Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Angel ❯ One-Shot
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Cellar_Door 
Sometimes not all of us are meant for this world...
Miscellaneous: Original Stories Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Psychological | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 01.23.2007 | Pages: 1 | Words: 645 | Visits: 525 | Status: Completed
Sometimes not all of us are meant for this world...
Miscellaneous: Original Stories Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Psychological | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 01.23.2007 | Pages: 1 | Words: 645 | Visits: 525 | Status: Completed
Their eyes inhumanely glistened under the ever changing colored lights that shown on them, and only them. Their bodies swayed, tempted and shook to the music as eager eyes reached toward them but only missing the sweet touch of an angel. They were their angels and right now, she was his angel. She was his paper angel, nothing more than a fragile image.
Strands of wet blonde hair cut through the lights. Of course, she remembers a time where her hair was red and curly. Her heart longed for the song to be over. After this, she could retreat away and maybe be safe for another night. After a few more moments of one dollar bills being thrown and stuffed to her like some kind of animal on parade, she was able to get down from her pole of shame. Behind the scenes there was a large mirror where faces could be taken off or reapplied. No one was real in this circus world.
Out the backdoor was her carriage, not meant for a princess, but for her. A sad car with gurgling cries somehow made its way back home to a home that was not a home. A home is a warm place where one feels welcomed. This place was cold and damp, and the only way to feel welcome was to have the rent on time.
In the bathroom, the water started with a struggle through the nearly frozen pipes in this dead winter. Her fake face melted away down the drain, scrubbing herself with a vain attempt to rid herself of today’s filth. The sponge was rough against her skin, causing it to irritate and hurt.
“Dirty, dirty, dirty…” When she was ten, her mother and father got into a fight. Her dad went to cool off in a car ride. Apparently, another father was out cooling off too because their cars thought it necessary to meet at the head. Afterwards, her mother became an alcoholic, leaving and coming home with a different man every night. During 10th grade, she had to drop out of high school because she missed too many days and was unable to continue. At eighteen, she left home without her mother being none the wiser and made up the false name of Angel Rayne and make her life on stage, the only way she knew how to.
Only four years later, had she grown tired of this false life she led along with nameless faces. Caught in a whirlwind of her own self loathing and depression, it was impossible for her to pick herself up, or so she thought. It was now clear she lived too fast and didn’t want to any longer.
Outside, the city was busy for it never slept. The lights were always on, the cars were always screaming at one another. It was always dark, even in the daylight. This whole world was dark, and nothing was real.
Cold, wet, and naked, she stepped out onto the ledge and looked down from her apartment into the alley way. A pro and her fix for the night had just finished up in the dark and were making their way back to his car. Below her was a dumpster…
Her eyes looked upward toward the sky in search for the mood for one last look of beauty that wasn’t apart of this fake world. But nothing tonight, the smoke and light pollution had filtered out the moon and stars. Nothing was with her tonight.
As naked as she was the day she was forced into the world, she took her first and last drive, the only drive that actually made sense to her… Right into the trash, where she believed she belonged…
Strands of wet blonde hair cut through the lights. Of course, she remembers a time where her hair was red and curly. Her heart longed for the song to be over. After this, she could retreat away and maybe be safe for another night. After a few more moments of one dollar bills being thrown and stuffed to her like some kind of animal on parade, she was able to get down from her pole of shame. Behind the scenes there was a large mirror where faces could be taken off or reapplied. No one was real in this circus world.
Out the backdoor was her carriage, not meant for a princess, but for her. A sad car with gurgling cries somehow made its way back home to a home that was not a home. A home is a warm place where one feels welcomed. This place was cold and damp, and the only way to feel welcome was to have the rent on time.
In the bathroom, the water started with a struggle through the nearly frozen pipes in this dead winter. Her fake face melted away down the drain, scrubbing herself with a vain attempt to rid herself of today’s filth. The sponge was rough against her skin, causing it to irritate and hurt.
“Dirty, dirty, dirty…” When she was ten, her mother and father got into a fight. Her dad went to cool off in a car ride. Apparently, another father was out cooling off too because their cars thought it necessary to meet at the head. Afterwards, her mother became an alcoholic, leaving and coming home with a different man every night. During 10th grade, she had to drop out of high school because she missed too many days and was unable to continue. At eighteen, she left home without her mother being none the wiser and made up the false name of Angel Rayne and make her life on stage, the only way she knew how to.
Only four years later, had she grown tired of this false life she led along with nameless faces. Caught in a whirlwind of her own self loathing and depression, it was impossible for her to pick herself up, or so she thought. It was now clear she lived too fast and didn’t want to any longer.
Outside, the city was busy for it never slept. The lights were always on, the cars were always screaming at one another. It was always dark, even in the daylight. This whole world was dark, and nothing was real.
Cold, wet, and naked, she stepped out onto the ledge and looked down from her apartment into the alley way. A pro and her fix for the night had just finished up in the dark and were making their way back to his car. Below her was a dumpster…
Her eyes looked upward toward the sky in search for the mood for one last look of beauty that wasn’t apart of this fake world. But nothing tonight, the smoke and light pollution had filtered out the moon and stars. Nothing was with her tonight.
As naked as she was the day she was forced into the world, she took her first and last drive, the only drive that actually made sense to her… Right into the trash, where she believed she belonged…