Me, an angel? Yeah right!

'I’m surrounded by white fluffy clouds, and I have wings! That’s right I’m a freaking angel.'
Jade is dead, she doesn't know how, she doesn't know why. All she does know is that she's an angel. With no memory of her life and just the mysterious Kye to guide her, she must discover what happened to her, whilst trying to be a good angel of course.


10. Home

After a short two minute walk we arrived at a medium sized red brick house. One thought came through our connection... home. We walked slowly up to the door, jade leading the way. She reached out a hand for the handle but hesitated, her hand hovering in midair, before she withdrew. “H... how do I go in?”
“Walk through the door, it seems weird but trust me, it’ll be fine,” She took a deep breath, taking a faltering step forward. I watched as she disappeared straight through the door and quickly followed without hesitation.


Jade’s P.O.V.

I’m home... I can’t believe it. I remembered this, the faded blue walls of the living room covered in family pictures, the huge flat screen TV courtesy of mum’s husband. The huge cushy sofas, one for the adults’ one for the kids, but the cats took up all of them anyway. My gorgeous cats, one black, the other tabby; Marlow and KitKat. A huge portrait of me hung above the mantel piece, it had been taken just a week before I died. ‘1997-2013’ was delicately engraved in script on the Beachwood frame. I suddenly felt Kye stiffen beside me, his hand was clenched around mine, making his knuckles turn white. Glancing up at him anxiously, I was hit full force with a memory, I didn’t think Kye meant to send it to me, but something about the frame had triggered it.



I appeared to be seeing things from Kye’s perspective, looking through his eyes, although I had no control over what I did, I was purely a spectator. I could sense another angel next to me, which must have been Kye’s Guide. A small boy who looked just about 11 walked in, he was obviously related to Kye. He stumbled over to a small cabinet, glancing around nervously, before hesitatingly pulling a draw open. He slipped a picture frame out swiftly. Kye’s body took a step forward, taking me with it. I glanced over his shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of the picture. A silver frame encased the small photo, Kye stood, leaning against a tree, hands in his pockets. It was obviously summer, gentle light filtering through the green canopy and dappling his face. A small tear started to trickle down the boy’s cheek, dropping silently down onto the glass. “What are you doing?” A sharp voice snapped. A tall woman strode towards us; she looked just like Kye and his brother, obviously their mum. A terrified look took over the boys face, and he tried to hide the frame behind his back. “What is it?” She hissed. The child slowly brought his hands out from behind his back, the woman’s face softened slightly when she saw it, taking it gently from him. Her fingertips tenderly traced the picture, guilt, love and sadness, evident in her eyes. “I miss him,” The boy murmured, his voice cracking with distress. The woman folded him into a soft hug, tears filling her eyes as well. Suddenly a door slammed, a broad man walked in, his face contorted in what seemed to be anger. I could feel the fear radiating off the mother and child.

“What are you doing?!?” He roared, marching over, and snatching the photo. “I told you!” He whispered harshly right in the boys face. Gripping him tightly by the arm, he shook him roughly. “He didn’t care about you! He’s never coming back! Just forget about him!” He threw the picture on the floor, grinding his heel on it, breaking the glass and tearing the photo. “I hate you!” They boy screamed, breaking free and tearing off, tears streaming down his face in anger and grief.




The memory blurred and faded away. I pulled Kye into a hug; he was stiff at first, but soon relaxed into it. I felt a damp patch appearing on my hair, sorrow filled my heart. “I...” I tried to speak but I didn’t know what to say, well what do you say?
“I’ll explain...”

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