Read Online Falling (The Falling Angels Saga) by E. Van Lowe - Free Book Online
Authors: E. Van Lowe
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cold tiles. I craned my neck upward at Aunt Jaz lying in bed. “I’m so, so sorry.” There was anguish in my words.
“It’s not your fault. You’re a victim here, too,” she said.
I nodded. Yet, no matter what she’d said, I didn’t feel like a victim. I felt like the most horrible person on the face of the earth. Aunt Jaz was one of my favorite people. So was Maudrina. I wondered how deranged a person had to be to do something so despicable to the ones they loved.
I crawled along the floor toward the gris gris as it wormed toward me. With every inch it moved, I felt my anguish increase. Sensing me nearer, the gris gris’s movements sped up, as if it were a beloved pet coming home to its master. I reached the gris gris, snatched it up and tore open the bag. Rather than breathe it in, as Matt had done with the gris gris he made for me, I got to my feet, dumped the contents onto the floor, and began stomping them.
I have no idea how long I stomped the evil thing. I was screaming when Maudrina pulled me away. “Stop it, Megan. Enough!” she cried, corralling me in her arms, dragging me away from the mess on the floor.
“Is everything all right in here?” Hearing the commotion, a nurse had stuck her head in. I yanked myself free from Maudrina’s grasp, brushed past the nurse and bolted out into the corridor. I stumbled toward the elevator. My thoughts were coming so quickly, smashing together. Nothing stayed in my mind long enough to congeal and make sense. I was a raw nerve.
“Megan!” I heard Maudrina call. I started running. With my thought process in shambles, I had become an animal, acting on instinct alone. Fight or flight.
I reached the elevator and punched the button with my fist. Bam! Again, Bam! Again, Bam!
“Megan!” She called louder. My frantic eyes bounced around the waiting room like a crazed animal looking for escape. I saw the exit sign a few steps away. I slammed through the exit door into the stairwell, and fled down the stairs. “Megan, come back!” I heard Maudrina call out from several floors above.
I careened out of the building and into the hospital’s parking lot where I wandered aimlessly. The setting sun reflecting off the cars in the lot cooked up a wall of heat. It felt as if I were in hell. Perfect.
My mind was an untidy heap. Looking back, I now realize I was afraid to think, afraid that once my mind settled, I’d be forced to swallow the bitter pill of truth and admit to myself that I was a monster.
As I continued through the lot, a rudderless ship adrift at sea, I spotted a white car turn the corner and start down the aisle toward me. Something about the car caught my attention. It was a Mustang. I stopped and stared at the car moving slowly in my direction. I didn’t know why this car was significant to me, and then a thought fired through. Guy has a Mustang .
The thought of Guy relaxed my mind, helped settle the jumbled mess in my head. I squinted at the car. The sun was glinting off of it and at first I couldn’t make out who was behind the wheel. As the Mustang got closer, I recognized the driver—Harrison. Another clear thought emerged from the confusion— Harrison is my protector . My heart did a summersault in my chest.
“Harrison,” I whispered. “Harrison,” I called louder and started running toward the Mustang. The car jerked to a stop, mostly I think, to keep from hitting me because it was clear I wasn’t going to. Harrison emerged from the car wearing a white shirt that hugged his athletic frame along with his trademark red jeans. Lines of worry were etched into his gorgeous face.
“Megan, are you okay?” I fell into his arms and clung to him, breathless. “I don’t know what’s going on,” he said, “but I brought someone I thought might cheer ya up.”
It was then I noticed a man exiting the passenger side of the car. Guy. I released Harrison and stood staring at him, afraid to move forward, afraid this was just another one of
“It’s not your fault. You’re a victim here, too,” she said.
I nodded. Yet, no matter what she’d said, I didn’t feel like a victim. I felt like the most horrible person on the face of the earth. Aunt Jaz was one of my favorite people. So was Maudrina. I wondered how deranged a person had to be to do something so despicable to the ones they loved.
I crawled along the floor toward the gris gris as it wormed toward me. With every inch it moved, I felt my anguish increase. Sensing me nearer, the gris gris’s movements sped up, as if it were a beloved pet coming home to its master. I reached the gris gris, snatched it up and tore open the bag. Rather than breathe it in, as Matt had done with the gris gris he made for me, I got to my feet, dumped the contents onto the floor, and began stomping them.
I have no idea how long I stomped the evil thing. I was screaming when Maudrina pulled me away. “Stop it, Megan. Enough!” she cried, corralling me in her arms, dragging me away from the mess on the floor.
“Is everything all right in here?” Hearing the commotion, a nurse had stuck her head in. I yanked myself free from Maudrina’s grasp, brushed past the nurse and bolted out into the corridor. I stumbled toward the elevator. My thoughts were coming so quickly, smashing together. Nothing stayed in my mind long enough to congeal and make sense. I was a raw nerve.
“Megan!” I heard Maudrina call. I started running. With my thought process in shambles, I had become an animal, acting on instinct alone. Fight or flight.
I reached the elevator and punched the button with my fist. Bam! Again, Bam! Again, Bam!
“Megan!” She called louder. My frantic eyes bounced around the waiting room like a crazed animal looking for escape. I saw the exit sign a few steps away. I slammed through the exit door into the stairwell, and fled down the stairs. “Megan, come back!” I heard Maudrina call out from several floors above.
I careened out of the building and into the hospital’s parking lot where I wandered aimlessly. The setting sun reflecting off the cars in the lot cooked up a wall of heat. It felt as if I were in hell. Perfect.
My mind was an untidy heap. Looking back, I now realize I was afraid to think, afraid that once my mind settled, I’d be forced to swallow the bitter pill of truth and admit to myself that I was a monster.
As I continued through the lot, a rudderless ship adrift at sea, I spotted a white car turn the corner and start down the aisle toward me. Something about the car caught my attention. It was a Mustang. I stopped and stared at the car moving slowly in my direction. I didn’t know why this car was significant to me, and then a thought fired through. Guy has a Mustang .
The thought of Guy relaxed my mind, helped settle the jumbled mess in my head. I squinted at the car. The sun was glinting off of it and at first I couldn’t make out who was behind the wheel. As the Mustang got closer, I recognized the driver—Harrison. Another clear thought emerged from the confusion— Harrison is my protector . My heart did a summersault in my chest.
“Harrison,” I whispered. “Harrison,” I called louder and started running toward the Mustang. The car jerked to a stop, mostly I think, to keep from hitting me because it was clear I wasn’t going to. Harrison emerged from the car wearing a white shirt that hugged his athletic frame along with his trademark red jeans. Lines of worry were etched into his gorgeous face.
“Megan, are you okay?” I fell into his arms and clung to him, breathless. “I don’t know what’s going on,” he said, “but I brought someone I thought might cheer ya up.”
It was then I noticed a man exiting the passenger side of the car. Guy. I released Harrison and stood staring at him, afraid to move forward, afraid this was just another one of
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