Wingless Angel

The Blurb:

Battle fought, battle won and lost,

Chains forged and chains shattered,

Hope will fade on the darkest night.

There is a prophecy of the Saviour, the one who will save every being ever dreamed of.

But then, there is also the Destroyer, chosen by the first ever Angel, they were chosen to end everything: life, war and time.

However, not everything runs smoothly, it never does in war. That's what this is, it is war. The thing is though, they are both connected in more ways than just their destinies. 

"In you, I see pain and happiness, night and day, anger and serenity; a raging war and peace. I see hope and resignation, love and hatred. In you, I see minutes...no, days, years; decades...time. Infinity. In you, I see eternity.

You are my eternity."

Wingless Angel ~S.J. Holmes

This, Wingless Angel, is my own original story as Harry Potter is Rowling's. Please do not steal this story in an attempt to make money, that's my job. I work hard, everyday writing this so I don't want to end up finding out it was all a waste for myself.  

"Time is too slow for those who wait, too swift for those who fear, too long for those who grieve, too short for those who rejoice, but for those who love, time is eternity" ~ Unknown

Prologue 

When I was appointed as her guardian angel, I had no idea of the events that would transpire in her life. Nobody did. I had no idea that in the end, I would fail my family and most regrettably her. Perhaps this was her destiny and I was chosen to keep her on the right path; I didn't fail. Perhaps it was meant to happen, I am, still, yet to find out. But most of all I never, in the thousands of years of my existence, expected my Father's plans for the girl and myself. Still, I welcomed them with open arms and a smile on my face; I had become quite attached to the girl when she was still just a child.

I underestimated her so many times as she grew. Always thinking that she'd end up hurt every time she tried something; she'd seem to just attract danger, yet each time, I was mercifully proven wrong on my quick assumptions. The girl was always stronger emotionally and in the fact that she never once gave up. That is one of the many things that I still admire about her. She was so strong willed but sometimes when she was hurt mentally or emotionally, I saw the light of hope and life fade from her beautiful eyes. It pained me too; I saw our world wear her down so that there wasn't much of the girl left.

But she was always meant for our world.

From the moment her parents met and their destinies intertwined, two plans were set into motion. The first, on the side of Hell, was the plan of the destroyer, the Devil himself chose someone close to God as The Destroyer. I would be that person. The second plan was in retaliation to the first, the plan of The Saviour.

January 15th 1999

Just out in the green of the countryside of Yorkshire, there stood a small, ancient house that was home to a woman and her baby. A baby who, even from before birth, was destined for greatness. Her name said it all. Hope Angelica. She was to be every being's last hope. Her destiny was to save, not just humans, but Angels, Demons and Monsters alike.

Perching on a sturdy branch outside the sleeping baby's room, a man watched as she slumbered peacefully in her crib. The silent wind enabled the cricket's lullaby to fill the nursery through the open window and the clear night sky allowed the glowing moon to illuminate the room. It was a peaceful winter's evening. Then the man visibly tense as if he sensed danger.

A dark, cold, evil presence, that would make anybody's blood grin cold in fright, filled the.area. The man had personally, never met the reason for the presence but he had heard of him. The newcomer is the reason for everybody's, for monsters that lurk under beds or in closets, for the bad dreams that seen so real they have people waking up in the middle of the night screaming and covered in a cold sweat.

Lucifer.

He was as handsome as the legends depict yet as old as time itself. The first Angel. Nobody would think it though; he's the Devil himself, Satan, the King of Hell, he is known by many names, it's different wherever you go. But he's still his same evil, malicious self who kills and tortured would.just because he's bored. He is not a being you want to tango with.

As Lucifer entered Hope's room, darkness crept toward her crib from each corner and the devil advanced toward her. A cruel smirk crossed him angel-like features as he looked down at, in him mind, a pitiful excuse of a Saviour. He could kill her so easily and so he would, sooner rather than later. Preferably tonight so that Hope didn't cause him any trouble in the future. Satan would feel no guilt or remorse for the child, he would only relish in the fact that he would be victor and God would have lost this battle.

Looming over the cot, Satan reached toward 'The Saviour' and placed his hand to cover her nose and mouth, preparing to smother her. Of course, no plan is without an intervention and this one was no different. The door creates open, a single drop of light streaming into the room and the figure of a woman blocking the doorway. Her mouth was agape in horror and fright as she witnessed the scene before her. It was short lived. With a single flick of his wrist, Lucifer killed the woman painlessly and quickly; she hit the ground with a thud. Her eyes and mouth were still wide in terror.

Finally, he turned back to the task at hand. He was here to kill Hope. Fixing the child.with his cold stare, Lucifer grabbed one of her stuffed toys and covered her mouth and nose once more. She was dead in a matter of minutes. Thought it was a monstrous, painful act, in the devils eyes it was need and he felt no emotion for the loss of such a young life.

Silence.

It hung in the air like fog in the late evening, nothing made a sound. Silence. Even the crickets had stopped their song, as if mourning for the deaths of the two females. Silence. Then a wicked laugh cut through the saddened atmosphere like a knife, it was sharp and full of malice. The chuckle echoed through the ancient house, making the windows vibrate in their frames. He had won! Nothing, nobody could save the humans they were going to perish. Lucifer would take great pleasure in killing every single one of them and then locking them in Hell for an eternity of torture. He would kill them all himself but it would take far too long so he would enlist the help of his loyal minions, so to speak.

Still chuckling hysterically, Lucifer vanished in a cloud of black smoke.

Nothing made a sound, nobody warning the area now; even the wildlife had scattered at the appearance of the Devil and So had the mysterious man. He had left his tree and was nowhere in sight. Surprisingly, a bright, white light illuminated the darkened room, it was blinding. The whiteness of the light could only mean one thing: purity. The light of an Angel.

As the light dulled, the figure of a young man became visible. He was tall, a few inches over six-foot, with shoulder length chocolate hair that was silky to the touch; a handsome face that can only be described as angelic, finally, his skin wasn't extremely pale but it wasn't overly tanned either, it was just somewhere in the middle of the two. But the most surprising of all were his eyes; they were bright green with swirls or silver mixed in.

From just one glance, you could see that he was older than he looked, whether that's to do with they eyes or just the the way he held himself. Either way, he wasn't nearly as young as he looked. Oh no, he had been around for millennia, maybe not as long as Satan, but he was close.

Hesitantly, the man stepped toward the crib and reached into his jacket pocket. Slowly, he retrieved a glass vial with a sliver substance, the same silver as in his strange eyes. Taking a deep breath, the man lowered the vial to Hope's slightly opened mouth and the silver substance whispered down her throat and into her body. The man whispered his prayer that the substance would save the girl. As he spoke, the silver substance traveled all throughout her tiny body before coming to rest at her abdomen.

Nothing happened.

Then there was a sharp intake of breath followed by the cry of an infant. Around the baby, the air seemed to glow, as did the child herself. As she cried, her eyes opened revealing ice blue irises with strange swirls of silver mixed in, much like the man's. The reason for the strange colour in her eyes,.in.both of their eyes, must have been the silver substance that the man had given Hope in hopes of reviving her so that she could fulfill her destiny.

Lifting the small child into his arms, the man also took one of her fluffy.blankets from the crib before disappearing into thin air. Hope's mother's body still laid lifeless on the ground of the nursery but her soul had ascended up to Heaven where she could watch her daughter live her life.

A light illuminated a darkened alley just off a street in London; nobody was, luckily, around to see it. The figure of a man emerged from the lightened alley, in his arms was a bundle of fabrics as if there was a swaddled baby in his arms. Slowly, her strode along the deserted street toward a large house.The house, surrounded by winter bare trees with skeleton-like twigs and branches, was old and built of fancy stone. There were large steps leading to the main door, which was white. It was also the only house with lights turned on. The whole walk down the street, the and didn't see one house with any lights on. It seemed that this was the house that he wanted as he climbed the stairs, reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out an envelope and bent down so that he was sat on his knees.carefully, he placed Hope on the cold ground and tucked the envelope into the blankets. With a sigh, the man stood and took a step back. With a whoosh of the wing he was gone.

Chapter One

Outside, in the night, the wind howled, whistling through skeletal branches, rain bounced multiple times as it hit any (and every) surface and great melancholy, oppressing clouds hung over the earth beneath, Then, for a moment at least, everything stopped - no rain pounded the saturated ground and the wind died down but the clouds didn’t clear. It was peaceful. But it wouldn’t last.

Bang!

The sudden, but not unexpected, clap of thunder was like a ‘play’ button on a remote because as the noise ended, the rain began to hurtle toward the ground once more and the wind bent trees back, snapping twigs and branches in the process. It was like war. Between what? Who knows.

Clap!

Another sound of thunder and the wind picked up, blowing pelts of water into the glass of the windows of the house at the end of the country lane. It was as if the elements were attacking the building, as if they help some kind of feud with it. Perhaps, water being violently thrown at the house was just a happy coincidence or maybe, the elements were being controlled by some higher (or lowly) power.  

Illuminating the sky, lightning struck a few fields over. With the abrupt light came another crash. No, this time, it wasn't thunder, it came from the house. Yet, all of the inhabitants were peacefully sleeping in their allotted rooms.

There was somebody else in the house - the attic to be exact.

Silently, a shadowed figure hunched over a dusty box, The lightning had shocked the individual, causing them to crash into a box and knock it over. Thankfully, not the one they were looking for. The box the person had been looking for was the one that they were leant over, right in the furthest, darkest corner of the room. The part that nobody had been to for many years.

Hands lifted items out of the cardboard then placed them back, not finding what they were searching for. Finally lifting out a bundle of fabric with a chain dangling limply from it, the hands froze in their actions. This was why the figure was in the house; a blanket and a necklace. Only this figure knew the true history of the two items - not even the two adults - or the person the items belonged to -  knew the truth.

"What are you doing here? Put them back!" A sleepy yet strong voice demanded,taking the figure by surprise again, halting the person in their movements. "If you don't answer my question or do as I say, I'll call the police."
"No you won't, Hope." The voice was that of a young man, sounding to be around the age of sixteen or seventeen. Still, he dropped the blanket and chain onto a box as he strode toward the girl. He was smirking.
"I...I - who is Hope?" Slightly stuttering, the girl questioned. She was confused; that much was evident from her voice. The name had sent bells ringing in her head, as if in recognition.
"Oh yes, they call you Amelia now..." Trailing off, the man's voice sounded mournful almost - or maybe, it was the female's imagination.
"Who are you?"

At last, the young man looked at the girl standing before him. She wore pink flannel bottoms with a plain white top with a soft pink, silk bathrobe over the top of her pyjamas. Her hair, messily tied into a bun as if she had rushed to tie it up as she clambered up the stairs, was golden blonde that would shimmer in the sun. Amelia's skin was pale like snow and curiously, it emitted a light glow; her lips were rosy pink.

But it was her eyes that held the man's captivation; they weren't what people would consider normal. Normally, a person's eyes are blue or green or hazel or brown sometimes, people even had one eye one colour and the other eye another colour. The iris of Amelia's eyes were blue - bright blue, like the deepest oceans but swirling through the base, was sliver. The unnatural colour melted into the natural colour at some points, melding in others and sometimes even sticking out like a sore thumb.

She was beautiful - unnaturally so.

"You need not know my name nor do you need to be aware of my reasoning for being in your home." Dismissively, the male stated, striding to stand not even a foot away from the girl, "All you do need to know is that, nothing is as it seems. The world isn't safe for you, Amelia and unknown dangers approach quickly.

"You need to be careful. I will do everything in my power to protect you but You need to watch your back. Stay out of harms way. Keep to the inside of the path. Amelia, you. Have. To. Keep. Yourself. Safe." At the end of the warning speech, there was no longer a shadowed figure to pair the angelic voice to and Amelia was left alone in the glume of the attic with only a bolt of lightning every now and again to light the room.
She couldn’t help but be curious. Hesitantly, Amelia Thomas reached out and picked up the blanket with the locket looking for anything she recognized. Nothing. Then, she flipped over the locket. Hope Angelica. The name was etched into the silver with a delicate pattern beneath it.

That name, again. Why? Who was Hope? Why was her necklace here in this house? Maybe it had belonged to an ancestor. No. It was then that Amelia remembered the man’s words: ‘ “No you won’t, Hope.” ‘  He had spoken directly to her, called her Hope. But she was Amelia. “It’s too late for this.” Tiredly, the confused girl mumbled before leaving the attic and making her way back to her room.

It was still pitch black when Amelia was awoken by her alarm clock at 6:30 AM and the rain still pelted against the every surface.
“Amelia, I know you’re awake! Come get your breakfast!” Pulling Amelia from her thoughts, her mother, Laura yelled from down the hall.

Lies! The word cut through the girl's mind sharply, the sound loud in her head. The voice in her mind was rough and inhumanely scary. It sounded like Amelia imagined the Devil would sound like.

"Amelia!" The woman shouted once more, making the teenager jump again, "I know it’s your birthday but you still have to go to school, young lady!”
With a groan, Amelia told her mother that she’d be down in the kitchen in a few minutes and grabbed her bathrobe. The girl then ran down to where her brother and parents were eating in the kitchen.

A stack of pancakes were situated in the centre of the table with a candle poking out of the top. “Happy Birthday!” The three people corused as they gut up from the table and wrapped Amelia in their familiar arms. As she was encased in their arms, the phone began to ring so Laura left the hug and went to answer it.
“Let’s hope it’s school saying it’s shut.” Jamie, her older brother whispered as he and their father freed Amelia and let her sit down.
“It probably is, because of the storm last night.” John, her father, stated with a frustrated sigh, “The roads are blocked and fields flooded. Trees were even brought down due to the wind.” Silently, Amelia cheered as their mother returned and informed them that school was, in fact, closed.

“Since there’s no school, you’ll be home alone.” Laura told the two teenagers and rushed out the front door. Before she left though, she planted a kiss on each of her children’s heads. John followed her out.

“I’m going back to bed.” Amelia  yawned out to her older brother who rolled his eyes.
Sighing, Jamie chuckled out, “You sleep like the dead, you know?” Annoyed, shen glared at the statement, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you slept right through the storm last night.” But she hadn’t, the girl had been awoken by the crash in the attic. she spoke to the teenage boy, she  saw the locket and blanket. She questioned my whole existence. Her  whole life could be a lie.
“Yeah, I did.” Amy lied making the boy laugh more.
“See you later then, sis.”
Quickly, the teenage girl  ran from the kitchen and shouted back, “Bye!” as she clambered up the staircase. What her brother didn’t know is that she wasn’t going to be; she was too confused and curious to sleep. Plus, Amelia didn’t want to sleep her fifteenth birthday away. She didn’t go to sleep but she did go to her room.

Ignoring the pile of presents at the foot of her bed, Amelia went and took her leather-bound diary from under the corner of her mattress. The birthday girl loved this diary; the pages were made of recycled cotton, they were a faded yellow colour, like old paper and so, so soft. It was beautiful. But she was nearing the end of it and would have to buy a new one soon.

Dear Diary,

                 I’m confused. As in I have no idea if what happened was even real last night. All I know is that I saw the guy, well I didn’t exactly see him; he was hidden by the shadows but I heard his angelic voice. The sound of it was purely beautiful and so hypnotizing. But there was something else; I just don’t know what.

He called me Hope. Who is ‘Hope’? I swear, every time I hear that name, bells go off in my head. It’s as if my brain recognises it, but I don’t! I’m definitely not her - I’m Amelia. But I did find a tiny locket with the name ‘Hope’ inscribed into the back.

Maybe mum had another baby and she called her Hope but she died? But she can’t have; I would have heard mum talking about it at least once growing up. So who is Hope? Who was that fi

“My, my Hope, haven’t you grown?” A male voice sneered from behind her - her window, it was open. Shocked, Amelia dropped her diary to the ground and ran toward her door. Unfortunately, the girl put her back to the male so she didn’t see him running at her. Suddenly, the teenage girl was grabbed around the waist and thrown back, away from her only safe escape, into the wall with a crash.
The world spun around her and blood trickled down past her eyes, down her face. Ouch. She was trapped.
“Now, you will let me speak without trying to run, Love.” The unknown male demanded. With there being nothing else for her to do, Amelia nodded, not looking up, nor did she speak. “Look at me!” The voice roared ferociously, she looked up at him. To say that she was shocked at what she saw would be the understatement of the millennia.

Before her stood a male, around the age of eighteen maybe nineteen, his hair was golden and ran just passed his shoulders, his eyes were icy blue. Grey almost. He was tall, really tall, around six-foot three-inches, maybe four. The guy’s lips were turned into a smug smirk as he looked her up and down, but it wasn’t the usual smirk that boys do when they like a girl. No, this one was a cruel smirk that, for some reason, seemed familiar to Amelia. Still, he looked like an Angel.

“Who are you?” Surprisingly, when she spoke, her voice wasn’t as weak as she felt. Infact, it was quite strong considering she was just attacked by an amazingly gorgeous guy and her head was bleeding heavily.
The unknown man chuckled. The sound was surprisingly soft, so much so that it lulled Amelia into a state for serenity. “If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

Stubbornly, the teenage girl stood her ground, “Try me.”

“Fine, you asked for it,” He spat out, “I am the King of Hell.” He said it with such conviction and truth in his voice.
“You’re right, I don’t believe you.” In actual fact though, Amelia did - she could see it now. Lucifer argued with her, saying that she did. He knew.

“Now, Hope, it’s story time. get comfortable.” The Devil ordered as if talking with a child, which in a sense, compared to him, Amelia was. She did as she was told; she was afraid that is she didn’t, he would hurt her.
“I’m not Hope.”
“Of course you are!” He denied quickly as he sat on her plush bed as she sat leaning against her window. “You just don’t know it yet,”

“Well explain it then!”
“All in due time, Hope.” Once again, Satan chuckled, “Now, story time.”

“Once upon a-”

“Stop, just stop, okay!” Amelia demanded, “‘Once upon a time’ is too cheesy.”
“Once upon a time, God created a new being, before humans. An Angel. Myself. He called me Lucifer and many followed after me. He demanded our unwavering love and adoration - we could love nothing else. So we loved Him, we sat on our perches around Him, myself being closest to him - his most trusted servant, others were below me. We were happy; God’s light lit our meadow, engulfed us in it’s warmth, made us proud to be what we were, what some still are.

“There was one particular Angel below me, he was created just a few years after myself, I hated him with all of my being. I don’t know why - I just did. He wasn’t like the other Angels, he was more independent, more humane, you would say. Of course, he loved and worshipped your God, he did everything the Lord asked of him but...well I’m still not sure, even now.”

“Who was he?” Curious, Amelia asked, resting her head on her hand. She watched as Lucifer sat there for a second, unmoving.

“Demetri.” He answered simply. The teenage girl nodded and told him to carry on with the story.

“Then one day, both Demitri and the Lord left. The meadow was cold and dark without God’s light to keep up warm and able to see clearly. Heaven was a battlefield after just a few days. Other lower Angels argued and fought amongst one another. But I watched. I saw God create your kind, I saw Him speak with Demetri about something that I have long since forgotten. I was jealous, overly so. But soon after, they both returned; Heaven was still a mess.

God saw that some of us were unsure that He still loved us as he doted on Adam and Eve. I watched as He looked over us with such disappointment in His eyes. I’d had enough. I decided to go against my Creator.

I told him that I did not want to follow him - I wanted my own kingdom and I left. Soon after my departure, Angels began to Fall from Heaven to Earth, Demetri not being one of them. I saw this as my chance, I went to Earth and tempted Eve with the fruit, and I persuaded Angels to follow me; they would never get back into Heaven anyway. Of course, it was hard trying to figure out what Angels had fallen and who hadn’t and I slipped up a few times at first. Then I realized, the Fallen’s wings were broken, torn and burned. Not long after that, I had a large following and I made Hell.”

For a few minutes, Amelia sat there in silence, digesting the information, “Why did you tell me this?”
“It will all become clear soon, don’t you worry about that, Hope.” The Devil stated with a smile. A smile, a real smile. “Now I have to go; I left my Kingdom with my Son and I don’t completely trust him to watch over Hell for long if I’m honest.”

“Damian.” The girl whispered as she sat, she still hadn’t moved and her back and neck were beginning to hurt.

“Yes, you could always come back with me, you know.” The Father of Lies offered, “You could side with me and Hell. In return, you can have my son and one day rule Hell once I am too tired to do so.”

Taken aback, Amelia declined, why would she side with Hell? “You should go; I’m tired.”
“As you wish but I won’t stop asking.” The Devil commented with a smirk, “Oh and you shouldn’t sleep; you may have concussion.” With that, and no other sound, the King of Hell was gone and Amelia was left confused once again.

As soon as Amelia recovered from the shock of having an intruder in the house, a painful throbbing pulsed in her head from when she had been launched at the wall. Hand on head, the girl stood from the floor, encountering a wave of dizziness from standing up too quickly and staggered to her ensuite bathroom.

Looking in the mirror, the female was sickened at what she saw. All of her forehead was caked in crimson blood and more still leaked from the cut on her head. It would probably need stitched. Wincing, she dabbed the wound with a wet cloth before pressing it completely to her head. Once she was sure that i had stopped bleeding, she removed the cloth and cleaned her head of any blood. Soon enough, no blood lingered on her head or in her hair but she would need to get to hospital soon to get the cut stitched.

“Jamie!”

Thankfully, the country lanes hadn’t been too saturated the night before so they could still drive on it. Despite the average London traffic, the siblings got to London Hospital in record time. They waited longer than it took to drive to the hospital.

“You alright, Amy?” The soft voice of her brother asked over the bustle of the infirmary as the two waited patiently in the Accident and Emergency.
“Yeah, I’m fine, I just have a huge gash, that will probably need stitches, on my head.” Amelia snapped unknowingly at Jamie.
“Sorry I asked.”  Looking at the ground, he muttered back. The girl, feeling bad, apologised for snapping and laid her head on her brother’s shoulder.
“How long do you think they’ll be?” Tiredly, Amelia questioned with a yawn.
Jamie shrugged, “How did you even do that any way, Amy?”
“I ran into the corner of my bathroom door.” She lied, looking down away from her brother’s scrutinising look.
“We’ll talk about it later.”
Amelia was about to ask why when a doctor called her name and the two were led to a cubical.

“How did this happen, Amelia?” The doctor questioned as the girl sat on the lumpy bed  and let the physician lift the gauze from her head.
“I ran into the corner of my door.”
The doctor, who’s name was Martha Smith, jotted something down on her clipboard and went back to examining the laceration. “And is this your boyfriend?”
At this, the two siblings balked and stared at the practitioner as if they were traumatised at her statement. “N-no, he’s my brother.” Amy managed to choke out over the shock.

Blushing at her assumption, Dr. Smith explained, “It’s just that you look nothing alike, sorry.” The two teenagers shook it off to ease the good doctor’s embarrassment. “Right, so this will only need a few stitches and I’ll get a nurse to do that.” Swiftly, she left the room.

As soon as the door swung shut, Jamie and Amelia burst out laughing. But their laughing fit was short lift; a few moments later, a nurse came in with a steel trolley.

“I can’t believe I can’t wash my hair for a week!” Amelia muttered as she and her brother drove down the winding country road that turned onto their road.
“Just wear a hat for school or something.” Jamie suggested but his sister stubbornly shook her head telling him no and that his idea was stupid. “You know, my job is to protect you from guys and to break any guy that breaks your heart. I’m not a target for verbal abuse.”
“You’re the closest thing to me right now so I’ll verbally abuse you all I like, idiot.”
Her brother frowned and parked the car in the garage connected to their house.

“I’m going to go read!” Amelia informed her brother as she rushed up the stairs to her room. Once she’s shut the door, the girl went straight to her bedside table and took ‘Great Expectations’ in her hand whilst collapsing onto her bed. She loved this book and had read it so many times that she had lost count. As her eyes scanned the pages, they began to feel droopy and Amy was suddenly asleep.

“Hope!” A woman shouted from her left, her voice was frantic as if there was something about to attack the girl. “Get back, Angel!” Looking to her other side, Amelia could see that there was, in fact, something charging towards her at an unimaginable speed. A horse...with red orbs for eyes. A demon horse. Diving out of the path of the demon steed, Amy rolled a few times before coming to a stop a few meters away from where she had just been stood.

A pair of hands helped lift her back to her feet. “Abi in malam pestem!” The same woman yelled but Amelia had no idea what it mean. Either way, the Demon Horse vanished into thin air.
“Who are you?”
“Oh my dear Hope, you’ve grown so much.” The young woman didn’t answer the question straight away, “I am Marie Hollins, your mother.”
“What? No, you can’t be. Laura Thomas is my mother.” She denied, “And my name is Amelia.”
“No it isn’t - I should know, I did name you.” Maria stated matter-of-factly, “Your name is Hope Angelica Pierce.” Amelia begged the stranger to stop but she carried on as if she hadn’t heard the despaired girl. “You were born October eighteenth, nineteen-ninety-eight.”
“How did you know?”

“Like I said, Angel, I’m your mother, though I was killed when you were a few months old on January fifteenth.” Maria answered with a sympathetic look.

“It’s true, Hope, I was there.” Another voice, this one male and very familiar to Amelia, the shadowed figure.
“Who are you?” Desperate, the teenage girl asked again since he had not answered the night before.
“Once again, you need not know my name just yet.” He stated and Amelia glared at him coldly, “This is your birth mother, Lucifer killed her.”
“Lucifer? Oh!”
“Yes him. I believe you had an encounter with him today.” Despite not being able to see him clearly, Amy could tell that the figure was giving her a hard look - she could feel it. “I have to go, oh and happy Birthday, Hope Angelica.”

Breathing heavily, Amelia shot up out of bed, knocking her book on the ground, and broke down into a flood of tears. “I’m going crazy!” She repeated over and over until her door slammed open to reveal Jamie clad in only a pair of jeans.
Wrapping his strong arms around his distraught sister, the boy comforted her,“Shh...it’s okay.” But it didn’t seem to work; she was having a panic attack. Sprinting to the bathroom, he filled a glass with water and returned to Amy, making her drink the water down whilst telling her to breath slowly.
“It was just a nightmare. And you weren’t supposed to sleep, Amy!” The male scolded disapprovingly as he helped the girl out of her room.

“I couldn’t help it, I was tired!” Just as Amelia spoke, the two siblings heard the door open and close and their mother shout out to them. Their  parents were home.

How were they going to explain the girl’s head and bruises?

“What happened to you?” John questioned as soon as the two teenagers entered the front room. Amelia shrunk away from her father’s probing gaze.
“She ran into the corner of her door.” Jamie answered simply and their parents raised their eyebrows, “We were playing tig.” He lied.

“We were bored so...yeah.” Amy backed her older brother up. However, they both knew that Laura and John didn’t believe them.

Their father loosened his tie and rubbed his face with his hand, “Did you really think we wouldn’t find out? I work at the hospital!”
“Sorry, Dad.” The two siblings chorused, heads down in guilt and apology.
“You two need to get ready.” Their mother announced, “We’re going out for Amelia’s birthday.”

Dressed in a floor length red dress, Amelia descended the great staircase down the hall, where her parents and brother were waiting patiently for her. Her hair was half-up-half-down and curled slightly and came to just past her shoulders this way. Her face was down with light make-up and a shock of red lipstick.
“Devil’s colour.” Laura spat out in disapproval of her daughter’s whole outfit.

Amy smiled, “Fifteen, mum.” The older woman only grimaced, keeping her comments to herself.

“You look lovely, Amy.” John grinned up at her with glistening tears in his brown eyes. “My baby girl’s grown up so fast.”
Not wanting her father to cry, Amelia hugged him tightly, “I’ll always be your little girl. Always.” She promised him.

He has a point, Amy, you do look more grown up.” Jamie stated, “Different almost.” He frowned and the girl swapped from their father to her brother.
“Don’t worry, I'm still me, still Amelia.” She muttered to him.

No, you’re Hope. You know that now. You are different. A voice in her head sneered at her, You never were Amelia - you've always been Hope!

“Let’s go before it starts raining again.” John suggested and the whole family agreed, “Amelia, get your coat.” Quickly, the girl did as she was told. As soon as her coat was on, the family was out the door and on the way to the restaurant for the dinner.

Amelia’s friends were joining them at the restaurant and Jamie had invited his girlfriend along. Due to this, the family stopped off at Myra’s house to pick her up.

When Jamie and his girlfriend got back to the car, Amelia was thankfully not squashed between the two lovers. Making a gagging noise as the two kissed, she rolled her eyes to her mother, who silently chuckled in the front of the car. Despite her slight disgust, the girl couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy; She’d never even been locked at the way Jamie and Myra looked at each other never mind kissed!

“Can I take your order?” The waiter asked from behind Amelia as she and her friends and family looked over their menus.
“Erm...I’ll have the tandoori chicken, please.” Laura ordered and in turn, the whole family did.
“And you, miss?” The male questioned and when she didn’t answer straight away, he offered, “May I suggest the salmon, miss. It is quite divine.”
“Then I shall have that and a lemonade please.” Finally, the girl decided and looked upon the waiter with a warm smile.

Her heart stopped.

A wave of right of fear washed over her and she felt all of the blood drain from her face.

For the second time that day, Amelia looked upon his face.