|Angel in Distress|| |
It was a handsome and fancy music box. The one with a pretty-faced angel holding a golden harp while dancing in circles atop the round mirror. She had enormous but delicately-looking wings on her back; its tiny feathers fluttering every time she moves around her space. Donned with a charming white robe with a blue belt clasped around her tiny waist, the angel was perfectly beautiful.
The music box belonged to this teenager named Emma. Like the angel, Emma was blessed with good looks pleasing to the eyes of the boys from her school and a source of envy from the girls as well. With that innocently-looking face of hers, Emma could pass for a saint or even for an angel if God would have given her wings and a halo.
But most often, looks can be very deceiving. Emma was neither a saint nor an angel. In fact, her inner thoughts were of the exact opposite. Deep inside her, everything was in turmoil. Her body was like a house inhabited by pain, confusion, hatred and extreme sadness. Her soul was like standing in a death row waiting for its moment to finally put everything to an end. And indeed it was waiting. Her clock was ticking. She was like a time bomb waiting for the right time…
Then a sound of a single shot suddenly interrupted the stillness of the room. It was an ear-splitting sound that the angel fell on the carpeted floor. Her perfectly-beautiful face, her soft and delicate wings, her shiny golden harp and her unblemished white robe were splattered with tiny and large red-colored spots. The angel, which used to be immaculately-clean, was suddenly smeared with blood.
And sprawled atop the pink-colored bed was Emma, her hand still clutching the gun which was only a few inches away from her temple. And just like the angel slumped on the pink-colored carpet, Emma looked lifeless. Eerily lifeless.