ANGELIC VOICE

No. 1:

WHISPER

It's all so annoying.

Why must I continue to celebrate my birthday? What's the point of having a huge beach party? My so called best friend will be the one throwing the party, the little traitor. At least my parents, even my brother, respect that I don't want to celebrate it.

I'm turning seventeen today. Normal people my age look forward to their birthdays. A big ass party and presents . . . what's not to love? But I always get nervous, maybe even anxious. Not about the party or the gifts, but because of that voice . . .

I can't explain it, and I know that if I tell anyone they'd no doubt question my sanity. But for as long as I can remember, every night on my birthday a voice whispers in my ear as I fall into a peaceful sleep. Whispering, wishing me a happy birthday, before saying, “Just a few more years . . .” then something soft and warm—which I’m guessing are his lips—press against my forehead, temple, cheek . . . each year the lips edge closer and closer to mine.

Last year the voice said, “Just one more year . . .” then kissed the corner of my mouth. Now, that year is over and that's the reason for my anxiety. Now that the year is over, what is he planning on doing? It is a he, I can tell by the huskiness of his voice. It's kind of . . . sexy . . . though I’ll never admit it out loud.

“Come on Erin, can’t you at least pretend to be excited for me?”

Snapping out of my thoughts I shoot a glare at my best friend, Amy. She's the one throwing this stupid beach party for me, despite me telling her to not bother. She's hard headed though; she does things her way and doesn't really listen to what others say. The girl’s always in a world of her own.

So here I am, sitting on an uncomfortable metal stool and sketching out a self portrait of myself for my Drawing class. It’s the last class of the day, thankfully. I'm only partly paying attention to what I'm drawing. I can see Amy peeking over my shoulder from the corner of my eye. Her mouth twists in confusion.

“We're supposed to do backgrounds too?”

“Hm?” I blink; finally looking at what I've drawn. It's me, but a more old fashioned me. In the background there's this huge old styled mansion and I can see that I had started to draw someone standing behind me. The man also looks old fashioned, like he’s from the 1800’s. It isn't anyone I know, yet I feel like I know him. He's familiar.

Did I really draw this?

“Who's that? He's hot,” I hear Amy state, nodding in approval.

“Er, I don't know.” I shrug it off and rip the paper into tiny little pieces, then crumple it up and throw it in the trash.

Well okay then, time to start over again.

Thankfully, Amy doesn't question me about it; she just goes back to focusing on her own drawing. She knows how random my drawings can sometimes get. When I draw I space out sometimes and I'm not fully aware of what I'm drawing. I'm not sure where these images come from but I don't really question it. But that picture won't leave my mind. It isn't just because I had drawn myself wearing an old fashioned wedding dress, nor is it the strange setting. It's the man who stood behind me in the drawing. I know I don't know him, so why does he look so familiar? Maybe I had a dream of him once. Or maybe it's some random guy I’ve passed on the street or in the hall . . . though I highly doubt I'd forget that face.

Before I have time to restart my drawing the bell rings and Amy starts dragging me out the door like a rag doll. She insisted earlier this morning to drive me home today. I won't get my car back until after the party. That way I can't 'escape' as Amy so nicely put it.

I put my face in full pout mode as I sit with my arms crossed in the passenger’s seat. I don’t like this, but no one really seems to care at the moment. I mean, this is my birthday; shouldn't I be able to do whatever I want?

“We're having a beach party! So try and have fun okay?” Amy smiles as we drive down the road. I can tell she's excited about this whole beach party thing, but I can't really bring myself to join her.

“I said I'd go, but I don't remember saying I'd have fun,” I grumble.

Amy ignores my attitude and pout. She sings along with the song she has playing in her CD player. I'm not going to win. That much is obvious. So I sit back in the seat and prepare myself for a night of complete and utter awful.

The beach party will start at 7:00pm and end around 10:30pm. Not very long . . . but my parents didn't want me out late on a school night. Naturally. It actually surprises me that they even care enough to set a curfew. Normally they just ignore my existence, my brother's as well. It used to really piss me off, but now, I'm so used to them ignoring us that I don't even care anymore. My father pays attention every now and then, but mom, pfft, fuck her.

Well, at least it won't last all night, that'd be a nightmare, so I guess I'll have to thank them for that.

Amy takes me home to make me look pretty. Ugh. She has me in a white tank top and a thin, long flower skirt that ties at the hip. Underneath I have a bikini on but I don't really plan on swimming. I just put it on to make Amy shut up. I feel like I'm dressed for Hawaii. I'm even wearing one of those flower necklaces. I mean really, am I going to a birthday party or on vacation?

When Amy’s done with me she steps back to observe her handy work. After having her eyes roam over my body for a good minute she smiles in obvious satisfaction. She loves playing dress up with everyone. Even herself . . . guys too. It was actually quite comical when she dressed my brother up this one time in one of those Hawaiian dresses with coconuts covering his nipples. Ah yes, I still have that picture for future black mail too.

“Aw, you look so pretty, Erin!” she squeals, clapping her hands together and tilting her head to the side. She runs up to me to give me a big bear hug. I swear this girl has something against breathing. I gasp for air but she doesn't let go.

“Amy . . .” I gasp, “if you . . . want me . . . to live . . . long enough . . . to go to that . . . stupid part . . . drop me . . .”

Hearing how out of breath I am she steps back and smiles at me, batting her eyelashes. She gives me a look that purely states ‘who, me?’ . . . it’s a little too innocent, actually.

“Opps, sorry!”

“It's fine,” I take one glance at myself in the mirror and visibly wince. She went a little overboard with the Hawaiian get up, but whatever makes her happy I guess . . .

The things I do for her.

“Oh! You have such smooth looking lips!” Amy suddenly shouts.

“Huh?” I blink at her, not really sure what to say to that.

I watch as she prances over to my dresser and digs out some lip gloss. Oh, now here comes the fun part. She skips back over to me and grasps my wrist, then proceeds to drag me over to my bed. I think about struggling, but what good will that do? She’d drag me across the floor kicking and screaming if she has to.

She sits me on my bed and smiles.

“Let’s make your pretty lips more noticeable okay?” she stops to giggle a little. “You have really nice lips. They’re full and pouty, have you ever considered a lip ring?”

“I can honestly say that I haven’t.”

Ear rings are one thing, but lip rings are another. I’m not that rebellious.

Humming in response she twists the lid off and applies some to my lips when I pucker them for her. When she's done I glance at myself in the mirror to see very shinny lips.

Okay . . . I do have pretty kickass lips.

“Aw, you make me want to kiss you!” Amy smiles and places a sloppy, wet kiss my cheek. I scrunch my nose and wipe the spit off with my sleeve.

“Alright, you’re presentable, let’s go!” She grabs my wrist again—I’m going to have red marks—and pulls me off the bed and back on my feet. “Come on! Slap a smile on that sexy face of yours and let’s get going!”

I try my best to smile for her but it turns out to be a grin. It satisfies Amy though and that's what I was going for. She drags me out the door, waving to my parents who are also getting ready to leave, then practically throws me in the passenger’s seat.

“Amy! Are you trying to kill me?!” I had almost tripped down the stairs a few times too.

Ignoring me, she slams the door and skips around to her own side. She hops in the driver’s seat and looks at me. “Hurry up and put your seat belt on,” she commands.

Please let me survive the night.

-

-

When we get there I'm surprised by how many people are there. I don't even know half of them. They probably just came for the free booze, that and, what healthy young teenager doesn't like to party? Well, I don't, I guess I'm just not a healthy teenager then. But oh well. Really, I’d rather be at home, taking a nice long bubble bath.

So I’m a little antisocial, no big deal, I just don’t trust people.

When we get on the sand I grab Amy's arm and yank her back.

“Amy, who the hell are all these people?”

Amy smiles. “People who want to celebrate your birthday! Don't worry, they all brought presents.”

I frown, like I really care if they brought presents or not. I mean really, this is turning out worse than even I thought. I'll just have to grit my teeth and bare it, and if I can, smile as I do.

Amy kisses me on my cheek again, she does that a lot, and then takes off to do something. Honestly, I'm too afraid to ask what it is. I take off my sandals and walk to one of the picnic tables, enjoying the feeling of the cool sand between my toes. At least I can try to relax a little.

I stretch my legs, my feet digging further into the sand as let out a yawn. I didn't sleep that well last night. Not just because I was dreading the party that was sure to come, but because of what I know will be waiting for me when I go back home to sleep.

I'm getting more anxious by the second. I decide to distract myself by looking at all who came. My eyes scan the sea of people and . . . damn. Pretty much everyone at our school is here. And I barely know half—scratch that, I barely know any of them. I do notice how most of them are boys with a beer attached to their hand. I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes.

I continue to look at the faces around me when one face catches my attention.

My eyes widen at the boy sitting at the picnic table across from mine.

Once our eyes lock, I'm unable to look away. He grins when he sees this—whether out of amusement or satisfaction I can't be sure—showing off a row of perfect white teeth.

I find myself taking in his appearance, which is kind of hard to do with a few people walking between our tables. He has cinnamon colored hair; his skin is pretty pale but doesn’t look unhealthy. He has high cheek bones and a straight nose. But what stands out the most are his eyes, those beautiful cat-like eyes. They’re big and he has emerald orbs that seem to be shimmering like the moon.

But the thing that surprises me the most is the fact that he's the same person who I had drawn in class.

Does he go to my school then?

Where have I seen him before?

“Erin! Look, over here!” I hear Amy call. The boy looks away, releasing me from his piercing gaze. I start, and look back at Amy who is now standing behind me with a wide grin.

“Amy,” I breathe, not realizing just how much power those eyes had over me, “who's that boy over there?”

“Hmm?” Amy stands on her tippy toes and looks over at the table and then back at me. “What boy? Who are you talking about, Erin?”

I quickly look back at the table only to see that the boy is indeed gone. How had he left so quickly? Maybe I was just seeing things. The picture I had drawn is still fresh on my mind. Yeah, that's it. My mind is playing tricks on me. I have nothing but my lack of sleep to blame for this.

“Oh . . . he must have left . . .” I mumble, more to myself than to her.

“Pssh, forget that! Look! Look!”

She grabs my arm and begins shaking it. I turn and watch in horror as two boys carry a huge cake—like a fucking wedding cake huge!—walk over to the picnic table and set it in front of me.

Ugh. The worst part of the night has come.

There really is nothing too dramatic about the cake; it’s just that I don't really like cake. Brownies are fine but other sweets I can easily live without. I'm not really one of those girls who crave chocolate. The way to my heart is definitely not by buying me sweets for Valentine's Day. It’s just that in these situations I feel as if I’m expected to eat something I don’t like and that just sucks.

“Make a wish, Erin!” Amy claps, laughing like a mad woman. She's more excited about my birthday than anyone. Really, this party is more for her than for me.

I sigh. I never did get the point of this. It’s not like the wishes ever come true. So it surprises me when I hesitate. I was just going to wish for this day to hurry up and end already. But then what will happen tonight?

Instead, I wish for the owner of that voice to show himself already, and then blow out the candles.

It feels like I'm about to get married when I’m handed a large knife. I cut the first piece but give it to Amy. Screw what’s expected of me, I hate cake. It’s deceiving, sitting there looking all seductive with all that frosting, yet tastes like crap—at least to me it does.

She pouts at me for a minute but she knows that I’m not really one for sweets so she lets it go and tales the small plate with a smile. I can hear the music blasting in the background and can only imagine how much all this cost and wonder how Amy managed to pull it off.

Everyone who wanted cake are now eating and laughing with their friends, the others are getting drunk or dancing like monkeys.

Fun.

I merely sit back on the white wooden picnic table and sigh. I can't get that boy out of my mind, or this strange desire to see him again. I scan the sea of people over and over again but I can't find him. Finally, giving up, I get up from my spot and decide to search for Amy. I find her talking to some people who I can’t place and walk up to her.

“Hey, I'm going to go for a walk, okay?” I tug on her wrist, bringing her focus to me.

“You’re leaving?”

“I won't be long. It's just that the music is giving me a headache. I'll be back before you even have time to notice that I'm really gone. You won't even have time to miss me.”

Nibbling on her bottom lip she nods and asks, “You'll hurry back?”

Aww, she's so cute when she pouts. Her bottom lip sticks out and I feel myself turn to mush and simply nod. Seriously, this girl has me wrapped around her finger at times, especially when her big, chocolate eyes glisten over—ah, the power of the puppy eyes.

She squeals before jumping to me and hugging me tightly. Honestly, what does this girl have against breathing?!

“Hurry back! I'll dance with you!” she blows me a kiss as I turn and walk off.

“’Kay.”

The moon is out and the sand is comfortably cool. I can hear the soothing sound of the waves in the distance but my mind is elsewhere. My thoughts are once again pondering over what will happen tonight. Hmm, I wonder what will happen if I don't go to bed but rather stay awake and wait for him. But I already know that won't work.

I had tried to wait up before, but the second I heard his voice my eyes would always close and I'd drift off into a peaceful sleep.

Then there’s the fact that I’m already tired as hell.

I yelp—suddenly taken out of my thoughts—when I feel hands grasp my upper arms from behind. The grip is tight and firm. Warm breath tickles my ear, making me shiver.

This isn't Amy.

She’s never gripped me this tightly before, to where I feel like I might have bruises later.

“Why are you alone on your birthday? Don't you like the party?” A silky smooth voice whispers in my ear. I'm drawn to the voice instantly and almost find myself leaning back into my captor’s arms, but I manage to keep myself standing straight and still.

I know this voice.

Gasping when he suddenly starts to nibble on my earlobe, I try to turn around to face him, but his grip only tightens, making me wince. Eventually he sets his chin on my shoulder and kisses my neck softly. It takes everything I have not to shudder from the soft touch, but I can feel myself slowly losing control over my body.

I have no idea who this man is. But I feel . . . safe. Secure. I'm not afraid of him at all, despite the fact that that beautiful angelic voice is the same as the man who whispers me a happy birthday every year.

“The party?” he asks again, his breath fanning my neck now, and this time I can’t suppress the shiver. “I thought it looked like fun, and Amy worked so hard, just for you too.”

Whoa, wait.

Does he know Amy? But she didn't recognize him when she looked at him in the picture in class. Maybe she didn't get a good enough look? I don't understand but my mind is too clouded to answer him, or to really think properly at all. I'm too busy being engulfed by his warmth and scent. He's not wearing cologne and I can't recognize the scent, but I love it. I finally allow myself to lean back against him absently and breathe out, finally relaxing.

I feel him kiss my cheek, his lips trailing down to the corner of my lips. My heart flutters excitedly. I want so badly to turn my head and kiss him. Run my hands through his hair and keep him here with me.

But why do I want that? Why am I letting a complete stranger touch me at all? For all I know, he can be a murderer or a rapist or something. But even with all those possibilities in mind I can't find it in me to really care.

There's a tugging feeling from inside of me. My heart? I don't know but it's taking over my mind. I can no longer focus on reason, or my promise to not be gone long. Amy will be upset but I know she'll forgive me, she always forgives me.

He kisses his way back to my ear and presses his mouth against it. “Just a few more hours,” he whispers and then wraps his arms around my waist, holding me firmly to him.

“A few . . . more hours?” I manage to gasp out, embarrassed to find just how out of breath I am.

He begins nibbling on my earlobe again. “Mm hmm.”

“What will happen in an hour?”

Letting go of my earlobe, he kisses the sensitive skin behind my ear. “You'll see.”

He kisses me just about everywhere, yet being very careful not to touch my lips with his.

Is it the lip gloss?

Suddenly he turns me around in his arms and hugs me tightly to him, making me squeak from the sudden movement, but he pays this no mind. My heart's thumping erratically in my chest and I'm sure he can feel it, what with our bodies squished together.

“I've been waiting so long for this. It's . . . strangely satisfying, just being able to hold you like this. I like it,” he whispers into my hair. “I miss this . . . I've missed you. You kept me waiting a long time.”

What?

I shift in his arms but his grip only tighten, refusing to let me go or to allow space between us. I can practically feel his possessive aura surrounding me. Like he wants to possess me, own me in every way and form.

It should terrify me.

“I think you have the wrong person,” I finally mumble against his hard chest, finding my voice again.

“No, I don't. I know I don't.”

“I don't understand.”

“I know you don't.”

I sigh against him and he begins playing with strands of my pale blonde hair, his other hand rubbing against my back, soothing me. It works and I find myself really enjoying it.

My annoyance and irritation is soon forgotten and replaced with other emotions. They swirl inside me and fill me completely and I can feel something inside of me changing.

I gasp when he roughly grabs the back of my head, fingering gripping my hair, and forces me to look up at him. My big icy blue eyes lock with his and I'm caught, unable to look away.

He let’s go of my head and lightly traces his fingertips from my temple down to my jaw. My hands are shaking slightly, wondering where that reaction came from. First he grabs my hair like a caveman and now his touch is as light as a feather.

“I can barely wait until tonight. . .” His voice is low and strained with want.

My cheeks burn when he grins at me. Before I even know what I'm doing, I close my eyes and lean closer to him. I can feel his warm breath on my face. My lips search for his. I want to kiss him; I want to feel his lips move against mine. But before I have the chance he places his thumb on my lips and gently pushes me back so our skin is barely touching. I miss the warmth of his body already.

“Patience, love,” he smiles. He seems so comfortable being with me and for some odd reason, I feel comfortable around him too, more comfortable than I was at the party anyway. But his eyes are flaring with excitement. I wonder if mine are too.

“Why? Why were you waiting for me? How could you have been waiting for me?”

He shakes his head. “All in good time, love.”

I look down, contemplating that and then look back up at him. “What's your name? My name is—”

“Erin Irvine,” his voice is full with fondness of my name. “Yes, I know.”

“You . . . know?” I raise an eyebrow. “How do you know?” Oh shit, is he like, a stalker or something? Of course, I knew he was too good to be true. Even so, I still can't find it in me to be afraid of him. It’s starting to frustrate me.

“I told you, I've been waiting for a long time for this.”

“What's your name?” I ask again.

“Ace.”

“Ace . . .”

He kisses me on my cheek one last time and smiles. His face looks torn as he whispers in my ear, “Go back. Enjoy the party. Laugh with your friends. Tonight, when you are officially seventeen . . . you will dream of me.”

Dream of him?

Letting me go completely he gives me a slight shove in the direction of the party. I stumble forward before catching myself and looking back at him, but he's already gone. I search the area around me but all I can see is sand, rocks, and the ocean.

With a frown of disappointment, I do as told and walk back to my party. The feeling of being completely full is disappearing and I'm feeling rather empty.

Has it always been this way? Have I always been this way, an empty shell of human flesh? I've never noticed the emptiness before tonight. But after feeling so full only to have that feeling taken or removed, it makes the emptiness painfully noticeable.

He said I would dream of him tonight, said it as if it were a statement. As if he knows. I begin feeling anxious again. When I officially turn seventeen, at 11:42pm, it's the time I was born and the time he always comes.

-

-

When I got back to the party Amy, as promised, danced with me. It had been a slow dance, which got a lot of the guys’ attention, the perverts. She also had me open up a lot of presents from a bunch of strangers. And now, now she’s taking me home.

“Amy, you really went a little overboard with all this,” I complain as we walk to her car.

“Nonsense! Our graduation party will be just as kick ass!” she shouts. Oh great, I bet she already has the whole thing all planned out in her head too. Well, at least I won't be the reason for the party and the anxiety won't be there.

We get in her car and she pulls out of the parking lot after helping me put all of my stuff in the back. I got a lot of things, from body lotion to a bracelet. Amy had gotten me a necklace with my birthstone on it, it's really pretty and I’m wearing it now. The chain is white gold and the green gem is glimmering beautifully, though it kind of reminds me of Ace’s eyes.

During the drive we talk about little things that really aren’t important.

When she stops at the curb in front of my house I thank her with a smile and lean forward to press a sloppy kiss on her cheek, pulling away with a loud ‘smack’. She giggles and waves me away, telling me that she’ll help me bring in my presents tomorrow.

“I’ll pick you up for school tomorrow, since you’re car’s still there.”

“I just hope no one steals it.” Yeah, there are losers who actually still do that kind of shit.

I have to admit that when I walk in the house and see that my parents are still out, I feel pretty relieved. I walk up the stairs lazily and by the time I enter my room, I'm dragging my feet across the carpet.

This is not good. I had promised myself earlier that I would not sleep, that I would wait for the man with the beautiful voice to appear, though I'm already on the verge of passing out.

I quickly throw on a black spaghetti strap shirt and black pajama pants. I then slip into bed after shutting off the lights and wait. It won't take long for him to come.

I force my eyes to stay open and wait for him. Is it really Ace? Why do I feel so drawn to him? Like some sort of strong magnetic force is pulling me closer and closer to him, year by year.

I glance over at the clock.

Just a few more seconds . . .

Just as that thought passes I feel a cool breeze come from nowhere. My window is closed yet it feels as if it's open, letting the night air in. I shiver under my covers but I can't move my body. I can hear soft footsteps coming towards me and taking a deep breath, I look over to see him.

It is Ace.

This is the first time I’ve actually looked at his face. All the other times my eyes were usually closed, I was never able to open them.

But tonight is different.

Ace stares into my eyes for a few short seconds before kneeling down in front of my bed, right beside my head.

I freeze.

He touches my cheek with his hand and moves forward so his elbows are on the bed, his face mere inches away from mine. I can feel—taste his breath. It's so addicting. He kisses me in all the places he had kissed me before. My forehead, temple, cheek, all the way down to the corner of my mouth, then he stops, much to my displeasure.

“Finally . . .” he whispers, “you're mine.”

My eyes close when his lips finally touch mine. He kisses me very gently at first, a simple brushing of lips. I don't respond, or more like I can't respond because of my frozen state. But I find myself wanting to. The feeling of wanting to run my hands through his hair and keep him to me comes flooding back.

As he kisses me I can once again feel the emptiness in my chest fill me up completely. It feels like my heart is expanding, stuffing itself with him.

Ace’s kiss suddenly turns hard, hungry. His tongue begins tracing my bottom lip and I can't stop the soft moan that escapes through lips. The second my lips part Ace’s tongue slips inside my mouth and runs along mine. I can feel his tongue rubbing against the roof of my mouth, exploring every part before nipping at the tip of my tongue.

I try to respond, but can't move. Eventually he stops nipping and sucks my tongue into his mouth. Oh . . . that feels nice . . . my lungs are screaming in protest at the lack of oxygen but I don’t want this to stop yet. I’ve never been kissed like this before—hell I’ve never been kissed period.

My heart aches, but in a good way, as it pounds against my chest. His lips devour mine, I feel the bed shift next to me and his hand moves to my stomach.

His lips barely part from mine when he stops kissing me. I slowly open my eyes to see that he's laying next to me on my bed. He wraps his left arm securely around my waist, like he did at the party and his free hand strokes my cheek.

My eyes suddenly feel very heavy and begin to slide shut. I feel so comfortable right now, more than I've ever been before. This is bliss . . . something that I never want to end.

“Sleep well, my love.” I hear him whisper in my ear. It's as if his voice is like a lullaby that's meant to put me to sleep. Or a spell that makes this the most peaceful sleep I have ever experienced.

And just like he said, I dream of him. Of a life and world that's completely foreign yet familiar to me. I feel drawn to this world almost as much as I'm drawn to him, yet at the same time I feel so severed from the world. Like there's a string attaching me to it, but someone cut it, leaving me to fall flat on my ass in a place that's completely different.

Even as my room and everything else around me fades I can still hear Ace’s voice whispering in my ear.

Happy birthday . . .