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Sep 2012
I look different inside everyone.
I am the being who rests on your shoulder when you are brought up to dismay.
When you have no where else to go, do not worry.
I will always be with you.

Most people view me as the perfect, innocent person.
With blonde hair stricken with the light of the sun.
A white, flowing dress as clear as the clouds.
Some imagine me with wings that allow me to reach up to the skies.
What do people really think of me, I wonder?
My body is petite and small, without the presence of wrinkles.
I open my eyes, clear as day's sky.
Light blue orbs puts the finishing piece on my face.

My feet brush against the blades of grass.
I walk down the grassy hill, not noticing the eyes from afar.
After a while, my bare feet scrape against the hard surface of cement.
Groups of people do not stop even for a second and a loud, deafening sound slinks into my ears.
Without thinking, all the people walking past me step on my toes, crushing them.
To get away from the noise and pain, I make a turn into an alley.

All the sudden, I realize that I am no longer in the open fields.
Now, I am in the enclosed space of shadows.
In my burst of confusion, I am grabbed from behind.
My lip collides with the brick wall, causing it to split open.
The blood trickles down the outline of my face, staining the once-pale skin into a red blush.
I let out a gasp when pain becomes a factor.

A weapon of sin rests enclosed in me.
My wound seeps into the front of my dress.
Everything is turning flush red and my eyes are fogged by tears.
Pain and its foreign concept become real.
The object in my body is ****** out and I feel my essence fading.
My life is fading; yet the person does not stop.
Using the same smeared blade, a sliver gleam rips the bottom of my dress.
My voice is strained and struggling to make any sound.
I am silent: where has my voice gone?

My hand manages to cling on the perpetrator's arm, but he does not stop.
I feel another wave of pain in my lower half.
My voice comes back in a single scream
He does not stop.
There's so much blood, I am beginning to feel light-headed.

Please, somebody, save me!

Hours go by and I feel my conscious fading.
He finally stops and gets up.
He does nothing to help and leaves me in the alleyway.
My disheveled form is hidden by the shadows that lay deep in the darkness.
I cannot move my body from the pool of blood leaking from my wounds.
Am I dying?
I close my eyes, too tired to keep them open any longer.

The man walks down the street and heads home for the day.
He greets a woman in his house, kissing her and rubbing the apparent bulge from her stomach.
He shuffles under the covers as he attempts to sleep.
He feels another weight on the bed and looks over.
He might have been expecting his wife.
What he got was me.
My wings were tainted with my own blood, maintaining a dark red color.
The eyes that had once been as clear as the sky are now clouded with yellow thunder.
My face adorns a grin wide enough to make my cheeks fall off of my face.
The bloodied knife was raised in my hand.

The grin still on my face, I plunged the object.
The blood splattered on my soiled dress.
A laugh erupted from the pit of my stomach.

One should know better than to **** the very angel of Death.
Celeste DiLullo
Written by
Celeste DiLullo  Moraga, CA
(Moraga, CA)   
  933
 
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