Note: I am trying hard not to write my NaNo, so in order to do that I am writing other things that I may or may not continue. This actually seems interesting and its a work in progress so critique hard. Also I'm in need of a better title. All suggestions are welcome! Thanks for reading.
~Angel
If Love is Not Enough
By Angel of Death
Prologue
A bucket of blue paint was kicked over by God's breath. It splattered all over the pinkish orange tint of the evening's sky. I promised my mom I'd be home at eight but my pain was like quicksand, devouring each step I took. My body was knee-deep in tears, cigarette butts, and kisses. Kisses that were warm on my lips. I could still feel each time our lips met. I could still hear his promises of forever. They were sweet remnants that became bitter realities in a heartbeat. The scent of him made me shiver. I pulled my arms tighter around me, hoping to stop the cold chills that ran through my veins.
You can't tell anyone. Not even your mother.
Digging in my jacket pocket, I found solace in a pack of Newport's. Slipping a slice of normality out of the box, I lit it and placed it in between my salt covered lips. The smoke spiraled up heavenward, disappearing until there was only the smell of burning tar flying around in the air. Embers fell from the edge, and tumbled to ground. Before my eyes, they disappeared. How could something burning with so much life, fall and become nothing? I could answer that question easily. When you make the wrong decisions, and get yourself emerged in a wet lake that's how you becoming nothing but ashes. Nothing but dust.
My mom used to say I was beautiful. She used to come to every dance recital or Poetry slam and be the loudest one there. Now she tells me to stop wearing so many dark clothes and to brush my teeth more often. Those aren't the only things that have changed but they're enough to let me know that, like the pieces of tar that fell from my cigarette, I had crashed into the ground and become invisible.
The wind blew harder, making the smoke sway to my left. I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes. He was there, looking at me with those soft green eyes. His short brown hair was sticking messily out of the Chargers hat I bought him for his birthday. I started towards him, even though I was sinking farther and farther into the ground. Before I could take one last step, something from below grabbed a hold of my ankles. I screamed at it but my voice was gone. My mother was now walking towards him, a grin wide on her face. He pulled her to him, and buried her lips in a passionate kiss. Heat surged up my neck as I watched the two embrace. It was like someone cut out my heart and ripped it apart with their own hands. Who would have thought it would be my own mother?
Tears rained down my cheeks as I opened my eyes. This is not right. Something has to be done.
Throwing the cigarette, I stood up and looked up at the newly painted sky. The artist even added stars to perfect the whole nighttime look.
You can't tell anyone. Not even your mother.
"You're damn right I won't tell...I'll just get even," I muttered.
There was a low rumble and then a huge yellow light illuminated the field. My tall slender form became a shadow, staring back at me. A door slammed and then leaves crunched. I turned to find a guy in a blue football jacket. He was taller then me, with large muscles and rusty brown hair. It was Warren.
"Need a lift?" he asked, coming closer. Though I lived three blocks away, I nodded, a plan already igniting in my mind.
Maybe try to illustrate in a different light
