Chapter 1
And as such it started…

I probably should’ve listened to my mother and not go out in the rain. But now I can say I wasn’t in my normal mental state, for as cautious as I used to be I still went out in the middle of the night during a furious downpour and drove dad’s old truck along those mudded paths.

I was crying as well, the curtain of tears made it harder to see, and it was already hard. The thunder startled me sometimes, but they shook me not more than the sobs that racked though me. Why was I behaving so childishly? It was as though I couldn’t keep myself in check like I used to. I was hurt, and I could hardly believe my sister would do something like that to me, for more unintentional as it was.

Still, I couldn’t say no when she called me that night, asking me to go pick her up at the Rowen’s. We lived in a rural area, and walking from their home to ours was exhausting. I dared not to imagine my sweet sister walking down in the rain.

My hands gripped hard on the steering wheel, my knuckles probably turned white. But I couldn’t see well; it took all my efforts to maintain my eyes opened.

She was with him…

Suddenly a light streak blinded me, my senses went to overdrive, I could hear my frantic breathing, the hard thumps of my heart inside my chest. Once I focused again on the road there was a truck coming my way. With a scream I manoeuvred to a side, but the road, made of black sand, was slippery, almost like the soil was mixed with soap, thus the brakes didn’t work. My dad’s truck slipped until it crashed against a tree, the impact broke it, and I remember the terrifying sight of the truck sliding down the hillside…

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It was the end of summer, the year was 1965. Back in the day society wasn’t all too resilient about women, things were touchy in basically every aspect –political and religious, mainly-, and in the small town I was born and lived through my life people were even more old fashioned. They didn’t know about the cultural revolutions that were occurring in America, nor did they really know about the changes in London or the rest of Europe. Things were just not well, we were poor; we didn’t have the financial ability to become globalized. Instead, we were born and bred into a rural society, where males dominated women, where males worked on the fields to provide the families with money for their maintenance, and where women were at home taking care of the house and the many kids they used to have.

Fortunately for us, mum had only two kids. Twin girls; she told us when we were old enough to understand that there had been some complications during the labour which let us be born, and something down there was permanently damaged. She became sterile after that. And so, my family was small, my father, my mother, my sister, Lorellin Arien and I, Narya Aerin, along with the adjacent myriad of cousins and uncles and aunts that you find in rural families.

Being the eldest born had its advantages, though. Usually the first born was given more responsibilities, but also more freedom. But since we were two girls our father couldn’t give the primogenital kid the job of helping him with the crop, or fixing up the old barn behind the field, or looking out for property invaders with a big gun, or the likes. We sometimes helped on the fields, but mostly we kept to house chores. Our cousins gladly offered their big manly arms for the heavier duties, just because they weren’t all that bright on the brains area and were into the country work. In fact, I don’t think any of them went to school. So anyways, my father decided that the oldest child would learn to drive and help with the crop’s supplies, run errands, that sort of work, but it would also mean free access to whenever she wanted, as long as she remained inside the county.

Alas, I wasn’t the oldest kid. I was the second. For almost ten minutes. So I was considered unprepared to face the challenge of driving the truck and grabbing the bull by the balls, that is, be the future possessor of most of the Vaughan’s heritage. Until Lorellin Arien crashed the truck… Then it was decided I could give it a run test, and what have you, it was a match made in heaven, that truck and I.

Just picture it, I felt powerful and free beyond it was healthy. I even got this complex of, well, people call them tomboys now. I wore pants! Do you know how rebellious that was, back then? I punched Freddy Wallace in the face the first year of our second high school year because he said I liked girls seeing as I dressed like boys.

The next school year was a turning-point in my at the moment short life. The year before Lorellin Arien and I had met this fantastic boy that made my un-skirted knees shake. He was the most beautiful boy we had ever seen, with cerulean blue eyes and a hair blacker than the soil we walked on. He was so charming as well, even if he was a tad reserved, considering he was a country boy, too, most of whom were loud, callous and conceited. But he had this air of nobility, which wasn’t given only by his features, but also by his poise; and he wanted to become a soldier, which made me think he was strong and manly, even if he hadn’t fully developed physically.

His name was Evangelos Rowen. But people called him Evan. He was my first crush.

But as luck would have it, so he was my sister’s.

“Narya?” She asked me on the way to school, the first day back after 1965’s summer. I was driving the truck, and she sat beside me, twiddling her hands like she did when she was nervous.

“What?” I rolled my eyes towards her for a second, then turning them back to the road. I remember the day was fairly clouded, considering the season, but the pure breeze felt heavenly against my face, it made me feel content and my lungs vibrate in happiness.

I felt more than saw her wriggle in her spot, and I, knowing my twin sister better than I knew myself, braced myself for whatever was to come. Judging by the signs I knew it was going to be big. “Do you remember Evan Rowen? We met him last year, I think at Mr. Ferguson’s Mathematics class.”

A shepherd decided it would be a fine idea to cross the road then, with his herd of ship in tow. I braked the truck and looked at my lap, feeling an odd pang in the middle of my chest by knowing already where Lorellin Arien was going. “What about him?” Maybe I asked none too nicely, because my sister gasped shortly.

“Umm,”

My eyes, dark green, moss green, fixed behind my thick, black framed spectacles at her. I was the one wanting to squirm then; I knew she was going to tell me she liked him, I’d seen the way she stared at him, and she was going to ask me if I was okay with it. Should I have told her I liked him as well? Or should I simply have let her have him? My right hand released my pants, where I didn’t know I had curled a fist on, and scratched my nape.

Lorellin Arien is my sister, and sister love goes first, a voice in my head said. I took a deep intake of breath and started the engine again, after the last ship had safely crossed the muddy road.

“H-He asked me out on Patrick’s birthday party, and I-I…” She was glancing down at her lap, biting her pink lower lip, and I felt a tad sympathetic. She feared me, because out of the two Vaughan sisters I was the ill tempered one, the short fused one, the bad mouthed one, the violent one.

“It’s okay,” I remember the distinct sound of my voice that day, it was my angry I’m-trying-not-to-kill-someone tone, but I shot her a softer look, to which she smiled. “But if he hurts you he’s dead man.”

We almost crashed after that, because she jumped at me hugging me until a rib or two broke, piercing my lung and banning me from receiving oxygen. And since my brain wasn’t getting any oxygen it stopped functioning for a short while and so I lost control of the truck. We made it in two twin pieces to school that morning.

It was later that week, on September the third, barely days before our birthday, that Evan and Lorellin Arien had their first date. I remember sitting at home, on my bed, staring as my beautiful sister got ready for her big date with the most chivalrous bloke in the entire town. I admit I envied her; no, I was withering inside with envy. She was curvy and full, her face was smooth and feminine, and while she complained that her eyes weren’t of an interesting colour, being amber hued, they were wide and bright with perfect vision. What took her the most time to fix was her hair. It was fashionable to have gentle but big waves framing the lady’s face, and she had cut it short to resemble a more mature, worldlier city woman, instead of a small town –almost village- girl.

I’ll never forget her excitement as she narrated the way he had so handsomely asked her out, and how that morning he had gone to our field to ask for dad’s permission. However, I wasn’t paying attention, entirely. I was looking down at myself in shame, wearing pants and glasses, with long limp dark hair that was always up in a pony tail. I wanted to cry, I wanted to run and curl up like a ball in the barn, where I knew no one would hear me sob until my throat became dry.

Why didn’t he ask me out? It was because I was ugly and nearly blind, and because I looked like a boy with no shapes of my own and a face attacked by acne.

My sister… She was a woman at almost the age of eighteen. I was like a little boy.

Our parents were excited about the date, they let Evan in the house and offered him some tea while they talked, asking for his intentions towards Lorellin Arien. It was best if I didn’t go down, I thought, my presence would turn the atmosphere awkward. So I locked myself in our room, not knowing what to do with my life from that night on.

What would I do whenever I saw my sister and Evan together, walking down the hall at school, having fun, doing things couples do? It hurt to think about it. Sitting next to the window, staring out at the cloudy nights, trying to count the stars I could see, was when my tears started to spill over. Soon sobs followed, and I bit a finger to stop myself from whimpering until I drew blood. The coppery taste in my mouth almost drove me into hysterics, instead. Who knew love could hurt that way? Because at that point I believed I was in love with the boy, or at least with the idea of being with him.

Water drops started hitting my blotchy face; I hadn’t noticed it had started raining. Fleetingly I hoped they were somewhere safe and guarded against the harsh weather.

Mother knocked on the door and said I had a phone call. At the time I didn’t think it was odd that mum didn’t notice, because on the phone was my sister, asking me to go pick her up at the Rowen’s.

“Why? Can’t Evan bring you home?” I sniffed.

“Narya, were you crying?”

A cringe. “No, I fell asleep by the window and caught a cold, I think.” I swallowed thickly, and prayed to God she believed me. I didn’t want to ruin her happiness, I wasn’t that selfish. “Just answer my question.”

“Oh,” There was an exchange of words with someone on the other end of the line before she spoke again. “Evan’s dad’s truck is broke, and I don’t think dad would like it if I spent the night here. Please, please, I’ll vacuum the house this Saturday for you, please? I don’t want dad to think Evan is a bad boyfriend for not bringing me home, please?”

“Boyfriend already?” Surprised I found myself asking, and the silence from the other end of the line boomed inside my head as hard as the thunder from the sky did.

“Please, Narya…” I hated her pitiful tone; did she really think I’d leave her stranded there?

“Fine, I’m coming.” Lorellin Arien squealed, and my throat grunted on its own accord.

“Thank you!” After that we hung up, I grabbed a raincoat and walked downstairs. Dad wasn’t around, so I easily walked to the front door until my mother stopped me. I don’t remember that discussion well, only that I told her about what Lorellin Arien said and that I was going to pick her up. Mum tried to stop me, she said dad could go for her, or we could wait until the storm at least became lighter, but something pushed me forwards. I remember being rude to my mother, in all the despair I was going through inside. I remember leaving her behind me with a hurt expression on her lovely face.

The truck didn’t seem to want to cooperate with me, the rain had seeped into it and it was hard to ignite it. After half an hour of trying it revved, and I drove down the road towards the Rowen’s, thinking about how quickly they had become a couple, and how quickly I had started liking that boy, too.

I even thought that if he didn’t like me no other boy later would, after all, none of them seemed to get past my sister’s stunning looks to see me standing behind her in dirty and wrinkled boy clothes.

No boy would ever like me. I wasn’t worth it. An unnatural sense of anguish washed over me, and I wasn’t able to discern the rapidly approaching truck from the front. Lightning was my downfall, I now think.

And the night of September the third, of 1965, yep, you guessed it. I died.

AG says: Everybody welcome to this universe, and this, the prologue to this story. This is a sister story to Kanilla’s Hellbound, instead centred on the angels. I’m really excited about it (hopefully it won’t be associated to my other angels story; it’s entirely different); I apologize in advance to anyone who happens to know Latin, because I’m pretty much gonna butcher the language in this story, although I’d be most happy to accept help on this department. I sincerely hope you guys like it. And so drop a review!

Armith-Greenleaf