Angel

I’m sure that at one point or another in a guy’s life, he dreams of having the perfect girl for himself. Well for me, that dream came true. But now, I wish it had not for various reasons.

I passed by her on the street and the breeze ever so slightly kissed my cheek as she walked by. I can still smell her lilac perfume. I glanced back, she was so beautiful. I had to force myself from starring. Later that day, I saw her again outside the florist shop. Realizing that this would be my last chance, I worked up the courage to introduce myself. Nervously I greeted her with a simple “Hello” and told her my name. My voice quivered with every word. Sweetly she replied with a hello as well, and said her name was Grace. Her voice rang within my ears like music that even the greatest of composers could not create. When I found out she worked there, I just had to find a way to see her more.

Everyday I longed to see her so badly, that I started to buy flowers needlessly, making lame excuses such as “Oh, yeah they’re for my mother.” Yes, I know this is the oldest trick in the book, but what can I say; I was desperate to see her. On Friday morning I stopped in to buy a crisp, new, pink rose. I brought it up to the register where she was, smiling all the way. When I got in front of the register she looked at me and started to laugh. I looked at her with a puzzled expression and she began to laugh even harder. “You can stop wasting your money and just ask me.” She said while flashing a beautiful smile.

That night we went to dinner at Fresno’s, a restaurant overlooking a large river. The moon was full and beamed silver light that reflected off the surface of the slightly rippling water. It was the perfect night. After dinner we walked along the edge of the river talking about anything that came to mind. Then the pinnacle of the night came. She stood in front of me and we gazed into each others’ eyes. Her eyes were a deep green and seemed to mesmerize me. The quiet night breeze blew a few strands of long, dark hair across her face. As I brushed the strands away, her skin was so smooth it felt like the finest silk ever made. Forever it seemed time had stopped as we sat there, holding each other closely. We sat along the bank observing the flickering of the incandescent stars that were so very far away. Saying good-bye that night was the hardest thing to do. Reluctantly we parted until another day.

As days turned to weeks, and weeks into months, our love for each other only grew. If even the most unfathomable oceans were filled with words, still I could not begin to describe my feelings for Grace. She was definitely my one true love. We were very eclectic in the activities we engaged in, ranging from canoeing to watching movies and plays. We did anything we could think of, just to be together.

It was New Years Eve that night, Christmas was amazing even though we already had everything we ever wanted. It was late in the evening so I walked her home and watched, grinning as she crossed the road. Then it happened. He happened. He took everything away.

The drunk driver sped down the street going ninety-seven miles per hour. He swerved spasmodically, and then he struck her. It was as if it was all in slow motion; me yelling at her to get out of the way, the look of terror in her eyes. A thud echoed and Grace cart-wheeled in the air and landed before my feet. I knelt down beside her and whispered her name. “Grace, Grace, please Grace, speak to me.”

No response came. A rivulet of blood trickled down from the corner of her mouth. The driver stepped out of the vehicle taking a swill of hard liquor. “Hey man, I think I hit a deer, that thing was huge.”

The chill from the cold night air crept up my spine and the blood froze within my veins. My heart stopped beating, for the love that once kept it aflame was now squelched by Grace’s shed blood. My eyes now burned with hate. Fiercely they burned with the desire to obliterate that man’s very soul.

I hurled the man to the ground and began squeezing his throat so hard his trachea was almost to the point of collapsing. Oblivious to the sirens, I continued to squeeze the life out of the drunk. The police snatched me off him though I fought to regain my grip. The ambulance came and picked up Grace’s inert body. I bent over and took a red ribbon from her hair. Lightly I rubbed it between my fingers and smelled it. The scent of her shampoo still lingered within the cotton strands.

At the funeral I stood over her body, longing to gaze one last time into her mystifying green eyes. But I knew those eyes would remain closed, forever. Gently I placed a pink rose underneath her hand, just like the one she had prevented me from buying. A warm tear rolled down my cheek and splashed on her cold lips.

When I returned to my dark and lonely home, I looked through all of the photos of us together. Unable to bear the overwhelming waves of emotion, I reached over and pulled the revolver out of the drawer. In the suffocating darkness, light from the streetlamps reflected off the sleek, metallic barrel of the gun. The click from the hammer setting into place resounded within my ears. Click…Click…Click….

My hand gripped tightly around the gun and my finger slowly closed in around the small curve of the trigger. As my finger touched the cold metal, a pale light shined throughout the room. It was my Grace. The melodic sound of her voice sang once more, “I’m here for you…………... Always.”