Arms of the Angel
Sarah looked down at her wrists, both bloody and torn, both pumping wave after wave of fresh blood. It mingled easily with the salty liquid dripping off her face. It didn't matter, really. No one would notice until she didn't show up for at least three days. Even then she couldn't be sure. But all Sarah cared about was the release this pain brought her. They'd sent her to hospitals before, to clinics, to professionals who were supposed to know what to do with her. Nothing helped. She'd stop for a little while, but then something her brother would say would push her again. And push, and push, until she nearly fell off, just barely holding onto the edge. They'd had to dope her up on so much drugs, people had begun to accuse her of being a druggie, on top of being over emotional.
In the background, Sarah McLachlan's voice rang out.
'I need some distraction or a beautiful release
Memories seep from my veins
Let me be empty and weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight'
That just added to her tears and her feelings. How did the great Sarah know exactly how she felt? Scary. She picked up the razor again, very lightly this time. Pressing it to her upper arm, she began carving the lyrics into her skin, a tattoo of the talented artist who Sarah shared her name with. If only she could have been like her. If only. She stopped, and let it skate very lightly over her bloody, but otherwise unmarked, wrist. She started a fresh line, adding to her pain and self-pity induced tears.
'So tired of the straight line, and everywhere you turn
There's vultures and thieves at your back
The storm keeps on twisting, you keep on building the lies
That you make up for all that you lack
It don't make no difference, escaping one last time
It's easier to believe
In this sweet madness, oh this glorious sadness
That brings me to my knees'
A new wave of euphoria washed over her as her arms numbed slowly. She knew, as her eyes began to droop and the colors of her room began to blur together, that she was near the end. The blood-stained carpet added to her belief, and the painstaking realization that she would never come back again. They said that when you die, your life flashes before your eyes. Sarah could testify that it was true, as her memories washed over her like the pain had done before.
Jonathan smirked down at his baby sister, his eyes bloodshot and unfocused. Sarah cowered below him, while their parents laughed at something on the television.
"You hear that, Sarah? They're not gonna save you. I'm your brother, you have to live with me. There's no escaping that. I'll know everything you do, we're twins remember? We must have some kind of a bond." He gave her a twisted smile, almost more of a grimace than anything. She cried silently, knowing he was right.
"Why're you doing this?"
"Because you're weak, and pathetic! And I hate you!" He yelled. How could they not hear him? Or was it that they didn't care. Probably just thought it was a sibling fight, due to rivalry for attention. Yeah, that must make them feel pretty important.
Hayden looked at Sarah, frowning.
"What do you want?" He asked, his eyes wandering to where his new girlfriend stood, a few feet away, just waiting for him. His eyes turned back to her as she started to talk.
"Well, uhm, I was just wondering, does this mean we're going out now?" Sarah asked, sounding hopeful. Hayden gave her a small smile.
"I always liked that about you, you always were funny. I'm with Wynona now, can't you see? Look, I had a fun time last night, and I hope you'll remember me as your first, but that's all. It was nice knowing you." And he walked away just like that, his arm instantly wrapping around Wynona's as he drew closer. Sarah watched him go, tears in her eyes. How, could he do that to her? Screw her and then just leave her like she didn't matter? She ran into the girl's bathroom, not paying attention to the class bell. She'd stayed there for the rest of the day.
"WHY CAN'T YOU JUST STAY OUT OF MY BUISNESS?!" Jonathan yelled at Sarah. She cowered behind her Algebra 1 book, keeping her head down. He walked over to her and flung her book out of her hands.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" He commanded. She did as he asked, and he slapped her. She toppled off of her seat with the force of the blow, tears striking in her eyes.
"All you do is cry! You're a good for nothing whore!" He shouted at the top of his lungs. She couldn't help but start crying, everything he said was true.
"See? SEE?! WHY CAN'T YOU GROW A BACKBONE?! DO YOU THINK I ENJOY THE GUYS SEEING WHAT A PUSH-OVER AND A WHORE YOU ARE?! YOU DISGUST ME! I WISH YOU WERE NEVER BORN!" He was nearly in hysterics now.
'Where are you mom, dad?' Sarah thought as Jonathan stormed out of the room.
'Why aren't you ever here to help me?' She stood up shakily to retrieve her book and set back down at the table with it, going back to her work. Her tears stained the pages.
Sarah reclined onto her back, her eyes scanning the ceiling. Something white lay ahead of her, and something warm enclosed itself around her hand, lifting her up. She tried to grip it, but her fingers were weak, unable to maintain a grip. A face swam into her view, masculine, with a small smile on his face.
"Who're you?" She asked. She'd never had a really strong faith in God, or Angels, but there could be no other name for the creature that held her hand.
"My name's Jake, but I'm your mentor now. C'mon, let's get you fixed up and ready."
"For what?" Sarah asked, rather confused. Jake smiled and helped her stand up. She looked down and saw her dead body lying below her.
"The life after. You can't very well go trooping around wearing bloodstained clothes, now can you? Let's go."
'In the arms of the Angel far away from here
From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie
In the arms of the Angel; may you find some comfort here
You're in the arms of the Angel; may you find some comfort here'