by Kay, Jenna
“I think I was being paranoid,” I continued, shrugging. “I overreacted.” I knew it was a very, very weak lie, but from A.C.'s expression, I knew right away that luck was on my side. For once.
“Oh, wow!” she declared, her eyes bugging out in horror. “I bet you were scared to death!” She pulled me into a bear hug.
“Yeah, I'm OK now,” I assured her, pulling away. That's when I took in her formal attire. “Whoa! Why ya so dressed up?” I was stunned to see her wearing a strapless red dress, lots of make-up, and her hair freshly highlighted and put up in a French twist. Compared to her usual ponytail and scrubs she looked altogether a different person.
“Oh,” she said, her cheeks flushing. “I'm meetin' Doug at this fancy restaurant just outside of town. I was five minutes down the road when I realized I'd left my purse.” She paused, shaking her red clutch. “So, naturally as I drove up our driveway I was a little weirded out by the house being ablaze with lights.”
“Of course you were!” I told her brightly. “But I'm done with my little freak out now so you can go meet Dougie-Doug, and I'll turn off all the lights and get ready for bed.” I gently pushed her out of my room, eager to get her out of the house. Sam seemed content to just be resting on my bed—wait, did angels even need rest?
She grinned. “Thanks, girlie-girl. Don't wait up!” She started to go downstairs but stopped, glancing back at me.
“Are ya positive you're OK?”
No, no I'm not. “Yeah, sure,” I lied, forcing a smile.
“All right then. See ya tomorrow or the next day!”
“OK. See ya.” Yeah, about a week from now. We rarely saw each other since school had started. The only times we spoke was when I was leaving for school and she was getting in from work.
As soon as A.C., left I hurriedly went in every room and turned off the lights. The only light that blazed now was in my bedroom. My thoughts rolled over one another in a disjointed chaos as I mentally took inventory of the nights events. Questions swirled in my head, questions that hopefully Sam would or could answer.
What happened after I left?
What was that powerful light that came out of you?
Did you kill Lukus?
Did you kill them all?
Just how do those wings fit inside ya?
Seriously—those things are gigantic!
Even with questions clouding my mind, they all vanished when I walked into my bedroom, thoughts disappearing into the deepest, darkest void in my brain. I closed my door and leaned back against it, taking in the heavenly being laying on my bed with his blue eyes closed. He looked so peaceful lounging on my bed, his features soft and relaxed on his flawless pale face. Though he was wearing very mundane clothes, any human could tell there was something about him that was extra special. His beauty was simply angelic.
“You're not a very good liar,” he murmured, his soft voice causing me to shudder. He opened his eyes, appearing amused.
I cleared my suddenly dry throat. “That's a good thing, right?”
He grinned.
Slowly I walked over to my bed, lowering myself onto its corner. His eyes stared unblinkingly at me as I tried to sort out the storm that was raging in my soul. My eyes scanned over him, searching for anything that would suggest that he was hurt from fighting the demons, but I found nothing. The only change I could find was his normally bright blue eyes were dulled down tremendously, and dark circles were hovering under his eyelids.
My brain still could not comprehend that I was in the presence of an angel; my angel. Even after all that I had been through, I still could not grasp the perception that angels and demons were at war with each other, battling over souls. The reality of it all, though, was that heaven and hell were real, and my angel was laying on my bed talking to me. My angel.
An angel that had just saved my life.
“So. Do you believe now?” He stared at me with seriousness.
I nodded. “Oh yeah.”
Relief shadowed over him. “Good.”
“Did you get hurt?” I blurted out, biting down hard on my bottom lip.
“No”, he answered smoothly, sounding a bit exhausted. “Only drained.”
I grimaced, pushing back tears that were stinging the back of my throat.
“I'm sorry.”
“For what?” he questioned, his eyebrows raising.
“It's my fault,” I specified in a whisper. “You're drained because of me.”
He sighed, shaking is head. “I already told you—I'm your guardian. You are my job, and if I get drained for protecting you, then so be it—you're worth it.” He looked at me with so much devotion that I almost burst out in tears.
“How can you even feel that way about me? I've been such a hard a—”
“Stop, Clarity,” he interposed with such a firm authority, I immediately shut my mouth. He sat up, reaching out and taking my hand, giving it a squeeze. “It takes time to truly understand what's happening to you.”
I felt a tear slip down my cheek, and he softly wiped it away with his thumb.
I glanced at him through tear-filled eyes. “What's happening to me?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Are you ready to listen?”
“Yeah, but I've got loads of questions.”
He observed me, a look of eagerness covering his features.
“OK,” he breathed out. “We'll work together on this.” He grinned. “First things first—let's talk about your hands.”
Chapter Twelve
“What do they mean, Sam?” I asked urgently. “Why do I have tattoos on my hands?”
His eyes fell to my hands. He flipped them over, lovingly stroking the crosses. I winced at the sight of them.
“They are not tattoos,” he answered in a bare whisper, his eyes still admiring them. “They are marks, marks that have appeared on millions since the fall.”
“Why do I have them?” I asked again.
His gaze eventually drifted back to me. “They are the marks of the Seer. You are a Seer, Clarity.”
I stared at him in paralyzed shock. “That's what Lukus called me! But I...I don't...”
I was totally floored and speechless. His proclamation had hit me like a thunderbolt falling from the sky, striking me and then leaving me numb from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.
Seer. Lukus' voice echoed in my head—the demons had called me a Seer. The problem was that I had no idea what a Seer was.
As if reading my mind, Sam leaned closer to me, just inches away from my face, his eyes burning with fired-up serenity. The smell of lavender circulated around us with a calming intoxication of pure love.
“You can see into the spirit realm. Not only can you see what's in front of you, but you can also see what other humans cannot. As your gift matures you'll be able to fight the forces of the wicked alongside me.”
“How is this even possible?” I challenged. “Out of all the billions of people on the planet, why am I the only one who can see supernatural...things?”
“You're not the only one,” he confessed. “In Garlandton you are, but not the only one in the world.”
I looked at him, blatantly puzzled. My head pounded as I tried to grasp his words that sounded like they were blended together in a glass of absolute disarray. I was still trying to wrap my mind around angels and demons existing, and to add Seer to the whole mix was just plain irritating.
“What does Ra'ah and Chozeh mean?” I inquired, knowing very well I was butchering the pronunciations of the strange sounding words. The way they came out of my mouth didn't sound at all like how the demons had sounded.
Sam chose not to point out my brutal massacre of the words. “Those are just other ways to say Seer. Ra'ah basically means that you are able to see. Chozeh means that you're an observer of visions.”
“Visions?”
He nodded. “Most visions come to you through dreams, but sometimes they can happen while you're wide awake. Being a Seer you may be able to see somethi
ng that will happen years down the road, or you will be able to see something just moments before they happen.”
Stupefied I asked, “I'll be able to see the future? How crazy is that!”
“No, no, no,” he replied ruefully. “Don't get your gift from above confused with fortune telling—those are two very different subjects. Your visions will come directly from the Father, whenever and wherever you are.”
Amazement infused my nerves as I digested everything he was saying, and I tried really hard to keep an open mind. Just sixty some-odd days ago my life had presumably been normal, but now I was sitting in my room having a conversation with my guardian angel about me being a Seer who not only could see into the spiritual world, but also could receive visions from God.
My life was so far from normal it was pathetic.
“So,” I began, clearing my throat in the process, “let's go back to my hands.” I held my hands up, palms out. “Crosses, wings, crowns—what's all that about?”
He took one of my hands in his.
“The Father,” he stated, pointing out the crown. “The Savior.” He pointed to the cross. “The Holy Ones.” He traced the wings with his thumb.
I narrowed my brows. “OK, I understand the Father and the Savior, but the Holy Ones?” I was wholly confused.
He ran his hand through his dark hair. “The Holy Ones represent the Heavenly Hosts—angels.”
The marks were starting to make sense but one thing was unclear.
“Why do my hands burn and glow?”
“The light you witnessed tonight, you felt the power of it, right?” He paused as I nodded my answer. “Well, the same celestial essence we angels have is the same essence you Seers have.” He stroked my palm with delicate fingers.
Bowled over by his admission I said, “Ya mean—”
“I mean you have the same power as I, only yours is more condensed.”
“Wow,” I remarked, not attempting to hide my heavy-coated shock. Laughing nervously I said, “Guess that's why they burn like crazy, huh?”
“You'll get use to that,” he told me reassuringly. “In the meantime think of them as your own personal alarm clocks. Weapons, so to speak.”
“Can you teach me how to use them?”
His expression wavered before he responded.
“Yes and no. I can explain how you are to use them but ultimately it's up to you.” He sighed, viewing me through sympathetic eyes. “Until you're on board with God you won't have any understanding of just how powerful and important your gift is.”
“On board?”
His eyes closed for a tick, then flicked back open. “By complying with the Father.” His very straightforward words made me flinch.
“You mean,” I started, rubbing at the chill bumps that crawled up and down my arms, “that I need to start talking to Him again.”
“Yes.”
“Hmm.” Yeah, that I'll have to think about.
A grimace darted across his face. “Don't wait too long.”
Surprised I asked, “On what?”
He grinned. “You know.”
I gawked at him. “You can read my mind?”
“I'm your guardian,” he replied with a shrug. “All guardians can read human minds. You humans can hide thoughts and secrets from each other, but not from celestial beings, and definitely not from God.”
Most people would feel violated by the invasion of someone getting inside their heads, but not me. Well, at least with Sam I wasn't offended, because in some peculiar way I knew without a doubt that he and I were connected, both mentally and emotionally. Also there was the fact they he was my guardian angel.
To some all this would sound like mashed-up gibberish, but to me it was beginning to be the story of my life. In a twisted, disturbed sort of way it was starting to make sense.
Sort of.
“You said my hands are weapons,” I noted, “so whenever or if I comply, what will I be able to accomplish?”
“It's not really about what you can accomplish, but what you can accomplish for mankind. God's greatest creation is mankind, and that's why Satan wants to destroy all of humanity. He and his evil angels roam the earth, searching, sniffing out the weak………their main goal to bring down the human race.” He stood to his feet, walking over to my desk and sitting on its edge. His blue eyes never left me.
“Tonight my angel essence swallowed the darkness, weakening them, putting them through unbearable pain.” He paused, nodding in my direction. “You will be able to carry out that assignment, and by doing that you will help those who are the chosen targets for the demons.
“Once you learn how to use your gift properly, you will be able to drive a demon away with just one touch of your hand, or drive them out of the possessed.”
“The possessed?”
“Possessed humans.”
“Really?”
“Really,” he reacted swiftly. “You see, for Satan to destroy mankind he has to recruit humans to do his work. It all starts with one bad thought, and you can have demons clutching onto you, whispering in your ear, bringing you down to where having one bad thought turns into a bad day; A bad day turns into a bad week; A bad week turns into a bad month—you see where this is going?”
“I guess so.”
“How about this—demons have us humans to do their dirty work against other humans— sometimes possessing humans, and sometimes recruiting humans.”
Astonished I responded, “Ya mean they can talk humans into harming other humans. Not just possessing, but conversing with humans?” He nodded. “What kind of people would...agree to do what demons tell them to?”
His eyes filled with sadness. “There are many that don't believe in God. Instead they choose to believe in dark powers, thinking if they sell their soul to the devil they will be rewarded with whatever their hearts desire. They may at first receive everything the world possesses, but remember that Satan is a sly one, not to be trusted. Unfortunately for the ones who sell their souls, in the end they pay the ultimate price—a one-way ticket to hell.”
I shook my head in disgust. “Unbelievable.”
“Believe it,” he exclaimed, “but you must also remember that God gave humanity free will, the freedom to choose which path they take, whether it be good or bad. It all boils down to what's right or wrong, holy or evil, good or bad.”
I stared at him incredulously. “Holy crap.”
He sat back down on the bed next to me, a speculative look covering his face.
“You said something about your hands glowing—what color did they appear tonight?”
Pondering a moment I answered, “Red.”
“Ah, red,” he said with a grin. “The color of sin, immorality, and bloodshed. Also the color of warfare.” He laced his hands behind his head, lying back down on my bed. “Congratulations—your marks are working in our favor.”
“What do ya mean by that?”
“What I mean to say is,” he clarified, “that your gift did not give you a false reading.”
I sat on my bed cross-legged, staring at him questioningly. “You're tellin' me that my hands are like radars, but instead of little blips on a screen I see pulsating colors on my hands.”
“That's one way of putting it.”
“What does green signify?”
“That heavenly beings are near.”
“You.”
He smiled. “Yes. I am one of them.”
I laid back on my pillows, staring up at my speckled ceiling. My head was hurting so badly that I thought at any moment it was going to crack open from the inside out. There was too much information roaming freely in my skull. I tensed slightly when he laid down next to me, but my tension released when he pulled me into him. I rested my head on his chest, his warm touch soothing my pounding headache and his lavender scent tickling my nose. I melted into him, breathing him in. Though I was clinging hungrily to him and thought he was the most gorgeous creature in the universe, I did not feel any sexual attractio
n toward him.
Sam was an angel—pretty sure falling in love with him was a big no-no. I loved him with a type of love that could not be described on earth. A loving bond that could never be broken.
“This is a lot to take in,” he murmured into my hair. “There's so much to learn and it will take awhile for it all to sink in. I'm always going to be with you—I'll help you get through this.”
“Wait a minute,” I said, leaning up to gaze into his eyes. My eyelids felt heavy, weighed down from the lack of sleep. “I don't know if I want this life. I don't think I can handle it.”
“You're stronger than you think,” he whispered, pulling me back to him.
I yawned loudly, feeling totally exhausted.
“I wished I believed you.”
“I believe in you, Clarity,” he declared softly. “So does God.”
That night my thoughts didn't keep me awake. No nightmares hindered me; no sweat-soaked sheets woke me. No. I slept like I had never slept before.
In the arms of my devoted angel.
Chapter Thirteen
Life had always seemed like a game to me, a never-ending game full of anticipation, hopelessness, extreme happiness, and devastating sadness. You win some, you lose some, and at the end of the day you either feel impressed with yourself, or you feel the utmost humiliation on what you've become.
For as long as I could remember my, life had been a roller coaster ride, having the highest ups, the most twisted turns, and heavy stomach-dropping lows. In a way most people could analyze their lives as an enormous free fall containing a big climb of promise, only to end with a great fall of failure.
My life had taken such a wide surreal turn the past couple of months that I was unsure of what category I could place my life in. My world had been wrenched inside-out, put in a blender mixed with a huge pile of wrongness, only to be cruelly thrown back into a world brimming over with normalcy. However, being normal was not easy to come by in an imperfect world. Still, I did not know where I belonged anymore.
Did I still fit in with my friends? With my boyfriend?
