Angel Eyed (DISCONTINUED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE)

twenty nine

There was this ringing in my ears, the nauseating soundwaves sending pulses of pain across the entirety of my head. It was icy cold, goosebumps rising from my skin as my senses come back to reality, darkness encompassing my vision. My entire body ached in excruciating pain; laying on a frigid surface and my face pressing against what seemed to be ice. My thoughts were in tangled circles, my jaw feeling like someone was repeatedly stabbing it. Was I dead? I didn't know. But if this is what it would feel like, it's still better than everything that happened to me. Speaking of which, I couldn't remember what happened to me. Hell, I could barely process where I was.

Something was shaking my elbow, a faint beam of light cutting through the darkness ahead of me. "Cassandra?" someone calls softly, followed by light tapping on my cheek, "Cassandra, c'mon wake up."

I could only moan back, words incapacitated by the pain consuming my jaw.

"Cassandra." it calls again, this time clearer as the ringing stopped in my ears.

I opened my eyes, greeted by a line of piercing bright lights on a white ceiling, my eyelids squinting in reflex. My pupils took their time to adjust before finally growing comfortable of the sudden brightness, scanning the unfamiliar surroundings. Everything was white. The walls, the doors. Only then did I realize I was laying on some kind of a floor, my permanently blurry vision struggling to see the things further away. I didn't know if it was because of the throbbing in my skull or some other thing, but I stopped there, tilting my head to the side to give myself a break.

I gasped, the sight of a familiar young man crouching down next to me shining a flashlight over my face, making my heart jump out of my chest. "Jesus fuck!" I wheezed. It was Chester.

He turns the flashlight off, shoving it back into his pocket. "Sorry." He mumurs, "Are you feeling better?"

Was I feeling better? "No." I moaned, placing a hand over my forehead and rubbing it. "I feel like utter shit. What happened?"

"Well . ." He drags on, "You just fell four storys from your house and landed face first on tiles."

My face curves into a wince from his vivid description, chills running down my spine as I imagined the impact. Normally when someone falls that high, they break a couple of bones, and maybe even suffer from severe concussions.

"You're lucky you didn't disfigure yourself."

"Lucky." I rolled my eyes, my fist clenching from the word. I wanted to punch something. Just something until my knuckles bleed. I didn't know why, but I do. And then, like some kind of spontaneous combustion in my brain, everything came back to me, filling the gaping void. The wish, Bill kissing me, and me hurting Harry because I didn't know better. I was drowning in memories, the ringing returning to my ears and punching through the walls of my skull. Suddenly, falling four storys didn't sound that bad, and a part of me is disappointed it didn't take my life. If Stella is so desperate to take my soul, why doesn't she just do it now? Why do I have to go through hurting my friends and hurting myself repeatedly?

"What the fuck are you wearing?" I questioned, my voice cracking as I point out Chester's odd attire. Even he was wearing all white. White pants, a loose white shirt, white shoes, his brown hair fixed into a clean cut quiff. It was peculiar, but then again, the only things I've seen him in are jeans and t-shirts.

"I think it's best if I help you up first before we talk about what I'm wearing." He suggests, tucking his hand on my back and firmly grasping my arms. He pushed me up so I was sitting, an extensive hallway ahead of us as my vision began to spin. I hold onto him for dear life, my fingertips sinking into his skin as the pain in my jaw resurfaces and crawls up the entirety of my face. I bite back my tongue, making attempts of getting onto my own feet as he finally got up his. My limbs were numb of any sensation like they have been cut off so it was a bit difficult to regain control, nevertheless, eventually I found my balance again and let Chester go, limply standing on my own feet as the weight of my bag rest itself on my back.