Sacred Angel - Part 1

Sacred Angel - Part 1

Part One – End of a Day

As her forehead hit the shop front window, the pain was dull, the cold glass hardly registered. She felt the pull of the glass against the weathered loose skin of her face as her body gave way and her knees sagged.

Passers-by moved out of her decline, looked in disgust as her ragged body slipped to a haunch position. Strolled on by as her hips gave in and her body rolled sideways onto the cold hard street.

Before she fell she caught sight of her own feint reflection in the glass. Her eyes met themselves there and then and she saw into her own soul. All the hatred and anger that fuelled her existence exhumed, no more could be absorbed by her body.

The pain, physical, so deep inside seemed to ebb from every angle of her inner self. Not even the alcohol seemed to work its magic pain relief and dulling of senses. But despite all of this the voices of the passing pedestrians was all she heard. He mind lay calm and still and it was as if at last the demons won their fight for her sanity. On her side she slumped with her grey face covered in snot and tears. A broken form, a lost cause and a moment from death at last.

For her, nobody cared or came to her side. Only words of brutality echoed around her, insults of drunkenness and filthy dirty, crazy and depraved.

At fifty four her body was that of a seventy year old. Dirty scabby skin awash with grime hanging loose on bones. Her body had sagged and wasted from years of abuse and torment.

Her eyes fixed in a blurred tunnel and started to fade. She welcomed the end as then all the pain would end. Then she could rest and lay still without any torment, oh how she hoped for death. Suddenly the ground was cold and her body limp and still nobody rushed to her side to help.

What did anyone know of this old tatty, scruffy dirty old woman? She slipped from this life without aid, without care but not without incident.