Hell's Angel (EDITING)

29 - Marie | Summoned by heaven

'Angel Marienne,' Headmistress boomed as I lay sprawled on the floor of Angel Headquarters, 'What have you done?'

I groaned, slowly shifting myself to a seated position. I had been beamed up to heaven as soon as I left Andrew's house, and my head still thrummed.

'I saved him, Headmistress,' I moaned, clutching at my heated face.

'By ingesting a full tray of baked marijuana?' Headmistress demanded, her voice raising by an octave. It did sound rather bad when she put it like that.

'I couldn't let him eat it himself,' I hiccuped.

'Were you really incapable of disposing of it another way?' she inquired, 'You can imagine how shocked I was when I got a ping for mild drug usage, and it turned out to be from an Angel!'

I glanced up at the countless bright screens that lit up the observation hall. Each one showed all the good and bad deeds being performed on earth, in varying levels of strength. Groups of volunteer angels gathered at each screen, noting down the loudest pings. It was only the humans-turned-angels who volunteered for this job, and they were viewed in the highest regard. However, Headmistress still constantly threatened me that I would be the very first born-angel to be relegated to a desk job.

'Frankly I have no idea what to do with you; this has never before occurred in angel's history,' she continued, 'It's an utter disgrace!'

'I'm sorry, Headmistress.' I bowed my head in shame. 'I really did do all I could to save him. And, I believe I tripped badly enough that my human has gone off the idea of ever experimenting with minor drugs.'

'Hm.' I glanced up to see Headmistress trying to suppress a hint of a smile. 'Your methods are certainly... unorthodox, Angel Marienne, but you do provide results.' She clicked a button on her remote control and the image on one of the screens shifted to a video playback of Andrew. He was scrubbing his kitchen clean and vehemently swearing to himself to never again try anything of the sort.

I beamed, basking in my success before Headmistress turned her glare back on me. 'Your approach is not approved, Angel,' she warned, 'Consider this a verbal warning. The next time you come across such a situation, you must fully consider all the available options.' She sighed. 'I fear you act too rashly.'

'I'll try to think things through in the future, Headmistress,' I promised.

'You are excused this time, Angel Marienne.' She handed me a beautifully carved object. 'Take this cross with you to guide you in your decisions. May it always point you in the right direction.'

I gratefully accepted the ornate object. 'Thank you, Headmistress. I'll cherish it always.'

I took my leave and decided to stop by the research facility before I left. It was around the time when Georgie usually visited.

The scent of knowledge hit my nostrils like a wave of boredom the moment I entered through the ornately carved wooden doors. Some angel must have been pouring over books on something horrible like economics. I glanced around for a flash of scarlet and it took me a while to find it, hidden behind a large stack of files.

Georgie's head was flat on the table and she had fallen fast asleep. Piles and piles of human files teetered precariously around her, threatening to collapse over her tiny frame.

I sat in the chair beside her and dragged her head off the dangerous surface, settling it instead on my thighs. Georgie groaned at the disturbance but soon made herself comfortable on the much softer resting place.

I wove my fingers in the silky, red hair that spilled over my bare skin. The smell of crushed raspberries was intoxicating. I stopped the urge to lean in closer and instead studied her face, gently stroking back the hair that obscured it.

Georgie looked even more tired than the last time I saw her. Her face was pale enough to be nearly transparent, and the bags under her eyes made me wonder whether the only time she rests is when she accidentally falls asleep while studying.

She mumbled incoherently in her sleep and a string of drool dripped onto my thigh. The tiny bursts of rainbow-coloured light being scattered around by the stained-glass windows were falling perfectly onto the little puddle of spittle on my thigh. It was beautiful. Everything about the girl on my lap was beautiful. I was fixated on how her drool glittered and dazzled, casting out millions of tiny rainbows of hope.

I dragged my infatuated—and frankly obsessed—gaze away from the girl who constantly consumed my mind like a haunting melody that kept playing on repeat. I turned my attention, instead, back to the research that she had been working too hard on.

Each tower on her desk was just one file containing the entire life of a single human—including all their relationships, conversations, and all the relevant information. I glanced at the file directly in front of her and took a sharp breath at the name clearly emblazoned upon it.

Andrew Andrews.

Looking at the other files, I realized they were those of all the humans Andrew knew, or even shortly interacted with. His parents' files bookmarked from the time of his birth, and the recent files of all his teachers, classmates, and everyone on the football team, including Evan, Ciara, and even that awful Derek.

A choked sound left my throat, horrible realization setting upon me like suffocating cement. Georgie had always believed in me. She was the only one who ever did. But the truth was glaringly apparent; she thought as little of me as everyone else did.

I felt betrayed.

Georgie stretched on my lap, my sudden tension pulling her out of slumber.

'Do you want to explain this to me?' My voice came out icy and distant, sounding like it came from someone else.

Georgie sat up, her drowsiness banished by my freezing tone. Her face flushed in guilt, turning the same colour as her hair.

'I just wanted to help you.'

'What makes you think I needed your help?' I demanded. 'I was doing just fine on my own.'

'I heard about what happened, with the-' Her voice dropped to a whisper for the final word of damnation. 'Marijuana.'

And there it was. 'You think I can't do my own damn job.' I stated.

Georgie gasped. 'Don't use that word! Especially not when you're in the heavens. You're an Angel, after all.'

'Well clearly you believe that I'm a bad one. Just like everyone else here.'

'I'm just trying to help you, Marie,' she admonished, an angry frown marring her face, 'It's not like I'm not busy with my own work, but I still carved out the time to help you because you're my friend—and clearly you need the help. You could at least be a bit grateful instead of snapping my head off.' Georgie's voice raised at the end as she lost her cool.

'And did I ask for your help?' I seethed. 'I'm sure you have hundreds more humans to attend to—so you can leave me to my one.'

'It seems that even your one may be too much for you to handle,' she shot back, her words stabbing like a knife to my heart.

I stood up so fast that my chair fell over and I kicked it across the floor, satisfied by the loud thud and the subsequent look of shock that appeared on Georgie's face.

I stormed out of the room.