From Angel to Goddess

“In the case of attempted first degree murder and severe injury to others, How do you plea?”

”Guilty.”

”In the case of third degree murder, how do you plea?”

”Guilty.”

“In the case of attempted first degree murder, the court finds you guilty as charged and sentences you to the maximum sentence of ten years with a minimum fine of fifty thousand dollars,” the judge says with a bang of their gavel, “in the case of third degree murder, the court finds you guilty as charged and sentences you to the maximum sentence forty years with the maximum fine of forty thousand dollars,” they continue with another bang of their gavel, “in conclusion to both these cases, the court hereby sentences you to fifty years in prison with a fine of ninety thousand dollars, a psych evaluation with court mandated therapy and the possibility of parole for good behavior in thirty years,” they finish before banning the gavel one last time & saying, “courts adjourned until that possible time of reconvenes.”

With that I was hauled off to prison for most of the remainder of my life; I wasn’t trying to kill her, she was my Angel, I would never harm her. HE got in the way, I was just trying to remove the obstacle coming between my Angel & I. She’d still be here if it wasn’t for HIM; she’d still be alive & safe-& with me. I didn’t mean to kill her, I just wanted HIM out of our lives & she got in my clear shot of HIM. HE’s the REAL reason she’s dead, not me; she was & always will be my sweet Angel.

She will always be mine, always belong to me; she understood me, was like me. We were both wallflowers-invisible, but we saw each other; HE never once glanced her way. But I always saw her; her: beauty, kindness & brains. Even that stupid B she called a friend tried to come between us-but could never. It’s fine, I’ll bide my time & plan my revenge on them all for taking her from me.

What’s HE have that I don’t have anyways…HE can have any girl he wants, why’s HE need my Angel anyways? HE’s the reason she’s gone from me now, HE IS, not me-HIM…

”You have a visitor-“

Who’d be visiting me? I get up from my cell bed & follow the guard person to the visiting section. It’s been two months since the day my angel was given real wings & one month since when we both would’ve graduated. I find my angel’s supposed best friend waiting on the other side of the glass, with the phone to her ear. I take a seat & pick up the phone on my end; I give her a dull look as I wait to hear what she could possibly want from or to say to me…

”…” we’re both silent for a moment, just staring at each other

“Hmm,” she clears her throat as she pulls something out of her purse, “she left something for you in her will…”

”what?” I ask now in shock, “my Angel left me something?”

”Don’t,” she cringes, “call her that,” she finishes before unfolding a piece of paper, “all it is, is a letter to you expressing her true feelings for you.”

”I knew my Angel cared for me,” I express happiness, “I knew she was just hiding-“

”Dear Stalker,” she cuts me off and as she looks at the paper & reads from it, “I have asked you repeatedly time and time again to leave me alone & STOP following me. I truly wish you would just heed my request of you; I was kind to you and tolerated you because I pitied you. I pitied you because of the similar home life we shared for a short time. I apologize if you feel I misled you or anything, it was never my intention to give you the wrong impression. I never felt for you, what you did for me and I see now that I shouldn’t have been so nice and should have been more straightforward with you.”

”You’re lying,” I whisper, my blood having gone cold in disbelief of my ears hearing what my angel supposedly wrote, “you witch! My Angel would never write such things! You’re lying!”

”Here look!” She snaps back at me as she slams the letter up against the glass for me to see, “you were in the same classes as us for six years straight,” she says as I stare at the handwriting on the paper, “you’ve stalked her long enough to know what her handwriting looks like and know as well as anyone else that no two people have similar handwriting and would be rare if they did…”

”My…Angel…” I murmur, feeling as though my heart was bursting, “my Angel hated me-“

”She didn’t hate you,” her friend tells me, “she hated your obsession with her, not you-never you.”

”Why’re you showing and telling me this?”

“So you can move on with your life and stop obsessing over a dead girl.”

”…” I stare at her

”Don’t mistake my coming here and revealing this to you for kindness or forgiveness for taking my best friend away from me…”

”…”

“I did this for her,” she explains, “it was addressed to you, both her will and my therapist asked me to give or relay it to you,” she tells me further before clarifying, “her will request I give it to you, my therapist suggested I relay it to you in person as a way to try to help me heal.”

”…”

”I’ll give it to the guards to let you have whenever you’re permitted…”

I find myself speechless after seeing the damning evidence that the letter was in my angel’s hand. I stay quiet as she goes, contemplating how mercifully she is; only now realizing for the first time how beautiful she is. Her beauty far surpasses that of she who was my Angel, but HER beauty is equal in value to that of a goddess. What was I thinking all these years? I threw everything away for an Angel when I could’ve had a goddess.

”You’re leaving now?”

“…” she stares at me

”Don’t get too many visitors…”

”Why would you?” She replies, “not too many people want to visit a murderer.”

”Will you come back and grace me with your godly presence my sweet goddess?” I ask, which causes her to stop midway to hanging up the phone on her end

”W-What did you just call me?” She asks in shock & having put the phone back to her ear, “what did you just say?”

”Will you visit again?” I repeat with a smile, “my goddess.”