Forgotten Self (Forgotten Self #1) (15 page)

Lucas and Jonathan didn't come around the whole day. A whole day to myself – it was nice. I got home after school and watched three movies in a row, eating popcorn and drinking Diet Coke. In fact, by the end
of the night all of my depressing insights and worries had gone. I skipped over any notions of homework – that was pretty normal – and headed upstairs to snooze the rest of the night away.

I snuggled deep under my covers and got comfy. As soon as everythin
g else felt perfect, the light bothered me. God, why couldn't they invent psychic light switches? I threw off my covers and sat up. And found that I wasn't alone.

Death was back.

This time I knew it wasn't just a memory. He was here.

“
Hello, Abigail.” A t
all man, dressed in normal clothing – jeans and a nice button-down – was sitting on my bed next to me. I didn't know how I knew it was him, but I knew. He didn't look scary at all; he looked like a nice, thirty-ish guy. Forgettable, even, other than the po
werful presence that invisibly surrounded him.

Well, I'd add that little note into my danger files: not all scary people look scary.

“
What are you doing here?” I asked bluntly, not moving a muscle.

He smiled, a gentle smile that spoke of countless eons of
being
. “You don't need to be afraid of me, Abigail. Although, I think that the concept of danger not always bearing an obvious appearance should have been known t
o you by now.
”

Ah.

He could hear my thoughts.

“
Right - you're right.” I swallowed uncomfortab
ly. “I have to admit that I don't remember you at all.”

“
I am aware. You have undertaken this mortal...punishment several times now. Without my approval, obviously.” Death lightly shook his head. “Those archangels. They do not understand the far-reaching c
onsequences of what they do. It is unfortunate that their Father isn't around to guide them, or rather, reign them in.”

I pulled myself up so I was leaning against the headboard. “Where did He go?”

Death looked down at me with a wry expression. “He has lef
t His creations to their own devices,” was all he said. He continued to hold my gaze, making me even more uncomfortable, if that was possible.

“
Um, so you haven't told me why you're here.”

His eyes crinkled as he smiled again. God, he looked so normal. “Al
ways impatient, my Abigail. But you are right, we should get on with things. I do not spend much time here.” He looked around at my room distastefully. “It is not my world.”

“
Are you going to make me an angel again?” I didn't know if I was hopeful or appre
hensive when I asked this. I had two Abigails inside of me now. Things weren't always consistent.

“
No.”

A frown instantly formed on my face. “What? But you're Death. Aren't you like a higher power or something?”

Death chuckled. It should've been more creep
y than it was.

“
I am,” he responded. “But just because I can return you doesn't mean I will.”

“
Wha – why?” I was confused.

He gave me a sort of amused, reproving look. “Now, now,  Abigail. I am not able to share fate's
road map, so to speak.”

             
Actually, I
hadn't known that. “Why are you here, then?”

Death's expression grew very serious and I immediately felt the chill I'd expected from him earlier. The temperature seemed to drop all around me. Now he wasn't so normal.

“
I am here to warn you, child. Soon yo
u will have to choose between two paths. One will lead you to victory, the other to failure. The road may not be clear, but you must choose correctly. All of this,” he arbitrarily gestured around us, “depends on that.”

“
I thought you weren't able to share
'fate's road map'.”

The chill receded from the room and Death's eyes brightened slightly. “It does not mean I cannot share a little insider information with my favorite.”

His
favorite
? That just turned the pressure dial to high.

“
I'm not going to comment
on how cliched fate's path is – for now. But seriously?” I raised my eyebrows in amazement; he merely smiled. “You aren't going to tell me anymore than what you already have, are you?” Just confirming. When he raised
his
eyebrows, I remembered that he coul
d hear what I was thinking. So that answered that. “But what about you?”

“
What about me?”

“
I mean, if the world's – and heaven's – fate is so tenuous right now, why can't you do anything? Aren't you worried?”

His voice was mild. “No. As I have said, this i
s not my world. It does not affect me. I am
outside
of all of this.”

“
Why do you care, then? I mean, why do you care what happens here?”

Death leaned closer then, looking intently into my eyes and laying a comforting hand on mine. “God did not create me, c
hild. I am the universe's one constant. Where there is creation there must be demise and I serve that purpose. There are many higher beings, and God is not the only one with children.”

I blinked and he was gone.

I sat in my bed for a long time, not mov
ing, barely breathing. What had I just been told? That Death was my creator? I mean, I guess I'd already known that, but hearing it from the man himself was a whole 'nother enchilada. The repulsion I expected didn't come. Instead, a feeling of
right
came o
ver me. It felt right. But these feelings being stirred up inside of me were unsettling – I was still the high school student from Maine.

The steadiness I once felt as a blissfully ignorant human was wavering. I felt nauseous.  It was almost as intense as
the wheezing that now took over my lungs. Later I would be surprised that I hadn't experienced this sort of physical reaction to my situation before. But for now I was going to be sick.

I ran to the bathroom and shut the door and locked it. Then I threw up
into the toilet; tears streamed involuntarily down my cheeks. I spit acid out of my mouth when I finished and flushed. The cool water from the sink I splashed onto my face helped a little bit, but the tightness in my chest remained. I needed something.

A
sharp knock sounded at the door. “Abby, are you okay?” Lucas.

I spit out the mouth wash I'd been swishing and replied, “Yep. All good in here.”

When had he even gotten here?

“
Alright...” Lucas said hesitantly, unconvinced. “Do you need anything?”

I suppo
rted my shaky arms on the bathroom counter. “Just to be alone.”

I could hear him walk away and down the stairs. After giving him a moment to get back to whatever he'd been doing, I quietly opened the bathroom door and lightheadedly made my way into my pare
nts' bedroom.

It was cold, sterile in here. The bed was perfectly made, the pictures of me perfectly set on the dresser, and a light layer of dust covered all the flat surfaces. The bathroom door was open and I stumbled in, reaching for the medicine cabin
et. Cha-ching. Having a physician for a father really helped out in the drug department. Had I taken advantage of this selling-wise, I could've had a small fortune. But I was a good girl at heart.

Mostly.

I scanned through the labels on the bottles. When
I saw Percocet I immediately grabbed the full container. It was prescribed to my mom after some minor surgery; I guess she'd never used it. I twisted the child-safety top off and popped four or five. There. Maybe that would relieve some of my anxiety. I ga
ve it a few minutes before I shoved the bottle into my pocket and walked downstairs.

“
Are you okay?” Lucas repeated when he saw me.

I plopped heavily down on the couch. “I guess. Nice of you to show up, by the way. Don't worry about knocking or calling or
anything.”

“
I figured we'd be past that by now.”

I pursed my lips. “Ah-huh. Well, I've been told many a time that I have quite the punch, so watch it next time. You might surprise me and who knows what could happen.” A calming feeling was drifting in, slow
ly. Just the beginnings of it.

He smirked. “I've felt that punch before and I've only ever barely noticed it. It's practically a caress.”

I flipped him off. “Whatever, Hulk Hogan.” The couch had started feeling quite comfortable. Everything felt pretty go
od, actually. How could I ever have had an anxiety attack before? It was all good. I settled into the pillows.

“
But in all seriousness, Abby, do you want to talk about something?”

I sighed contentedly. “Not really.”

Lucas gave me a strange look, but conced
ed. “Alright. We'll wait until Jonathan returns to come up with a game plan. But we need to leave town soon.”

“
Mm-hmm.” I was barely listening, drifting around in my own head, daydreaming of pleasant things that did not include angels or demons or Death.

L
ucas didn't say anything else and we both sat there in silence. It wasn't more than ten minutes before Jonathan showed up.

“
Hey,” he greeted us awkwardly after appearing in the middle of the room.

“
What's up?” The words floated out of my mouth. Jonathan's
look at me mimicked Lucas' earlier one. “Where you been?”

“
Thinking,” he replied simply.

I arched an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? You decide you're with us, then?” And then, “I seem to recall at least two times that you weren't.”

Jonathan's eyes went wide.

“
What a
re you talking about, Abigail?” Lucas asked after a moment.

I sat up with a sloppy smile on my face. “Oh, you know. Remember when I was in Spain? Oh,” I put a hand to my chest dramatically, “what a wonderful time. But then,” I pointed an accusing finger at
Lucas, “you came around and
reminded
me. And
you
,” now my finger redirected itself at Jonathan, “you messed it all up. Couldn't keep your feelings for me out of it. You two pushed and pulled and twisted me.” I leaned back onto the pillows. “It really was
a good thing that you left,
Jonny
.” His name came out in a not so nice way.

“
And then London. What was my name?” These words spilled out of me without direction. I had no recollection of any of this, it just came out in a slur. “Uh, gosh. The years go by..
.Oh, yes! It was Elizabeth. My fool of a father thought his daughter's royal name would bring him good fortune. Now
that
life, that life I didn't mind leaving. But once again, Jonathan and Lucas couldn't keep it together.” I didn't think I was even address
ing them at this point. Propping my head on my hand, I continued
nonetheless. “Bah, but what does it really matter? Jonathan bailed 'cause he couldn't handle the fact that I didn't want him. End of story. So you see, that's
what I'm talking about
.”

The roo
m was quiet. Soon Jonathan stiffly exited the room. Lucas came to my side and held my hand.

“
What did you take, Abby?” he asked sternly.

I squinted my eyes at him. “I didn't steal anything. Not since that lollipop in second grade.”

His eyes searched me un
til they came upon the bottle-shaped lump in my pocket. I gave no resistance as he pulled it out. I was floating again.

He read the label. “Ah geez, Abby. Narcotics?”

That caught my attention. I stuck a finger into his chest. “It's better than that lollip
op.”

Lucas sighed and shut his eyes for a moment. “What happened?” But I didn't reply because I wasn't listening anymore. He opened his eyes and placed a hand on my cheek.

“
Abby,” he called my name. But his voice wasn't like normal. There was something els
e behind it. I focused my eyes on him. He was glowing brightly.

“
What?” I asked dumbly, some part of my mind thinking I should close the blinds. Damn sun.

The glowing light engulfed me and it felt good, it felt familiar – there was warmth here. Too soon
it left me and I felt...not high. I felt deflated. He'd done his angel thing and rid my body of the Percocet. I rubbed my face with frustrated hands. All the anxiety rushed back with a vengeance.