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The Sky's Crack part 1

Kinda of a magical girl story, in an odd way. It contains as a supporting character someone familiar to a few of you. Once again, bear in mind that I'm rusty at writing and could use criticism. First draft and all.

Record of Donna Weaver, Lovely School Psychologist, having an interview with Angel on the 12th of April. The boring school records refer to her by another name, but we don't care. Unauthorized listeners shall be turned into flowers and their nectar eaten. Begin interview.

---

They call me the angel girl. Some mean it in a nice way. Some don't. It's based on the day I told the class I wanted to be an angel. That whole telling the class your planned future crap. I was just a little kid, jeezus, you don't have to give me shit for something I said years ago.

I do still like angels. Not even necessarily in the Biblical sense. I'm not really a Christian like people tend to assume, though I did like some of Jesus's messages, but then again, I like a number of other spiritual figures' messages too. It seems like most religions're aiming at the same thing, even if they fall off the mark in different ways. Besides, the Bible (or the Torah) didn't invent angels.

I do believe there's a force for good out there. Whatever it is, I'd like to join its side. Give the world some love. And justice.

Uh. I don't know. Maybe I'm already on its side.

Today, I fell off the fifth floor and wasn't even hurt.

I was leaning out the window, trying to reach an escaped hamster. Don't ask me how it got out on the ledge. Suddenly, I felt a force pushing me. No, not hands. A pressure all over my body.

A brief moment of "Oh crap." There's the pavement rushing at me, wide-eyed faces staring. I spread my wings and land with only a little jar. Yes, I said wings. It's really embarrassing, but right in that moment I felt like I had wings. Kinda stupid. But I didn't go splat or anything. Just landed right on my feet and gave the other starers an equally bewildered stare.

I don't know what the hell happened today.

Heh, Jenna would've given them a bow.

I don't know why I'm telling you this. I wouldn't tell most school psychologists this stuff about the imagining I had wings and such. You do seem nice. Nicer than any school psychologist I've met. It's like you radiate trustworthiness.

So. Lots of "Are you okay?" and such. They sent me to the clinic even though I wasn't feeling any pain. The nurse gave me a checkup and said to tell her if I felt any pain (see, I said so!). But she also told me to get a rest because I had a slight fever.

Hell, no. I'm not missing class over this. Well, maybe another class. But not Gym. Gym's when I get to do some real moving. No sitting around in stuffy classrooms.

"Hey, albino!" Ugh. They call me that even though I'm not an albino. I'm really pale-skinned, Nordic and all, with very blonde hair. Almost white blonde.

I ignore him. He used to beat me up, before the day I pulled some crazy ninja roll and flip when he pushed me over. Awed him or something. Now he acts all buddy-like. Which I'd be fine with, if he didn't still pick on other kids.

"Unholy bleeding diaherra crap, it's gym, oh hey Angel, wanna go buy the new pony release today?"

That's Jenna. A real fanatic for cutesy things like brightly colored plastic ponies, and she also does weird things like bite me just to hear me yowl, but...

Why am I telling you all this? I've never told any shrink this much the first time. Why do I have a weird feeling about you? Just what are you? I mean, it's a really freaky weird feeling like nothing I've...

Oh. Oh my gods.

---

This diary was helpfully provided to me, well after all the events involved, by Angel herself to fill in the details unavailable to me. Once again, unauthorized readers shall be turned into beautiful flowers.

---

04/12/XX
Hello, diary. No, I'm got going to say "Dear, diary." So, hello, diary.

I usually don't bother keeping one. But this was a really bizarre day and I want to write it all down so I don't forget. Even it might get used as evidence for my commitment into an asylum one day.

It started with the fall. I actually felt those wings, like they were a part of me. So real...

[content cut for redundancy - Donna]

So, this crazy Latino girl with an adorably round face and chin-short hair's gushing about the new plastic ponies. And today in gym it's dodgeball. Dodgeball's the one gym activity I don't like so much. Seems to bring out the mean in people.

And there it is. I'm really good at this game, but I'm still bruised all over by the end.

And then I was in my secret place. A place of whiteness in my head, everything all peaceful whiteness in every direction, a bright glow. "What?" I blurted to Jenna, who was there too.

"What what?" she said back.

I look around myself. Everyone else were there too. "What're we doing in Heaven?"

That gets me stares. And the gym teacher forces me to go to the shrink.

The shrink had totally black eyes. No eye whites, just black black. Really bright red hair, like it was dyed. A broad, warm smile. Radiant, really. She'd lean forward, grinning with that slender face. Long, fine. Something about her made me think of a doe.

She had a habit of saying things like "Ah, wonderful, do say more!" - a kind of fascination that just invited saying more.

I don't know why she seemed trustworthy. Or why I didn't notice the eyes. Let alone the feeling. Both pleasant and sinister. Like I was being smoldered in honey. Or trapped in a nicely floral smelling web. I could feel her interest on me like a pressure. A pressure slowly squeezing words out. It was a pleasantly warm smoothing pressure, but still a pressure squeezing me.

"Stop that!" I snapped at her.

The pressure stopped. She quirked her eyebrow. "Ah, how wonderfully intriguing, you can sense that, too."

I said, "Seriously, what the hell are you?"

The shrink smiled softly. "The school psychologist Ms. Donna Baker, though that doesn't really mean anything. It's just a role I'm playing. Now, Alef's just another role I play, if a more meaningful one with far more sparkle to it. Not that you know anything about that role. However, you won't get the simple answer to what I am that you're hoping for. It isn't a question with a simple answer."

She leaned forward. "But the question you really want to ask, not the question you have right now but the eternal question you've always held, that is, how can you become an angel?" She paused for dramatic effect. "I can tell you."

My heart quickened. I drew in a slow breath. "What. Just leave me alone. You're creeping me out."

"Donna Baker" glanced at the clock. "Ah, yes, you do want to go, and it's time anyway. Here, take this card, you can call on me anytime."

I was going to reject the card, but it vanished the moment it touched my hand. I felt a tingling in those fingers. I shuddered. And bolted out the door.

I told Jenna all about everything. She listened with nods here and there and then said, "Maybe the school shrink's a devil."

I stared at her.

"Seriously, it kinda makes sense," Jenna said, "You're the Angel Girl, and she's pulling the temptation shtick on you."

I said, "Cut the crap out."

Jenna held up her hands. "Okay, okay. Trying to brighten the situation up. Hey, maybe ice cream'll cheer you up. My treat."

The rest was a fairly normal day. A quick shopping trip for Jenna to grab the newest ponies, then ice cream, home, reading, homework, that kind of thing

Comments

( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
relee
Jun. 16th, 2008 07:18 am (UTC)
Finally getting around to reading these. ^.^

The situation with Donna Baker sounds a lot like me. A lot of people open up to me shortly after meeting me, telling me all their darkest secrets that they share with only their most intimate friends. I love it when people do that. ^.^

One girl I know, an alien who is living in the Netherlands, even became suspicious when she realized how many beans she was spilling, and asked me if I was a secret agent trained in interrogation. XD

In reality, though, all you really need is a compassionate ear, and your secrets roll out of their own volition
( 1 comment — Leave a comment )