The Guardian Angel

The beginning of Dakota's story and her struggles with losing her mom.

   At fifteen Dakota broke apart.  It just took those four simple words: “Your mom is dead.” to break her to pieces.  She died in a car crash; a very deadly one.  The moment the words hit Dakota’s ears, it felt like half her heart had died with her mom in that crash with a giant piece of the windshield stuck in it.  She was left with her step dad, David, for the next four years.  She never liked him, even if he was there more than her real dad.  He always seemed so arrogant and absorbed in anything but her.  He never struck her as anything more than a hard-working man who could never love anyone else but her mom and himself.  That day they received news of her mom’s death, Dakota let him see her cry because she loved her mom like a sister and not showing some emotion at the loss of her felt like she was dishonoring her, like a terrible sin.  Even if she wanted to hide it, she couldn’t.  The pain in her chest, like her heart, was tearing itself to pieces, the fire behind her eyes, the stone in her throat, the emptiness in her soul; it all was too strong for her to hold back for when she could be alone in her room and David wouldn’t see it.  That day, four years ago, was the first day David had ever held her.  It was the first day she’d let him touch her without cursing him for doing so.

 

   The day of the funeral was the second time Dakota had seen her true father.  He didn’t say anything to her, only one guy as he walked up to her mom’s casket. He stood by the casket, not shedding a tear or showing any emotion. And only touched her mom’s stiff, gray face once before turning away.  When he saw Dakota, there was a flicker of recognition in his bright blue eyes.  He still didn’t say a word.  He simply walked out, his back rigid, his jaw set.  

 

   One year later, Dakota didn’t recover the slightest.  She never dealt with David unless she had to, and he seemed to be okay with that.  She wondered why he even stuck with her.  Her mom isn’t there anymore, he could just move on.  He could find another woman to marry and completely forget about Dakota.  However, he stayed and dealt with her shutting him out and part of her enjoyed it.  But, the joy she took in shutting away the one person she’d put up with for her mom’s sake could never overpower the emptiness in her heart that hadn’t been there a year ago.  She wanted her mom to be there to fill that empty space, to hold her in those moments when she needed her to tell her its okay, to just come back so she could be happy again instead of leaving her alone with only David.  

 

   By sixteen she gave up on just living with the pain that could never go away.  David caught her in the act that was the only thing that she could find to distract her from the pain and confronted her about it.  As always she shut him out.  He couldn’t understand the pain she felt, the pain that swelled within her to the point where it replaced the empty hole that had been her heart.  Just like the scars that had become part of her skin.  

 

   But, as the days wore on, the blade would only graze her skin and a frustrating calm took her over each time, only making the tears spill down her cheeks.  The cutting was like her drug, her heroin.  If she didn’t do it, the pain would come back and tear her apart.  She begged whatever was stopping her from cutting away the pain in her heart to leave her alone and let her drown.  It only ended with her falling on her bed, her tears coming slower and sleep taking her away the way she wished death would.  She soon figured out she wasn’t stopping herself from cutting, it was someone else.  It was something she knew no one would understand.  If she told someone, they’d think she’d gone insane so, she kept her mouth shut.  As it was, she didn’t fully believe herself.   

 

   She took note of the whispers when she felt the frustrating calm take her over, the gentle touch of warm skin on her cheek like a caress in the seconds before she would fall asleep.  She eventually knew what it was, yet she said nothing and did nothing to alert anyone about it.  She left it alone.  The things she took note of were all she needed though; she was tempted to see it for herself.  

 

   Then, the day she feared came.  The day David would have enough of her avoiding him and shutting him out.  The day David would act like any father would when he’d had enough of his daughter’s hollowness and wanted her to finally move on. The day David would act as if he cared about anything Dakota did to herself or to him.  She had never fully decided what she would do when the day came though, she always half-expected it to come.  Dakota always figured she would find a way to block him out when and if it did.

 

   She’d just come home from school when the moment came.  She had her earbuds in, music playing full blast.  It was her favorite band Abandon All Ships with Heaven.  She came through the front door and looked up to see David standing there.  He was out of his work clothes and dressed casual, like he was going to take her somewhere.  His arms were folded across his broad chest, his hazel eyes focused on her dark form just inside the door.  It finally struck her how tall he was compared to her.  She might as well have been a midget.  He simply stared at her as she stared back Heaven still blasting away her hearing.  It would be the best accomplishment in my life if I lost my hearing.  Especially to Abandon All Ships, Dakota thought morbidly.  He was waiting for her to take out her earbuds, she knew it.  But, she wouldn’t, he knew that.  

   He motioned for her to take them out, mouthing the words.  She stared at him blankly to show that she doesn’t answer to him and wouldn't.  He looked at her patiently and mouthed, “Now, please, Dakota.”  She stood her ground.  He came forward, towering over her and plucked the earbud from her ear, allowing the hiss of more Abandon All Ships to flow from her earbud.  The silence of the house rang in her deafened ears.  David plucked the other earbud from her ear and laid them around her neck like rope.  He slid his hand under her black hood and pushed it back, off her head.   

 

   “Since when did you think it was okay for you to touch me?” Dakota snapped.

   “Since I figured that I shouldn’t let you keep hurting yourself like this.  The cutting, the deafening music, the anorexia, shutting me out.  Koda-”

   He’d crossed the line.  Only her mom had ever called her Koda.  The nickname coming from David was like poison to the air and made her cringe.

   “Don’t call me that.” she snapped.  “Don’t ever use that name for me.  It belonged to her and only her.  I don’t care who you are to her or to anyone.”

   “My point is, you need to stop this.  You need to move on.  Everyone else has, you can too.” he continued.

   “You didn’t know her like I did.  You didn’t know her long enough to love her like I do.  Moving on is not an option for me.  Even if it was, I would never because it would feel like I was abandoning her.  She is part of me dead or alive, unlike you.” Dakota whispered.  

   “What did I ever do to you to make you hate me?  Did I say something, do something to you?  What?”  David asked.  “If I did, I’m sorry.  Okay?  Your mom would want you to move on and live your life.  She’d want you to do something amazing with your life not slowly kill yourself.”  

   “If you don’t like what I’m doing then, leave.  I didn’t want you here anyway, in case you didn’t notice.  I don’t care what you say about what my mom quote-on-quote wants for me.  She’s dead.  You can’t tell me how to live with it.”

 

   With that she shoved by him, shoving her earbuds back in her ears and ran upstairs to her room slamming the door behind her.  She pushed her thin hands up into her hair as the memories of her mom crashed down on her and she turned quick as a bolt of lightning and locked her door so David couldn’t come in.  If he did she’d cut him with the blade.  She wouldn’t hesitate.  

 

   She remembered lying beside her mom on the lush green grass of the park by their old house, looking up at the blue, cloudless sky.  The scents of different foods from the nearby shops wafting through the air, the insects flying by their heads.  She remembered looking at her mom, the sunlight making a glow around her.  She remembered thinking how pretty her mom was compared to her.  She had the same brown hair as Dakota, only in curls; she had given Dakota the same bright green eyes.  But, she always had this kind, open look, like nothing could ever stop her from being happy and that was the one thing Dakota didn’t get from her.  Dakota had the same thin face as her mom but, she’d gotten the cold looks from her father.  She looked predatory not pretty.  Only now that Dakota was starved, scarred, and tortured by pain and loss, she looked more broken and sad than pretty.  

 

   She remembered her mom’s smile, beautiful and as common as sunny days in July.  She remembered her laugh, beautiful as a bird’s song.  She remembered her face when she’d brought David over to meet Dakota.  She’d smiled like he was the most beautiful person in the world and had this light in her eyes Dakota had never seen.  She’d known in that moment that her mom was truly happy and could never stomach the feeling of taking that away from her no matter how she felt about David.  She remembered days when her mom would sit by her on her bed running her thin fingers through Dakota’s long brown hair, smiling to herself.  She’d tell Dakota all the beautiful things about her.  She’d remind her to never stop believing in herself and how great she could be at anything.  

 

   That’s when the tears started to fall and she dug her nails into her scalp and bit her lip trying to stifle her sobs and stop the tears.  She’d forgotten that.  She’d forgotten to hold onto the thought about believing in herself no matter what.  Stupid, she thought. Stupid, stupid.

 

  She snatched the blade off her nightstand and tried to slice into the inside of her lightly scarred inner arm and found the blade stopped just a centimeter above the soft skin.  In frustration, she gripped the blade harder, only to make her fingers bleed.  She heard the soft whispers in her deafened ears. Her hand was pulled back from her arm.  The whispers coming in over her music.  The music stopped, the sense of frustrating calm taking over, her tears coming harder.  She let out an angry sob.

 

   “Stop doing this to me!” she screamed.

 

   Her hand was pulled back by her head, her crimson blood dripping down her arm.  The whispers grew louder, a foreign language like Egyptian or Chinese, impossible to understand.  She fought against the overwhelming calm and the force pulling her arm back.  The thing was so strong, gripping her arm like steel.  She squeezed the blade harder, pain searing into her fingers, and more blood flowing down her arm, soaking her sleeves.  Then, it started to pull her shredded fingers off the blade one by one.  She growled with stifled screams of pain and frustration, the tears coming harder.  

 

   Then, when the blade was free, it flew across the room twirling end over end until it embedded itself deep in the wall near the ceiling, where she could never reach it without a ladder.  At the thought of this, the loss of her one life-sustaining thing, she sobbed and dropped to her knees freed from it.  The jolt from hitting the floor didn’t bother her in the slightest.  The blood was making her sleeve stick to her arm and drying along the palm of her hand.  The calm was gone but, she was still frustrated with it.  She buried her face in her hands, not caring about the blood still flowing from the deep gashes in her fingers that would stain her face.  

 

   She knew it was still there; watching her like it always was, night and day, like a shadow or a curious sibling.  She could feel its eyes on her raking over her back, counting the ribs that rippled her jacket, waiting for her to dart across the room and find some way to reach the blade and slice open her skin to stop the ache that was ever-present in her dead heart.  But, she didn’t.  Dakota knew it would stop her the second she tried to climb her dresser or whatever way she tried.  It would pull her off and toss her on the bed and put her to sleep.  

 

   Her hands shook and her heart’s ache pulsed in her chest, stronger than before, more painful.  She sniffled.

   “Why do you do this to me?  Kill me already!  Stop prolonging the pain for me! You’ve seen how much I’ve been through!”  She screamed to the floor.

 

 The warmth of its touch spread over her wrists, and she was gently pulled from the floor and placed on the bed as if any harsher treatment might break her.  

   “You’re meant for more.  You’re so much more than scars and a blade.”  It whispered.  “So much more.”

   The soft, deep voice was like a breeze.  So gentle and kind.  Beautiful, Dakota thought.  It surprised her to hear English from it not some foreign language.  

 

   Then, without her asking, a shimmering outline appeared by her blue wall, rainbows like you’d see when you’re spraying mist in sunlight shimmered across the surface.  It was the outline of a six foot tall man with a muscular build.  Dakota sucked in her breath but, didn’t make a sound.  Then, like a memory surfacing from the murk of a pond, he appeared.  

 

   Dakota’s eyes flew wide with surprise.  He had spiky white hair peppered with red, and an angular, beautiful face with iridescent purple eyes.  He was muscular and tattooed with black and gold - the gold markings nearly blending with his skin.  They were all biblical symbols like: the six-pointed star, the anchor, the thorns that wound around his bicep, and, of course, the cross over his heart.  He looked at her steadily, his eyes intent on hers.

 

   Then, he spread his wings.

 

   They were about fourteen to fifteen feet long and blindingly bright white.  They took up the whole space between the back wall of her room to the door spread out.  They just barely brushed against the door and the wall.  

 

  Dakota was speechless.

   But, he wasn’t.

   “Trust me when I say I know you are meant for more.  More than you know.  But, this is not what I mean.”  He gestured to the blood on her hands. “This is not your death and I won’t let it be either.  It’s my job not to let you die this way.  I’m your Guardian Angel.  My name is Sumaria.”

Reviews

[R Smith]

what a superb ending to this chapter, I felt strongly for Dakota the whole way through the chapter and wanted her to stop hurting herself that's a sign of how good and strong your writing is and the transition from the sad reality of harsh life to the ethereal being of her guardian was seamless and enjoyable, very well done Tessa :)

[Tessa Melendez]

Thank you! I actually started this off as a short story for school. A lot of the chapters in this book were. That's why it ends in a cliff hanger. The story was actually built off an image in my head from late last year that i put into play for this which had been a final project for my writing class.
I'm glad you enjoyed it and hope you will keep reading the story. I will also look into your work too.
:)

[R Smith]

You're very welcome Tessa :)

[Broken.]

Excellent writing my dear! This is captivating. I am eager to read on. (:

[Inject Positivity]

What I loved about this chapter is the detailed way of capturing the reader's mind... From the first scene you brought the intensity in the story... Dakota's pain and depression deemed unbearable and the reader can feel it... The best thing about this chapter is the way of describing the plot, you have put even the smallest details about Dakota and the situations she was going through... Her pain seemed very much alive to me... Losing the person you love the most at such a young age is very traumatic... Now about the ending, I think you took the intensity level at the top when you described Dakota was cutting her arm, and drops of blood seemed to sound on my ears... You ended the chapter with a hopeful ending that someone is going to save her life and make her realize that she have to move on with life... Her stepfather's character also looks very important to me in the story... Let's see what happens in the next one... As for this one, my hat goes off to you...

Sincerely
Dhiman

[Tessa Melendez]

Thank you very much, Dhiman. I'm glad you found an interest in the story. I hope that you will begin to develop a love for fiction much like mine.

[An owl on the moon]

In the very first lines everything changes, and the world just comes undone. What a powerful beginning to your book. And the chapter comes to a close with more dynamic revelations, such a spiritual transformation of time and place. Beautiful, rich, and deep in every way!

[Tessa Melendez]

I don't know about deep, but if that is your interpretation, I can't tell you what you think. Thank you for taking the time to read my chapter and write a kind review.

[An owl on the moon]

Looking forward to reading your whole book. Amazed at your gifts. :)

[Lydia Shutter]

Losing a parent when a girl is a teenager is an unthinkable tragedy. The fact Dakota's biological father wanted nothing to do with her is another weight on her shoulders. She really does not like her stepfather. People who cut themselves are severely disturbed. I hope Dakota gets the help she needs in the future chapters of this book. The ending of this chapter was hopeful which is nice. I, unfortunately, do not often have the time to read such long posts, but I will say this one was worth the read. Lydi**

[Tessa Melendez]

Thank you for taking the time to read a long piece such as this. I understand that some people can't find the time to read long pieces like chapters. I hope you will take the time to read some more of my chapters for this book. I would much like to find more reviews for my chapters. I assure you that you will find an answer to your question on Dakota's future.

[Teja]

It is too difficult to forget the memories and move on . You wrote it nicely that readers can feel the pain
of Dakota.. It was written with full of emotions .

[Tessa Melendez]

Thank you for your review. :)

[Kristan A. Mohammed]

What a great chapter. I especially like the first descriptions in the first paragraph. Truely amazing. I could really feel Dakota's emotions. This is really good. The ability to make your readers feel the persona's emotion is a rae gift. Great job. Keep up the good work.

[Tessa Melendez]

Thank you for your feedback! I hope you keep reading my story and I'll keep reading yours. :)