways, grinning and laughing.

Carl, Jaden, Sophia and the other little kids are hanging around the food, and Jacob and Beth dance in a fairly uniform fashion. He wears his normal clothes, whilst Beth wears the pretty silver dress she was looking at the other day.

It's almost as though it's in slow motion, I watch everyone else living lives, while I'm dragging on, watching them, watching myself, pull through every day, every year, trying to make a living and forgetting myself, forgetting me. Looking away from who I always wanted to be, the strong fearless go-to person, now... Ha ha, now I'm not even sure.

I cannot smile, as I skip the dance floor and walk off, sitting down on the bench below the trees and watching them live on, proving change can be a good thing, I've yet to find reasoning.

I purse my lips as more people get dragged out to dance unwillingly by the eager friends, groups mixing with groups, I stare until it blurs and it's all just a mass of color.

I see Andrea laughing, despite all that's happened to her, and Jacob, after losing someone from his group, actually cracks a smile. I can only think of one person who I can relate to, I look up, eyes traveling up the wall of the shed, to the figure pearched on the southern edge of the roof, glaring down on the party.

Right now, I feel like Shane. I want to be apart of that world, but I can't... Because I just don't fit in anywhere.

I close my eyes and bow my head, unraveling into anuly beast, I don't cry though, but I can feel it tearing through my chest, ripping my open and exposing my heart.

I squeeze my eyes shut and hear a rustle in the dead leafs on the ground behind me.

"May I have this dance?"

I look up, he didn't look anymore extraordinary than he usually does, he wore his regular walker blood stained cut off button down shirt with his winged vest over the top.

He had dirt smeared on his face like he does everyday and looked plain filthy.

He offers his hand, which has grease and God knows what else on it. I don't think about it much, I just grab him hand and follow him.

"Let us dance, loser." I laugh, tugging him out to the makeshift dancefloor.

"I just want to talk to you, remind you that I miss you, make you see that it's oh-so possible that I could die. And then we'll realize I'm not alright. High, move along, going on, stay strong, I won't let it all die out, though the same can't be said for you, I'm missing you, but it doesn't matter, what does? Nothing does. Cause that's just how it is. I want to talk to you, remind you that I hate me, depressed all the time, I don't dream, it's all a foggy haze, doubted and ablaze, we'll move along move along."

One of those over-done sulking pop songs is playing over the stereo and coming to a close as we step out into the open. Daryl is begrudging, but looks amused to be partaking in such a stupid thing.

We shuffled awkwardly in the north east corner of the dance floor, which was really just the lighted sections of gravel before it faded into sunset dim darkness.

I have sweaty palms, and I've always sucked at eye contact, so I struggle to find something else to look at, something to show false interest in.

"Yer avoiden' me." Daryl notes after several minutes, out awkward side to side hobble didn't match the song, my right hand on his left shoulder and my left hand on his bare right forearm, he wore his reqular old vest, which in metro tone, he was more decently dressed than most of the men who had also used the work clothes facade.

I shake me head and force my eyes upward for a fraction of a second before they darted elsewhere. I wasn't sure exactly what was wrong with me, right now I was striving to disappear from the public scene.

"Yes you are." He almost chuckles "What's going on?"

I shrug a little, but it ends up just being a limp lift of my left shoulder. "I just don't like dances...." I sigh.

Now he laughs "Me neither, why?"

I sigh and look up at his narrowed dark eyes "Cause it involves wearing ridiculous clothing and moving with everyone else."

"So why didn't you just wear your jeans and a t-shirt?" He asks in confusion.

"Do you really think my mom would've allowed that? God, she wouldn't dream of a day where I didn't dress up for occasions, so I guess the end of the world didn't change everything." I grin.

I nods in agreement, the semi awkward, comfortable silence passes on and another song starts.

"I'm gonna break-break-ba-break-break your heart, break your heart. Knew it'd end up this way straight from the start-start-start, right from the start. Ya shoulda seen it coming, like the frieght lights blinding your eyes, your eyes. So hold on tonight, cause I'm gonna break-break-ba-break-break your heart, going to break your heart, break your heart. Watch your back tonight, cause I'm gonna break your heart, break your heart, break your heart. Head down to level one, of the hospital of heart diesease, you can tell em' all that it was me, who did it. Who did it, who did you in. Now listen! I'm gonna break-break-ba-break your heart, break your heart, break your heart. Hear me? Gonna, gonna break break break your heart."

"Cliche damn teen songs..." Daryl muttered under his breath when that one stopped, there was a silent pause as the CD's were switched for an mystery effect, but really? How much surprise could you muster from a total of seven CD's? Three of them by the same artist.

I nod and laugh, "Indeed, I'm gonna break-break-ba-break your heart, break your heart, break your heart."

He made a look of sheer disgust and pushed me away from him a little, I laughed.

"Never sing that in my presence again!" He hissed, maybe trying to sound menacing, but he didn't succeed much, I just laughed at him harder.

"You are such a softy, and so hard to take seriously." I grin, playfully punching his forearm.

He rolls his eyes and walks towards the 'music car'. "Right, kid." he mutters as he goes.

In Daryl's absence, Myriah approached me with Mike in tow, the awkward silence drifted between us like a fog, only far more harsh, like a richoceying ping-pong ball.

"Hey." She finally says, I notice her tight, nervous grip on Mike's arm.

"Aries..." She says in a low voice "Can I talk to you for a second? I'll be brief."

I look back at Daryl, who is talking with Rick. I turn back to her an nod, looking warily at Mike "You mean alone, right?"

She sighs and whispers something in his ear, the way she usually does, and he walks away, throwing a glare over his shoulder at me, I have made no progress with him, the main reason being that I don't want to.

Myriah laces her arm in with mine, and we walk off towards the shadows of the backyard, to the faded white gazebo.

I sit, poised on the edge of the wooden bench, ready to hop up and leave if I have to, I haven't been too big of a fan of Myriah and I's conversations lately. They were either yelling, piss matches, or sympathetic words from her about how she understands my realationship with Jackson, and that she's sorry. I'm damn tired of the apologies.

"So, I want to ask you what you're doing."

"What?" I ask confused.

"I know you're confused-"

"What are you going on about?"

"Your friendships, everyone you love and have befriended, I want to know if you're happy with that."

"When did you start caring if I was happy with my friendships?" I demand, and from her wounded expression I know it hurt as bad as a lash from a whip, but she retailates before I can apologize.

"I care now, and that's better than nothing, isn't it?"

I shrug, I honestly don't care how she interprets it.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I've made some good friends, it's helped me with the loss of Josh and Ida-Gene." I sigh out a long breath "These people are good, I can relate to them. Anyways, why did you want to know?"

She look like she wishes I hadn't wondered.

"I... I'm just not entirely sure about Daryl. You're so soft and caring, he's too much of a damn brute to be friends with you."

"Is that the problem you're having?" I demand "Why does it matter if our personalities differ? Yours and mine did! And I hated every single one of your friends but that didn't stop you from jumbling us together everytime we spent the night."

"I know, but not in the same way. You should be friends with people your age, Carl and Sophia, Liam and Jacob-"

"I tried to be friends with them, it's not the same. They alienate me, I'm not the same as them, I'm too far gone."

I stung, the firey feeling forming the outline of her palm aainst my left cheek. I glared up at her, her eyes narrowed "Never say that!" She hissed.

"Well I am, dammit! Too far fuckin' gone, I can't go back, I'm a heartless, bitter fucking bitch that no one likes because I can't smile about jokes and poke fun and cheer into everyone. Because I'm honest they don't like me, because I tell them how the world is, how it's gone to shit, we ain't going back."

"This isn't where the conversation was supposed to go." She sighed, turning her face away shamefully, making confused as I looked at her, the slap against my cheek dulling into a numb throb, I see a single tear slip don't her cheek and she wipes it quickly, looking at me with the vauge outline of a smile.

"I can't believe you haven't seen it yet, that no one has. I thought it'd be pretty obvious." She shrugged as she slowly unraveled into an emotional wreck.

"What are you talking about?"

She just laughs, and stares straight ahead while her face is blank and it looks as though she has no intentions of answering.

I stand up frustrated and walk out of the gazebo, jog down the two steps and head back to where Daryl stands alone, looking around himself.

"Aries wait!"

I look over my shoulder but I don't stop, she's walking after me quickly.

I step into the lantern light, walking towards Daryl when my hand is grabbed and yanked backwards.

I glare back at her angrilly "You didn't want me anymore, so don't act like you need me now." I seethed. Eyes burning into her helpless ones that screamed for sympathy, my anger wavered as I forced the glare to burn on.

"But-" she heaved a deep breath, "But this isn't about that, it's good news."

I lift my eyesborws slightly, my glare easening as I wait for her to talk.

"I'm pregnant."