My Delinquent Angel

Chapter One

Chapter One

Bad things shouldn’t happen to good people but God works beyond the borders of mundane rules. You see bad things happen to good people everyday. Sometimes it’s smaller things like rape or assault, and sometimes it’s bigger things like war and mass genocide. You see those things on the news and you glance across the room at your family, praying that nothing like that would happen to you or your loved ones.

I was only eight years old when my parents were murdered.

In the movies, when a thief breaks into an unsuspecting house, they are usually unarmed, unprepared for anyone to wake up or to already be awake. But that wasn’t the case with our house. My dad had always suffered from a mild case of insomnia ever since he could remember and so he usually didn’t fall asleep until the early hours of the morning if at all. My mom always stayed up with him; they were cute like that.

They weren’t supposed to be awake and that thief wasn’t supposed to have knife.

Both of my parents were stabbed, multiple times, and that’s how I found them at seven o’clock in the morning the next day.

Dead on the kitchen floor.

They say you remember moments like this in your life; happy memories, sad memories, memories that trigger extreme emotions. You’re supposed to remember them like they’d only happened yesterday. But I forgot within a few years, all I ever remembered was the flash of the emergency vehicles. Red and blue. Red and blue. Red and blue. The two colours which from that day forth I associated with death, loss and change.

It was also the day I gained myself a guardian angel.

*10 years later*

When I walked through the automatic doors the local shop wearing nothing but my pyjamas and a pair of Uggs, I was well aware of the frowns and tuts I was earning from the old ladies near the counter as well as the leers I got from a couple of college guys picking out beer. In just a pair of flannel PJ bottoms and a tank top, yeah, I was drawing plenty of attention, but in all honesty, I don’t think I’d ever care less. I was too busy trying to hide from my Aunt, Megan, and if that meant leaving the house at 10 o’clock at night to buy my brother some Twinkies, then that’s just what I’d do.

I tossed the packet down on the counter. “Just this.” I muttered, grabbing twenty dollars from my purse before noticing the friendly bottle of Jack Daniels on the shelf behind the cashier. “On second thought, I’ll take one of those too.”

The acne covered boy, he couldn’t have been more than sixteen, glanced over his shoulder before turning back to me, clearing his throat and swallowing uncomfortably.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to see some ID.”

I raised an eyebrow at him before tucking my purse, which held within it my drivers license which harshly stated I was far too young to be buying alcohol, back into my PJ pockets and folding my arms across my chest. I knew this movement was squeezing my breasts to make them look bigger. I’m no whore, but I know how to get what I want out of the opposite sex.

I cocked my head to one side and gave him a slow seductive smile. “Are you sure about that?” 

“Uh…” he nervously swallowed again and tried to look at my face but his eyes kept drifting down to my chest. Bingo. “Well I–”

“What seems to be the problem here?”

An older man in his early 20s stepped forward with his arms crossed over his broad chest and a smirk on his lips. He looked more like a bouncer than a sales manager. The boy snapped out of his trance and cleared his throat loudly, blinking a few times. I let my arms dropped to my sides and sighed dramatically.