It's a crystal. Nothing more. But if you turn it this way and look into it, it will show you your dreams.
Meagan needed a coke.
Meagan needed a lot of things; She needed Michael to call her, she needed him to not break up with her. She needed her parents to come back from vacation, and she needed somebody to ask if she was okay, so that she could tell them to go away and leave her alone. But mostly, right now, she needed a coke.
Meagan took this as an overall improvement to the night, because, since she started the movie and thought about needing a coke, she hadn't thought about Michael.
The thought of Michael losing place to a coke made her cry again. She cried somewhere between the kitchen fridge and the wide screen in the den. Right about where the back doors were.
It was a good cry, and lasted several minutes, before, with a sad sniff and a wet sleeve, the cry ended. Meagan stood from her spot in front of the glass double doors, and got on with getting herself a coke. There was something magical about cola drinks, they fizzed and popped a misty spray onto Meagan's upper lip. when it got into her mouth it only got better. She could almost describe it as a smooth, cool burn. It was a good thing.
Meagan, with her can of coke, began back to the den, and the movie. However just between the now closed kitchen fridge, and the motionless movie image in the den, Meagan heard a knock. At the front door.
It was a very specific type of knock. Not the pounding of a fist. Rather it was an urgent rapping. As if made by the mid-knuckles of fingers. Meagan didn't move right away, it wasn't Michael's knock, and she would have ignored completely it if the knocker hadn't been so persistent.
"All right, hold up," in a dramatic huff, Marched marched to the front door, "Christ, is somebody dying."
Meagan unlocked and opened the door to see what all the fuss was about. The knocker pushed the door in. Meagan found herself being pulled to the floor as the door shut behind the man.
"Stay down," he held her as he pressed himself against the the door, "and be quite."
"Please don't hurt me mister," She struggled against him, as he pulled her tightly to him.
"You'll be fine, just stay calm," he whispered into her ear. The words moved through Meagan's body like a warmth. She felt peace spread through her. Her breathing slowed, and her muscles relaxed. The two sat by the door, the man mumbling a quite refrain.
"Hey," he whispered to her after a few minutes, "I'll be needing those back," the man nodded with his head to his legs. Meagan stood up from his lap, and watched him as he began to peer through the narrow windows of etched glassed by the door.
The man looked older, white haired. possibly at the end of middle aged or near the start of elderly. What struck Meagan as most peculiar was the the shiny blue gown that covered his stout frame, and the feathered costume wings strapped to his back.
"Sorry if gave you a scare there, but I'll be needing to stay here until sun up, I don't think going back out again will be safe for a while."
"Do you mind telling me why you barged into my house?"
He kept looking out of the window, "Sorry, something was chasing me."
"what like a dog, or something?"
He shook his head, "dogs don't chase me, I'm an angel."
"I should have guessed, the wings are a dead giveaway."
His peering ended, leaving a look of concern pursed on his lips, "no, these are fake, I'm in disguise," he said as he took the wings off and made for the kitchen, "Do you have anything to drink? I'm David by the way."
Meagan followed, "That's great, look, you can't stay here, okay," David didn't answer. Instead he opened the fridge pulled out a coke, and began to drink.
"Hey, didn't you hear me? I said, you can't stay."
David held up a finger asking for a chance to swallow before he answered, "Look, I could just as easily tie you up and stay here all night without asking, but I'd rather we get along for the while I'm here."
"Angels normally tie up seventeen year old girls?"
"When we have to," David finished his coke and this time got some water instead.
Meagan pulled up a seat at the kitchen island, resting her head on her hand. She watched David.
"Hey, labyrinth," he pointed to the screen, " great movie."
"So why are you disguised as an angel?"
"I'm not," he said in a manner of fact, "this is a costume, I was actually trying to come off as a human."
"I didn't know humans normally dress in angel costumes," Meagan had never met a crazy person before, She always thought that a psycho would have been more unstable, more crazy. But this David seemed harmless.
"When they go to costume parties they might, it was kind of a hide in plain site type of thing," David walked across the room, "do you have a TV down stairs?"
He was a little nuts, but Meagan liked him, he reminded her of her dad, if her dad had a ten year old's understanding of sarcasm, "Why?"
He looked out of the windows and doors at the back of the house, "I'm not really comfortable up here, the thing chasing me might decide to have a look into the house, I'd rather it not know that you were helping me."
Paranoid too. This was kind of neat.
Meagan was glad for the company, just some nice guy, who was a little senile.
She went and took the movie out of the DVD player, and put it on in the basement. the two sat, watching, eating popcorn, making comments about the movie, about David Bowie, until finally David asked her.
"So what happened? I mean, it seems like you've been putting of thinking about something, and when I got here I could have sworn you'd been crying."
Meagan wasn't sure that she wanted to talk about it, but now that it was on her mind she couldn't help but spill the story. She told David about Michael and her, about him leaving her for another girl, about her cheating on him a couple times, but he had no idea. She swore. A lot came out, how much she needed him, how much she knew she couldn't trust him. What did he mean 'HE couldn't trust her', she asked, he left her for some fucking slut. David listened, agreeing with her every few minutes with an appropriate, "I can't believe it," or the occasional "fuck him."
Meagan was surprised how understanding David was. he listened. Not like Michael. he was funny and confident. He seemed younger than before too. Now that she had been sitting with him and could see him in a better light than before she saw that he wasn't as old as she first took him for. He was actually middle aged guy, and a bit burly. His light blonde hair needed a little styling, but it was cute, as if he could have been sexy if he really thought about it.
She was glad that he showed up that night. She was glad that they talked. He had threatened to tie her up, though. She thought about that. It reminded her that there was something dangerous about him. She thought about how things would have gone if he had tied her up. Images of him holding her body down, the rope around her wrists, around her chest. She imagined herself lying helpless across the coffee table, her knees against the hard wood floors.
"Are you okay?" David asked.
Oh my god, she thought. She had been blushing, and David had seen. She covered her face with her hands, mostly to hide the smile that spread from ear to ear.
"Uh oh," he said smiling, "Did I weird you out? maybe I should have tied you up to begin with?"
"Maybe you should have?" she smiled, and found herself biting her lip.
He just looked at her. It made her nervous and excited, "Do you want me to kiss you," he asked.
Meagan didn't say anything, she just bit harder on her lip as David moved closer, his lips parting. When he was only inches away she threw herself at him, her lips against his lips, pushing her tongue to find his tongue.
His arms pulled off her top, and pressed her down onto her back. She realized as his hands grabbed the elastic of her pajama pants, pulling down, that he could have broke her in half if he wanted to. She wanted to feel him inside her...
There was knock at the door.
"Fuck, ignore it, just ignore it," his hot breath brushed past her ear.
"Uh-huh," she moaned, as his hand rubbed the lips between her legs.
"Excuse me," both Meagan and David yelped, jumping off of each other. As quick as she could, with the nearest pillow, Meagan hid herself from the man sitting in the rocking chair.
"By all means continue, I was just wondering when you'd be done." The man's baby blue dress shirt shone from within his dark, black and blue pinstriped suit and metallic blue tie.
"Raz..." David stopped in the middle of the word, glancing at Meagan, "Milton, look I'm sorry, but I'll tell you where I stashed it."
"David," The man on the couch, Milton, was calm, his movements were fluid, "We already know where you hid the heart, finding it isn't why I'm here."
"Please mister I don't know what's going on," Meagan didn't want to be involved in this, the look of terror on David's face told her that she didn't.
"Miss," The man called Milton didn't look at her, "your role in this little drama has no lines," he said nothing else and just looked at david. Waiting.
"Milton," David tried to make his voice sound stern. It didn't, "you can't touch me, you have no idea what kind of hell will come down if you..."
"Don't speak to me of hell," Milton cut David off, "the only things you know of hell are the rumor's you've heard from your perch, but don't worry," Milton threw a manila folder at David's feet, "you'll have a better idea of things soon enough."
David stared at the folder, "what is that?"
"That, David, is a discharge, you see the heavenly host has been watching your exploits more intently than even we have, and in response to some of your most recent activities you have been deemed fallen."
"Bullshit," Davids voice was indignant, "This is bullshit."
"You've lost the protection of heaven, which would normally endear you to my heart, but since you've been such a repeated pain in my ass, I think I'll just let you find out about hell the way the humans do, First things first..."
"Milton please, I can help, I have information..."
"Let's get you out of those clothes."
Meagan screamed when she heard the gunshot. Cringing behind the pillow that was her only protection. She grit her teeth, this couldn't be happening, she thought, Why was this happening to her.
"Come on," came Milton's voice. It was gentle and quite, "Come on."
Meagan peaked over the pillow, thinking he was talking to her. He wasn't. Meagan found the man named Milton kneeling close over David. David lay there lifeless as Milton held a small jar near Davids mouth. He made a waving motion with his other hand, as if he was waving the air over David's lips into the jar.
Meagan began to cry as she watched Milton close the jar and walk up the stairs, without looking back at her.
She couldn't move. She curled up behind her pillow, her eyes fixed on the still bleeding body of David. He looked old again, his hair was gray, his face showed the wrinkles she had seen before.
Eventually Meagan would run from her house, to her neighbors', or to Michael's. The police would be called and she would be questioned. She would not be told David's identity or why the police found the case and the man so puzzling. But that wouldn't be for hours yet. for the time being Meagan huddled, curled up behind a pillow looking over at the dead angel David.
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