Even If It Kills Me
I Thought Angels Were Supposed to Be Nice
"Where am I?”
“I guess you could say you’re in between,” she responded.
“In between?” I repeated, my eyebrows raised disbelievingly. She ignored it.
“Come on, we don’t have all day,” the she said briskly, starting to walk off.
“Hey!” I exclaimed, scrambling to follow. “Wait!”
“For what?” she asked, turning halfway around to look at me.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course you can,” she replied. “The real question is whether I’ll answer it or not.” I bit my tongue to keep myself from giving her a smart-ass remark. I hesitated. She smirked, a curious but still teasing smile playing about her lips.
“Am I dead?” I blurted out. That would explain everything. How else could I have gotten to this strange place? I had drank too much, or taken too many pills or something. Her entertained smile faltered a little.
“What is death, Justin?” She paused thoughtfully. “It’s a complicated thing, you know.”
“Are you dead?” I asked, her cryptic speech not giving me any answers. She pursed her lips before answering, no longer smiling.
“Yes. Yes, I am.”
“How did you die?” Maybe I should have been creeped out that I was talking to a dead girl, but I was more curious than anything.
“Look, this isn’t 20 questions, Pierre,” she snapped in irritation. “We’re talking about you here, not me.”
“You didn’t say where we are, technically,” I reminded her.
“We are…here,” she said, spreading her arms out grandly. She laughed out loud at the baffled expression on my face.
“What the hell does that mean?” I demanded. “Oh God…” I said, realizing. “I am dead, aren’t I? Is this hell? Are you here to punish me? Wait, this looks too nice to be hell. Is it heaven? No, it can’t be, because-”
“You have to be the most annoying charge I’ve ever had,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“I thought angels were supposed to be nice,” I pouted.
“Well, I never said I was an angel now, did I?” she asked, hands on her hips. “Now are you coming, or not?”
Did I really have a choice?
“We’ve got places to be, Pierre.” She looked at her invisible watch before heading off.
“It’s Justin,” I corrected, but following her anyways. “What’s your name?”
She abruptly stopped. I almost ran into her, but stopped just in time.
“Angelica,” she answered, flashing me a twisted smile dripping with the irony of it all.
“I guess you could say you’re in between,” she responded.
“In between?” I repeated, my eyebrows raised disbelievingly. She ignored it.
“Come on, we don’t have all day,” the she said briskly, starting to walk off.
“Hey!” I exclaimed, scrambling to follow. “Wait!”
“For what?” she asked, turning halfway around to look at me.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course you can,” she replied. “The real question is whether I’ll answer it or not.” I bit my tongue to keep myself from giving her a smart-ass remark. I hesitated. She smirked, a curious but still teasing smile playing about her lips.
“Am I dead?” I blurted out. That would explain everything. How else could I have gotten to this strange place? I had drank too much, or taken too many pills or something. Her entertained smile faltered a little.
“What is death, Justin?” She paused thoughtfully. “It’s a complicated thing, you know.”
“Are you dead?” I asked, her cryptic speech not giving me any answers. She pursed her lips before answering, no longer smiling.
“Yes. Yes, I am.”
“How did you die?” Maybe I should have been creeped out that I was talking to a dead girl, but I was more curious than anything.
“Look, this isn’t 20 questions, Pierre,” she snapped in irritation. “We’re talking about you here, not me.”
“You didn’t say where we are, technically,” I reminded her.
“We are…here,” she said, spreading her arms out grandly. She laughed out loud at the baffled expression on my face.
“What the hell does that mean?” I demanded. “Oh God…” I said, realizing. “I am dead, aren’t I? Is this hell? Are you here to punish me? Wait, this looks too nice to be hell. Is it heaven? No, it can’t be, because-”
“You have to be the most annoying charge I’ve ever had,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“I thought angels were supposed to be nice,” I pouted.
“Well, I never said I was an angel now, did I?” she asked, hands on her hips. “Now are you coming, or not?”
Did I really have a choice?
“We’ve got places to be, Pierre.” She looked at her invisible watch before heading off.
“It’s Justin,” I corrected, but following her anyways. “What’s your name?”
She abruptly stopped. I almost ran into her, but stopped just in time.
“Angelica,” she answered, flashing me a twisted smile dripping with the irony of it all.
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Comments, please?I asked nicely...