TUESDAY: Impulses

BY VIVIAN MEDEIROS

Copyright is held by the author.

ANGEL STEPPED out in the darkness and paused when she saw it approaching. Completely in black, the figure walking towards Angel blended into the night sky. Raven hair riding the wind, dark coat billowing behind her like ominous wings, the rain drops seemed to part as she descended towards Angel. As she approached, Angel was surprised to see the rain had no effect on her, as if she was enveloped in a bubble.

“Hello Angel,” she smiled, ruby lips revealing glistening white teeth.

Angel’s heart skipped a beat. She knew what was coming next, and under the shelter of the umbrella she let the tap-tap of the rain drops settle her racing mind.

“No, please, I don’t want to anymore,” she whispered. “I’m tired…I’m scared.”

“You know this has to be done. These people have to pay.”

Moving to stand behind Angel, she placed a knife in her hand and leaned in close. “Take this. I have faith in you to do the right thing,” she whispered in her ear, her warm breath lingering on Angel’s neck like a lover’s touch.

With a slight nod, Angel wrapped her fingers around the blade’s handle and felt it’s strength course through her palm. The knife’s energy awakened her senses as it travelled through her. She felt alive.

Fear now replaced with determination, she walked to the Metro station. Angel felt as if something had taken control of her body and was manipulating her every move. Like a marionette, invisible string lifted her head higher with each step, while more strings pulled her shoulders back. She was an imposing figure and people stopped to let her pass.

Angel paused at the platform and scanned the area. She methodically analyzed each stranger as she focused on their faces, searching for the right one. And then there he was.

His impeccable dress hid what she knew lay underneath: an arrogant, self-absorbed individual who cared for no one other than himself. It showed in his tone of voice, the condescending look in his eyes and his demeanour as he spoke to his companion.

“He has to pay. He has to pay,” Angel repeated the phrase in her head as she waited for the perfect moment.

Her moment came and she started moving. One foot in front of the other, high heels clicking on the tiled floor, she caressed the blade as she approached him, oblivious of others around her.

He must have sensed her coming and lifted his head. She met his gaze, and with a swift, effortless movement, she plunged the blade in his abdomen, pushing past the resistance of his skin. Still locking eyes, she saw his pupils widen in surprise and caught a reflection of herself in the orbs.

Angel leaned into the knife, forcing it deeper. Her eyes fluttered and closed as she both felt and visualized it cutting through tissue and muscle, blood breaking free from severed vessels and coating everything in its path. She pulled on the handle, and with a pop, the blade came free, releasing more blood and creating a shimmery trail.

The man slumped and collapsed to the ground. With a brief look at his body, she turned and walked back the way she came and out into the night.

Her eyes snapped open as the night mist touched her face and she found herself again standing on the sidewalk, no recollection of getting there.

“There she is,” she heard someone calling from the distance.

“Come on, sweetheart,” the orderly gently grabbed her by her shoulders and guided her towards the nearby hospital. “Let’s get you back into your bed where it’s warmer.”

“I can’t,” Angel tried to resist. “I did it again! She made me do it! She made me stab him. We have to go back and help!”

“You haven’t hurt anyone, honey. You’ve been imagining things again.”

“No, I did! I did!” Frantic now, Angel held up her bloody hands as proof and was surprised to see they were clean.

No, no, no,” she whispered, desperately hitting the sides of her head with open palms, trying to remember.

A movement caught her eye, and she looked up to see the man from the train station walk by, uninjured.

“Looks like you’ve had one of your episodes again,” the orderly spoke in a calming tone, as she led her back to the building.

Dejected, Angel lifted her face to the sky, letting the cool drops settle on her checks and caress her face. She paused at the door, and with a last glance at the figure in the distance, she let them take her back.

***

Image of Vivian Medeiros

Recently relocated to Hamilton, Vivian is always scoping out small coffee shops where, with the help of a great cup of coffee, she can get creative juices flowing (a sweet treat also doesn’t hurt). After using her kids as sounding boards, she is now starting to put her work out there and has even published a few pieces. During the summer months, she can be found on an island in Greece, spending time with her family . . . and writing, of course.

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