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

Chapter XIII

After school, Gabby volunteered to drive me home, so I agreed. When I get home, I jog towards our house and up the porch, unlocking the door with my spare key, greeted by my sister and parent's voice echoing through the house. They sounded like they were in the living room or family room. I kicked my shoes off and walked to the family room, but they weren't there.

As I approach the living room, I hear Clarice talking about the angel statue with mom and dad, which catches my attention. I lean against the wall to prevent them from seeing me and carefully listen to what they're talking about.

Clarice told mom and dad about my choking dream from last night, and the shock and worry in mom and dad's voice were crystal clear. My heart squeezes with longing when mom demands to know more about my nightmare, her trembling voice filled with concern and fear, which were rare emotions she felt towards me.

Am I imagining this?

Clarice immediately blames the angel statue for my nightmare, and suddenly everyone is quiet. I peer from behind the wall to get a better glimpse of the situation, and I see mom and dad exchanging knowing glances with each other, and that was a red flag. Clarice shook her head in disappointment, "You don't believe me, do you? Even after I told you about the fucking choke mark that suddenly disappeared?"

Mom protests, saying Clarice and I need psychological help, and I almost resisted the urge to scoff out loud.

"How do you know it's not your imagination, Clarice? We went over this." Dad sighs frustratingly. I quickly lean back against the wall before they could see me and continue to overhear their conversation.

Clarice goes to explain what we witnessed on the first weekend ever since mom bought the angel statue with every bit of detail, desperately trying to get mom and dad to believe her. Clarice also mentions how she tried to get rid of the statue earlier this morning before she dropped me off to school, but when she got back just an hour ago, it was back in the living room.

Huh? Was she even going to tell me this?

"You're saying the statue is moving around on its own, almost like teleporting?" Mom bitterly says with incredulity.

"Do you honestly think me or Emma would even touch that filthy thing?" Clarice bites back, her tone sharp enough to cut through glass.

Dad agrees with Clarice on this and says that nobody dared to move the statue around; otherwise, mom would kill everyone. I could tell mom was sending dad one of her death glares where her eyes would throw daggers at dad.

Mom takes a deep breath and asks Clarice what she was trying to prove. Clarice's next words send my mind into overdrive. "Mom, Dad, I think the angel statue is trying to kill Emma."

I feel my heart drop.

"What?" Mom and dad voice my thoughts, shock laid in their voice as we try to process Clarice's words.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Mom says with fear, almost as if she believed Clarice's words entirely.

Something warm fills my heart, but I shake it off when Clarice explains why she thinks I'm about to get killed. She says she has been trying to figure out what the statue was hiding and what was making it act this way, and she found out the statue is trying to kill me. When dad asks how that was possible, Clarice mentions how she connected the dots from the events that occurred with the statue.

She has a point. The night we heard strange sounds coming from downstairs and went down to see what it was, the angel statue was staring right at me. Then, in my nightmare, it was choking me, trying to kill me.

But how was that enough proof to say that it wants to kill me out of all people? Mom saw the statue first; she was the one attracted to it.

Mom, who was beginning to believe Clarice's words, now says, "That's the most ridiculous thing I've heard, Clarice." What the hell is happening?

Clarice chooses to ignore mom's statement and suggests that they shouldn't tell me they had this conversation. They especially shouldn't tell me about Clarice's hypothesis about the statue wanting to kill me. Dad began to worry about my safety while mom was still having trouble believing everything. Clarice begs mom and dad to believe her, to help her somehow, but mom refuses to before dad could even say anything.

"We can't! It's not real! Emma is not being attacked by a non-living object! She needs professional help because she's crazy for wanting to get rid of the statue! I can't believe you. I don't want to, Clarice." Mom says, her voice cracking at the end, laid with a deeper, hidden meaning that I couldn't quite understand.

"But mom-"

"Emma is fine. I know I don't get along with her, but she's strong enough to take care of herself and keep herself away from nonsense like this." Mom asserts, creating no room for argument.

My heart swells with pride. Does she really think of me like that? Not once has she complimented me, at least not to my face.

I wanted to believe her words and the sincerity behind it, but it was hard. A small part of me hangs onto the loose thread of hope that she still has some sort of feelings for me, but the rest of me can't think straight.

Clarice was growing angrier by the second and tried to protest, but dad beat her to it. "Stop it, Clarice! Listen to your mom for once! We've had enough of this, and you are forbidden to speak about this again, do you hear me?"

"Fine," Clarice mutters, the anger in her not dissipating away. I try to peer at the scene again and notice dad grabbing mom's hand and leading her outside into our backyard. Clarice groans loudly in frustration and stomps her way out the door, and I hide behind a bookshelf, making sure she doesn't notice me. Once the coast was clear, I ran up the stairs and into my room to process everything that just happened.

I was beyond stunned at this point. I lean against my door and close my eyes, my mind racing with a million questions, my heart beating erratically against my chest in fear.

Was it true? Did the angel statue want to kill me? I mean, there are many things wrong with it, and there's absolutely no explanation for the hand-print around my neck and its disappearance, but how can we say the statue wants to kill me? Suppose it does want to attack me, there are many other people it could choose to kill, but it picked me out of all. Why?

I groan and plop down on my bed, burying my face in my hands. This was so messed up, I didn't even know what to think. Suddenly, my eyes widened in realization.

Mom told Clarice she didn't want to believe her, that she couldn't because it "wasn't real," but then why did she sound like she was trying to convince herself? Why did mom sound like she was expecting something like this to happen when Clarice told her everything? She sounded like she desperately wanted to believe everything instantly, but she was holding back for some strange reason that I couldn't figure out.

The frustration built up inside of me, and I wanted to explode. I took a deep breath and counted to ten, but when that didn't help, I slammed my fists against my bed, irritated by not knowing what to do. I need to talk to someone, I need to vent this out or else it'll eat me alive.

I pull out my phone from my hoodie pocket and dial Mason's number, but I change my mind and decide to talk to Gabby instead. Mason wasn't going to tell me anything, and Gabby knew Mason since they were kids, so she would know what to do.