Weeping Angel: Malvada (Book 1 of the Weeping Angel Series)

Chapter X

Dad pulls away from the hug a little too short for my liking and helps Clarice, and I stand up. He grows serious and begins to ask, "What were you two talking about with your mom about the statue? I mean, it's just a stone figure. What could it have possibly done to you?" Clarice looks at me, and I nod at her, giving her the go to tell our dad what we've been seeing and experiencing.

She sighs, "The statue has been moving around the house on its own for the past three weeks. We thought we were seeing things or that mom was doing that. Now, it's getting harder to not think of it as true."

Dad purses his lips into a straight line as he thinks about Clairce's words, a confused expression plastered on his face. I could tell he didn't believe us; he probably thinks we're insane, and there was no way to prove ourselves right. Besides, what are the chances we're actually seeing things and just overreacting or overthinking in general?

Clarice was getting irritated the longer dad stayed silent and observed us with curiosity. "Dad, what do you think?" Dad chooses his next words carefully. "I'm sorry, but this is hard to believe. Either you two have a wild imagination, or your mom is into haunted things. I'm sure it's not real, so don't worry about it, okay?" Clarice and I both nod in agreement, thinking dad's probably right.

"You can get rid of it if you want. I'll tell your mom I broke it and buy her something better." Dad hopefully suggests. I shake my head at him, clearly thinking of this as a bad idea. "I don't want to do anything to make mom mad. She'll know we got rid of it or broke it, and we'll end up arguing, so please, let's not do that."

Clarice and dad both nod and agree with me. Dad suggests that for now, we don't overthink it and just wash the dishes in the sink instead of rearranging the decorations and the statue. He decides to go upstairs to talk things out with mom, which usually doesn't end well, but he tries.

With that, dad walks out of the living room and marches up the stairs to console mom, leaving Clarice and me alone.

Every time they argue like that, the fear rises in my chest, thinking they'll grow immensely tired of each other and divorce.

Even though we were a broken family, we still lived under the same roof and tried to make things work for each other's sake. I didn't want to be separated from anyone, especially my mom.

I could take her harsh words if it meant hanging onto the loose thread of hope that we'll be a happy family at one point in our life.

***

I open my eyes to find myself lying in the middle of a grassy field, the hot, scorching sun burning against my skin as I take in my surroundings. There was nothing but green hills and valleys everywhere.

Where am I?

I slowly stand up and brush the dust off my... pyjama shorts? What am I doing in the middle of nowhere in my pyjamas? I look down and realize I was also bare feet, and I felt something tickle my toes. My heart sinks to my stomach; is that a bug?

I brush the hair off my face and start walking towards nothing in particular when I stop short in my tracks. Someone was either watching or following me, but I didn't hear or see anyone nearby.

The hair on my arms and neck rose, and I realized this feeling wasn't at all friendly. I began to run straight to flee myself from my stalker, but that was until my foot jerked violently/to the side, causing me to stumble and land hard on the ground.

My hands begin to tremble, and my head starts throbbing. I slowly stand up. Someone or something was definitely here, and it was anything but good. I'm not imagining this; I damn well know I'm not. The torturing fear churns in my stomach, knocking my trail of thought aside, and that's when I see it. It was the angel statue, and it slowly appeared out of the fog until it was entirely in my view. It stops in its tracks, and I notice its hands were on either side of its stone body. It looked bigger and taller than usual, about my height.