There Is Always Hope

As Amy turned around she saw a sleek, black cat sitting precariously perched on her windowsill outside. Raising an eyebrow she huffed in annoyance as she heaved herself up from her desk and approached the small animal. The cat sat, watching her; it’s vibrant green eyes shining with interest. As Amy came up to the window, the cat jumped off the windowsill, running and leaping elegantly down the fire escape. Suddenly pausing and stopping, the cat looked back at her over it’s shoulder, almost as if asking her, ‘Well? You gonna come and get me?’

Huffing, Amy shook her head. “Weird cat,” she mumbled as she closed the window. Turning away from she grabbed the remote for the TV and sprawled on the couch, clicking on the evening news as she did so. Groaning as her muscles relaxed into the unbearable soft and plump couch cushions, she listlessly watched the news report playing before her. It was more the same old same old to her. A major highway accident had caused a horrible traffic pile up on the interstate that had created long delays, and detours to be imposed in an effort to help keep the roadways clogged to a minimum. A mother had killed her two children, claiming post-partum stress; the husband crying in front of the reporters and cameras.

Just when she was about to change the channel, she paused as a story caught her attention. A man, earlier today, who had apparently cheated many people out of hundreds of thousands of dollars, died from a sack of money which came flying out nowhere. Smacking the man with enough force that he lost his balance, causing him to fall backwards, and smacking into the concrete killing him instantly. Witnesses had claimed that the bag of money had seemingly appeared, “out of nowhere,” and that later when police had arrived the same money bag was nowhere to be found.

Amy raised her eyebrows at the irony of the whole entire story. “Wow. Isn’t that ironic? Killed by money when you cheated people out of thousands of dollars.” She couldn’t help the snort that escaped her. Rolling her eyes, she was just about to change the channel when a cosmetics commercial flicked on. Eyes widening, Amy sat up completely straight, her heart racing.

She recognized the woman on the screen. How could she forget her? That long, flowing, and lustrous golden blonde hair, high cheekbones, and sapphire blue eyes, and perfectly straight teeth? No. Amy couldn’t forget her even if she had tried.

Missy Preston.

That’s right. She had finally taken the time to learn the name of her nemesis after she had left college. Just to be on the safe side.

Missy had been one of the biggest pains in her butt for the relatively short amount of time she had attended Crawford Hall. A natural bully, and a person that lived off of spite, bitterness, jealousy, and the attention she got from her atrocious acts, Amy had to admit that Missy was one of the lowest people she had ever had the misfortune to run across. She had bullied herself mercilessly, ever since she had first laid eyes on her. Even after all of Missy’s acts against her, Amy still had felt the need to stand up for Missy once! Hindsight twenty twenty, Missy had probably deserved it and she should have just kept her mouth shut.

“And boy was I completely stupid for doing it,” Amy groaned to herself as she slapped her forehead. Sighing, she rolled her eyes, and tried to swallow the anger that had bubbled up, leaving her palms sweaty and shaking. Her total idiocy still bothered her to no end about how she had handled it.

It had turned out that shortly after Amy had left Crawford Hall, Missy had been “discovered” if the rumour mill was anything to be believed. It had happened at a college play supposedly. The story had went that Missy had been trying out for a lead role in the play that was to take place in four months. As luck would have it a talent scout just happened to be sitting in the back, watching all of the auditions. Of course, they had supposedly taken a shine to her instantly and immediately approached and offered Missy a job opportunity to be the new face for their cosmetics line. This is how Amy had ended up on her rag tag couch and Missy’s face was blown up on her TV.

Amy had sorted when she had heard the story. More or less, it was probably Missy’s father who had in essence “bought” the part for Missy. Things didn’t happen like that just by chance, there was usually some kind of outside help.

Now Amy couldn’t help the disgust that welled up alongside the anger at watching Missy smirk on the screen. Her long, platinum, blonde hair was done up in large curls that waved around her face, that could only be achieved by top hair stylists. Her cold blue/grey eyes, so similar to hard sapphires, sparkled out at the camera, and she stared seemingly through the screen at Amy herself with such intensity; her eyebrows arched in a come hither motion. Licking her lips seductively, she winked.

“Heavenly Cosmetics,” said the spokesperson through the TV’s speakers, “every angel deserves their share of fame, and you can have that chance as well. Buy the lipstick from the “Heavenly Collection” and become instantly envied by all of your rivals and peers.”

Amy couldn’t help the snort of derision and turned off the TV, pressing the power button with a little more force than was maybe necessary; throwing the controller beside her, she stared up at the ceiling. The ceiling fan above her rotated slowly, almost lazily, and she couldn’t help but be lost in it’s hypnotic movements….around…and around. Turning her head to the side, she could see out her window at the white fluffy clouds drifting by with seemingly not a care in the world. Everything was okay with the world. People still laughed, told jokes, hung out with friends, visited family. Day passed to night and night to day; and the world kept spinning. Everything was fine. Everything was fine and okay, except for her.

Shortly after Lance and Jazz had left; after Gabe had been murdered right in front of her eyes, Amy had decided that she had needed to leave Crawford Hall; and she had never looked back. For her the memories of the school and everything that had happened in it were too much for her mind, body, and soul to bear.

She could still remember everything as if it had happened yesterday. Recalled meeting Gabe with perfect clarity. Under that large, tall tree. His honey coloured eyes, tinged with green around the irises, had stared down at her in concern and a touch of laughter that she had been sure never left him in any situation. If Amy had known then, what she knew now, maybe everything would have happened differently. Maybe she wouldn’t have spent so much time on constantly doubting Gabe, on his actions, his “job;” but she had allowed her conflicted emotions to become a barrier and a hindrance, putting themselves in the middle of not just them, but herself, and then in connection to it her relationship with Gabe.

He had always looked out for her. Stuck up for her. Even if he did go to extreme lengths….

And now he was gone.

Amy sighed. ‘Is this what it’s like having a guardian angel around you? Who constantly protects you?’ she couldn’t help but think tiredly.

Every time someone threatened her in some way, or hurt her, Gabe was always there to get them back tenfold; and boy, did he get them back. Some lengths were very severe, while others were minor.

Amy had to shake her head at her moral compass now a days. It used to be that she had a black and white outlook on life. Right was right. And wrong was wrong. Right? Good was good and evil was, well evil. Right?? But now it was as if her whole life perspective had flipped completely on itself, almost like a room from Alice in Wonderland. One time, not to long ago in the past, she would have seen murder and deadly pranks as a huge over step and called the cops. Now? She wouldn’t even blink an eye anymore.

Her thoughts suddenly shifted and drifted off to Jazz. Amy couldn’t help the small smile that creeped across her face unwittingly. Jazz had been her tiny friend. She had been the shoulder that she could cry on whenever life had become too much for her. Jazz was a smaller woman in stature, with short black hair, delicate rounded features, and an enormous amount of energy that could rival any child in the world on an extreme sugar rush. Amy figured that it also had something to do with what Jazz actually was.

Jazz is a light elf. She was one of the good ones, unlike the dark elves. Stereotypes, right?

‘Or maybe I’m just stereotyping them like other people do in mainstream media. Like gay, black, Mexican, other minorities, old, or young individuals,’ Amy thought to herself contemplatively.

She hadn’t found out about her best friend until very late on into her first year at the college. Jazz had used a type of glamour spell, enchanting her appearance, so that she could be shielded from the general population and live her life as if she were a normal human. When Jazz wasn’t in her glamour she could knock the socks off of any top model around the world. She was tall and elegant, there was just no other way to say it. Her facial features took on a more cat like quality and appearance, and even her voice had become softer, gentler, and more melodious. It had contained a hypnotic quality to Amy that could have almost made her sit and listen to Jazz for hours forgoing any mortal responsibilities.

Jazz had always made Amy feel safe, even before she knew who, and what, she was. She was the first person that she had confided in about her parents. Heck, she never even told Gabe about the…she probably wouldn’t get the chance anymore now.

Her thoughts once again shifted to her other college friend, Lance. Lance was incredibly handsome, tall, blonde, and with a smile capable of lighting a room, Lance was the equivalency of a god at their college. He was admired by all of the women, and even some of the guys; when they weren’t eyeing him in envy. He was a regular poster boy, but when it came to her and Jazz he was such a sweet kitten.

Lance had turned out to be a warlock that was seven hundred years old. Yeah, no joke. If that didn’t bother you, the fact that he didn’t appear a day over twenty, no wrinkles, perfect white teeth, fluffy blonde hair, and that was always perfectly styled and never a hair out of place, and a gorgeous body that could kill just by looking at it, then you should be jealous. And if you weren’t? Well you just didn’t have a pulse in Amy’s humble opinion.

He had never really used his powers in front of her. Preferring to be more passive than anything. Once Gabe had died, he had disappeared along with Jazz. No note. No warning. Just…gone. It was almost as if they had dropped off of the face of the Earth.

Amy remembered grabbing the paper the day after Gabe’s death. After reading through it once, she had refused to look at it again, and had kept it locked in a chest under her bed. Refusing to open it; not until she was ready to face everything that was held within that tiny box. There was one last thing that would be locked within that box as well. Once it was done, she would open the box, for the first and last time, to confront the contents once more, and lock both things away after, throwing away the key and burying the contents far away and never looking at it again.

Amy glanced over at the diary sitting innocently on her small desk by the window. The sun was shining down on it’s blue, leather binding giving it an ethereal glowing appearance. She gazed at the seemingly innocent book. It had been extremely painful for her to go back and recount all of those events in painful detail. But she felt she had needed to. Needed to acknowledge each interaction, each laugh, smile, cry, hug, and comfort and document it. Almost as if each time she wrote about every individual interaction she was saying a small good bye that she would never be able to fully articulate.

Turning away from the book, Amy bit the tip of her nail so harshly blood welled up. She welcomed the pain though, it seemingly grounded her, bringing her back to reality. A painful and harsh reality, but her reality. But the book….it almost seemed to call out to her and she felt an itch under her skin that she couldn’t quite scratch.

Amy angrily got up from the couch and strode over to the desk. Glaring down at the blue silky cover, she reached out her hand to pick it up, when her phone rang.

Jumping slightly, Amy turned and glared at the phone accusingly, almost angry at the audacity of it to disturb her. Looking down at the diary again, she reached out one more time to grab it, when the phone began ringing once more. Gritting her teeth, she counted to five hoping that it would turn off, and that whoever was calling her would just go away.

Unfortunately for her it kept on ringing. Tamping down on her anger, and gritting her teeth, Amy turned and stomped over to the phone.

“Hello?” she said into the phone trying to keep her aggravation at bay.

“Hey Amy, sorry to bother you, but can you come in a little bit earlier today?” asked the voice on the other end, who Amy instantly recognized as Sasha

“Yeah sure. When do you need me in?” Amy just barely managed to hide her tired sigh.

“Within the hour, please.” Sasha sounded strained. “I’ll pay you double! I know it’s short notice. My apologies!”

Amy couldn’t help the small smile at her boss’s frantic voice. She could hear through the receiver the jamboree going on in the background. Loud customers shouting, and noisy communication from the kitchen calling up orders ready for serving.

“Thanks, Sasha. I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Amy assured her as she hung up.

Knocking her forehead against the wall beside her she put the phone down her. Peeling herself off the wall, Amy ran her fingers through her hair and turned around. The first thing her gaze alighted on was the diary still sitting exactly where she had left it earlier. Ignoring it this time she walked past the desk, and entered the bathroom. Stripping out of her clothes, Amy walked into the shower and turned the water up until it was scalding.

It was a testament to how often she had done this as she entered the shower and didn’t even flinch as the super-heated water poured over her body; not even reacting as it pounded against her skin. The only time she showed any reaction to the water was when it trailed down her arms and came into contact with her wrists.

It wasn’t known by anyone, except for Amy, but shortly after she had left college she had started to cut herself. The anger, pain, grief, and despair had finally over run her; completely incapacitating her and imprisoning herself in her own gilded cage of her making. Without anyone to help her, or allow her to lean on them, she had succumbed to her dark desires of cutting, in a last ditch effort and attempt to alleviate some of the pain that she still felt embedded deeply into her heart and soul.

While the pain of the cutting took away some of her internalized emotional pain, within but a few short moments the depression would rear it’s ugly head once more and completely immobilize her once again. Not even the sting of the fresh marks could completely give her any type of longer lasting relief. When these debilitating episodes occurred, it would usually leave Amy breathless, and find her sitting in the shower long after the hot water had turned ice cold. To which she would then forcefully pull herself from her crouched position on the floor.

Raising one of her wrists Amy looked upon the angry raised flesh. She no longer looked down on it in fear or resentment; now it was just a part of her, as much as her arms or legs were. Dropping her wrist, Amy reached over and turned off the shower head. Small droplets rained on her for a few short seconds, and then nothing but silence permeated the apartment once again. Throwing the shower curtain open she stepped out and grabbed a towel. Tying it around her body she grabbed a smaller hair towel and began to dry her long blonde hair.

Opening the door, she walked over to her bedroom. It was modest. It wasn’t as if she could afford anything extravagant. Just the bare necessities were needed. She got by and she was content. Going over to her closet she grabbed her work uniform. Tossing it onto her bed, Amy quickly stripped out of the towels and began to dress.

Quickly dressing in her simple outfit she glanced into the mirror hanging on her wall and groaned at what met her back. She looked as if she hadn’t slept in days, and that wasn’t far off from the actual truth. Her dreams were haunted by constant, and reoccurring, nightmares. Even her waking mind was plagued by dark thoughts and offhand glances out of the corner of her eye of people she thought she recognized. Amy couldn’t seem to find any peace in her life anymore. She worked long, gruelling hours to make sure she had a roof over her head and food on the table. There had even been times where she almost thought that she wouldn’t make it for her rent, but she always seemed to scrape by. Although barely some times. With only enough money to grab packs of noodles at the store to sustain herself.

Slowly, but surely, Amy was wasting away. Becoming gaunter as the days went on.

Glancing at the clock she noted the time and walked towards her front door. Grabbing a long coat and throwing it over her body, she couldn’t help but glance again over her shoulder at the diary still on her desk.

“I’ll deal with you later,” she mumbled out load as she opened and stepped out locking the door behind her and sprinting off to work.

*** Please keep in mind that this story has been uploaded by myself on other sites. Right now I'm flushing out the story, hopefully for the better, and I have changed some minor things as I've went. Anyways hope people enjoy!