Dead Angels (16 page)

“Melody! It’s me, Melody!” I shouted.

She looked at me through the window and her face was expressionless. I banged again with my fist against the side of the car.

“Melody! Melody!”

The car reached the end of the track, then sped up as it turned onto the main road. I knew that I could keep up with the car; If I released my wings, but I couldn’t risk being seen. The humans didn’t like
different
, my mother had told me that. With all the air that I had left in my lungs, I shouted one last time at the disappearing car.

“Melody!”

I saw the taillights glow an angry red as the car slowed at the stop-lights up ahead. I thought about chasing after it again, but I knew in my heart that by the time I had drawn level with it, the lights would have changed to ‘GO’ and the car would be gone again. Then suddenly, I saw the back door fly open and Melody jumped out. She started to run as fast as she could towards me. I raced forwards like a runner flying out of the starting-blocks. I ran as fast as I could towards her, down the centre of the road. I was aware of the sound of cars breaking hard and the wailing sounds of car horns as drivers honked at me.

“Get out of the road!” someone shouted.

I blocked these sounds out and ran towards my friend. We reached each other and Melody fell into my arms.

“She’s sending me away, Isidor. She’s sending me away!” Melody panted.

“Where’s she sending you?” I asked desperately.

“I don’t know,” she said and I could see the fear in her eyes.

“When will you be back?”

“I don’t think I ever will. She’s sending me away for good!”

“Come with -” I started, but Melody was being yanked away from me.

“Keep away from her!” Melody’s mum yelled, pulling at her.

“Let her stay,” I begged.

“It’s because of wicked boys like you that I’m sending her away!” she seethed.

She began to wrestle with Melody as she pulled her back towards the car, which was now completely blocking the road with a queue of cars behind it, all blasting their horns. Melody managed to break free from her mum and came running back towards me again. She threw her arms around me and whispered in my ear.

“I love you, Isidor. Thank you for being my friend.”

“I love you too, Melody. Please don’t go!” I said, beginning to feel the burning sensation of tears on my cheeks. “Stay. I’ll miss you…come with me…”

Her mum was on us again. This time she was trying to wedge herself between us and prise us apart.

“Leave my daughter alone, you evil boy!” she seethed.

“But she’s my friend…” I tried to reason with her through my tears.

“She doesn’t need a friend like you!” she screamed, pulling at the both of us.

I looked at Melody and her eyes were red and streaming with tears.

“I’m so glad I got to meet you, Melody” I cried as I let go of her hand.

The sleeve of her dress rode up her arm and I could see purple coloured rope burns eating into her wrists. It was then I realised I had to let her go. Wherever her mum was sending Melody, it had to be better than being stuck with her.

I watched without moving, as she dragged Melody back to her car, bundling her onto the backseat. I stood and cried as I watched Melody peering at me through the rear window. I didn’t move from that spot until she disappeared into the distance and out of my life. It was then, as I stood alone, I realised there was something wrapped around my fingers. I looked down and saw Melody’s rosary beads swinging from my hand. Unwinding them, I placed them around my neck and have never taken them off.

Chapter Twenty-One

Isidor

I didn’t care if I never came above ground again. I hated it. But before I left, there were two things I knew I had to do, and one of those was to say thank-you to Ray. He wasn’t my friend, but if it hadn’t have been for him, I wouldn’t have gotten the chance to say goodbye to Melody.

Wiping the tears from my eyes, I set off in the direction of his house. It was almost nightfall by the time I reached it. There was a light on downstairs, in the room that I’d seen Ray and his father in before. I only got halfway up the front path when I heard his father’s raised voice again. Just like I had before, I crouched down and crept through the neatly kept flowerbeds, until I was positioned beneath the window.

From my hiding place, I heard Ray’s father say, “I’m going to make a man of you, Raymond. You need to muscle up and grow up. I’m going to teach you some exercises that will put some meat on those bones of yours.”

“But I don’t want to...” Ray started.

“Don’t you dare disobey me,” I heard his father bark. “It’s about time you became a man instead of messing about with your friends. You’ll be in the army soon.”

“I don’t want...”

“Quiet!”
he roared and his voice was so loud and angry sounding that I flinched beneath the window. “Now get undressed.”

Very carefully, I eased myself up and peered over the lip of the window ledge and into the room. Ray was standing on the rug again, his head bowed low. Slowly, Ray started to get undressed, then stopped. 

“What do you think you’re doing, boy?” his father snapped, making a whistling noise through his nose.

“I’m not doing this anymore,” Ray said defiantly.

“You’ll do as I tell you,” his father insisted.

“Not anymore,” Ray said, his voice growing louder.

I watched through the window as Ray stared at his father, those red spots glowing angrily on his forehead and cheeks.

“Don’t argue with me, boy,” his father commanded.

Ray glanced around the room as if looking for a way of escape – to flee this nightmare. He looked back at his father, who was gawping at him. Ray knew that his father wasn’t looking because he had won a fight or done something brave – something he could be proud of. He was staring at him because he was standing in the middle of the living room looking pathetic and weak.

Then, without warning, he turned, rummaged beneath one of the pillows scattered across the sofa, and to my horror he produced a handgun, which he pointed directly at his father’s face. I could see that Ray’s arm was shaking uncontrollably as he struggled to keep the gun trained on his father’s head.

“Don’t be stupid, boy. Put the gun down,” his father whispered.

“I’m not fucking stupid!”
Ray screamed, tears now streaming down his face.
“I’m sick of people calling me stupid!”

His father visibly flinched as his son screeched at him.

“Okay, okay. You’re not stupid. But please put the gun down,” his father tried to reason with him.

“You always call me stupid!
Stupid-stupid-stupid!
I’m fucking sick of it!” he roared, spittle flying from his lips.

“Listen, we can sort this…” his father tried to negotiate.

“
No!
You listen!” Ray screamed and he looked half mad as he waved the gun about.

“Stop! Stop!”
his father was pleading now, his hands raised.

The more Ray became upset, the more his hand and arm shook, the gun waving recklessly only inches from his father’s face.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
his father began to cry.

“Get on your knees,” Ray ordered, his voice wavering.

Sobbing, Ray’s father sank to his knees in the middle of that soft-looking carpet.

“Ever since I can remember, you’ve hurt me,” Ray whispered, trying to keep his voice even. “It stops today, it stops
now
. I’m not a little boy anymore. It was wrong then and it’s wrong now.”

“Please...” his father whined, snot running from his nose.

“You think you are so brave – a hero,” Ray said. “But brave men don’t hurt little boys – only cowards do. But the sad thing is, I’m a coward, too. I hurt someone, bullied them because I could – because they were weaker than me – different from me.”

As I watched from my hiding place, my heart beat so loud that I feared he might hear it. I knew he was talking about Melody.

“But the thing is,” Ray continued, “she wasn’t weaker than me, she was stronger –
better
than me. I just wanted to hurt someone. I wanted them to feel like I did. I can be a hero if I want to be – but not like you, dad.”

Then Ray slowly lowered the gun and placed it on the floor in front of his father. “I was never going to shoot you. I don’t need a gun to feel brave like you do. I’m better than that – I’m better than you.”

“Sorry, Ray...” his father snivelled.

Ignoring him, Ray said, “When I was six you told me that I was never to tell mum what you did to me because if I did, you would kill me. So you better make up your mind what you’re going to do, because mum will be back soon and I’m going to tell her everything.”

His father glanced up at him, his face ashen and old-looking. Tears streamed down his face, but I guessed they weren’t for Ray. Then, before I knew what had happened, Ray’s father snatched up the gun and was aiming it at his son. Ray didn’t flinch or move away. He stood silently and looked down into his father’s face. Those few moments of tension were unbearable and I felt as if I was going to throw up.

Ray took two small steps towards his father, so the end of the gun was touching the centre of his chest. “Go on,” Ray whispered. “You call yourself a hero.”

Then, dropping the gun, Ray’s father covered his face with his hands, and rocked slowly back and forth on his knees as he sobbed uncontrollably. Seeing that Ray had finally found the courage to stand up to his father instead of taking his anger out on others, I crept away from the house and into the dark. I kept to the grass verges and I hid in the shadows of the nearby trees as cars passed on the road.

There was one last thing I wanted to do before I left this hell behind me. I wanted to pay Melody’s mother a visit.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Isidor

The sky was clear of clouds, and the moon hung yellow and old-looking. It was beautiful like my friends had said it would be, but there was little beauty in this world that I had seen. The house stood on the hill in darkness, a flat, square shape, silhouetted against the moonlight.

Melody’s mum’s car was nowhere to be seen, so I figured she wasn’t back from wherever she had taken Melody to. I pushed open the white wooden gate and it made a wailing noise. I crept up the front garden path. Looking over my shoulder, just to make sure I hadn’t been seen, I turned the handle on the front door, but it was locked fast. Not knowing how long I had before she returned, I hurried around the side of the house, checking the first floor windows. They were all locked tight. At the back of the house, I found a wooden cellar doorway set into the ground. It had been padlocked. Glancing around one last time, I flexed my fingers and released my claws. I took the padlock in my fist and crushed it. It fell away and I yanked open the cellar doors. There were a set of stone steps and I followed them down into the darkness. The smell of melted candle wax was overpowering, and I knew that I was in the makeshift chapel where Melody had been punished by her mother. I removed my coat, and spreading my wings, I waited in the darkness for Melody’s mum to return. 

I don’t know how long I waited, but in that darkness, all I could see was Ray pointing that gun at his father. I tried to push those images away, but it was hard to do so. I just wanted to go home and try to forget what I had seen tonight.

It was still dark when I heard the sound of a car pull up and park above me. I heard the front door swing open, and then slam shut. Then, just as I guessed I would, I heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs leading down into the chapel.

I darted across the floor in the dark and hoisted myself up onto the cross that Melody’s mother had put there. I closed my eyes and angled my head forward so my chin was resting against my chest, and cast in shadow.

The sound of a match strike and the smell of sulphur wafted across the chapel. Tilting my head slightly, I opened my eyes a fraction and watched her light two candles. A circular glow of orange light lit the room, and bent forward as if in prayer, she went to a little stone font that I hadn’t noticed before. She raised her hands and in the flickering light from the candles, I could see that they were smothered in blood.

My stomach knotted and I felt sick again, as I feared where that blood might have come from. Plunging her hands into the font, she washed away the blood with the holy water. Then dropping to her knees behind one of the pews, she laced her hands together as if in prayer. With her head bowed forward, she said aloud, “Dear Lord, I have sent my wretched child to you for forgiveness. Please release her of her demons, if that is your will.”

On hearing her perverted prayer, my heart stopped beating in my chest and the chapel swayed before me. I felt as if I was going to pass out, as I feared Melody had been murdered by her mother.

“Dear sweet Jesus, I pray that you reward me now that I have carried out your will...now that Melody is dead,” she said.

Unable to bear any more, I came away from the cross and hovered before her. Hearing the gentle hum of my fluttering wings, she looked up.

“Don’t look,” I roared. “You’re not fit to look upon me.” 

Her face crumpled with fear, and she dropped to the floor.

“What did you do?” I asked, hovering in the shadows above her so she couldn’t see my face.

“What the Lord asked me to do,” she muttered. “I killed the demon within my child by sacrificing her.” 

Hearing this, I landed on the chapel floor and strode towards her, my arms and wings outstretched as if I were about to embrace a small child. I roughly dragged Melody’s mother to her feet and held her by her arms.

With my wings beating furiously behind me, she stared at them and whispered, “Are you an angel?”

“Yes,” I whispered back, “And your Lord has sent me to deliver a message to you.”