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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2223338-My-Angelic-Demon
Rated: E · Short Story · Romance/Love · #2223338
What would happen if a demon were to do some good?
         I walked outside, shifting uncomfortably in my heavy plastic raincoat already sheened in rainwater, my bulky boots covered in mud. I heard the front door slam shut before realizing I left both my keys and umbrella inside. I will have to wait until I come back and go through the back door. I bit my lip and walked to the corner, avoiding the puddles.

         At the red light, there was a line of cars beeping at each other while I waited for my turn to cross. I heard one driver shout, “Move, Idiot!” A man walks beside me and waits. He had white hair, I assume it was bleached, but it was very long and curly. It was so curly it was nearly tangled. He stood at least a foot taller than me, his height intimidated my 5’2” stance. I blushed as the light signaled for me to cross. I stepped into the crowded road.

         I felt a strong tug at my coat sleeve that pulled me back. I heard a horn blare right by my ear, and the scratch of something metallic whiz past me. The world spinned before my eyes, I became dizzy with exhilarating confusion. When I stood firm and realized that I could’ve been run over by a reckless driver if it wasn’t for this stranger. It was embarrassing that my life for a few seconds were in the hands of somebody I never knew for my stupidity and clumsiness.

         “Thank you for rescuing me…” it sounded weird when I put it that way.

         He shrugged, “Let me escort you across, Miss, if you don’t mind.” He had the voice of a gentleman, soft, yet strong and assuring.

         “I don’t mind!” I said.

         I felt the rain enter my ripped sleeve and soak my shirt underneath, but I didn’t care. We walked in silence and I thanked him once more.

         “My name is Sebastian, miss,” he introduced.

         “I’m Rachel,” I said with a smile.

         Sebastian continued to walk in the same direction as me, which confounded me.

         “Where are you heading to?” I asked.

         “To the small shop down the street,” was his reply.

         I don’t know why but I felt weird when I heard him say that, “That’s my parents’ shop.”

         My grandfather was an immigrant from Germany, and when he moved to America he decided he was going to set up a shop in New York, instead it was a tiny corner store at the edge of a city in New Jersey. When my father inherited it, he didn’t have the people skills my grandpa did, so he ended up losing profits. We still own the store, it’s just mostly empty. Fully stocked, no customers.

         I wondered why Sebastian wanted to go there, but I didn’t stop him. We passed tiny cafes, apartments, and a bakery. After a few minutes we made it there. The bricks were sweet memories of my grandpa, candy, and laughing with neighbors. Then I heard a piercing scream. My blood chilled at the sound, my hands shook, my senses heightened. My legs were on autopilot, directing me to the door in a cautious step. Sebastian put up his hand to say stop! He pulled me behind the large oak that was older than the shop itself.

         “Stay here, and call the cops.”

         He walked up slowly in a crouch, eyeing the closed door. He opened it steadily without a sound and walked into the shop. Minutes flew by without a thing moving, I began to worry more. The trees were rustling with the wind howling, skies hurled a downpour. The rain washed my muddy boots off. I heard another scream, more like deep yelp. I wondered if my mom was hurt, was it a robber? When I saw a lock of white, Sebastian walked out with my mom in his arms, passed out.

         “Wait a moment, I’ve got to get something,” he said as he turned back into the small building.

         I pulled my phone out dial 911. The woman on the other side responded. I told her the situation. I held my mom, stroking her greying hair. I grabbed my water and patted her head with it, she awoke.

         “Oh, Rachel! There was a man in there with a gun. He put it to my head and told me to give him the money! I thought he was going to shoot and then…” she paused for a moment, “...An angel saved me!”

         A moment later Sebastian came out of the store with a man who I didn’t recognize; he had sharp black hair, skinny frame, and an awfully large nose. If the man had a gun, how could Sebastian get close enough without being shot? Maybe, I thought, he snuck behind the guy and took him by surprise. I heard many stories like this, but it was different. Sebastian had this aura about him, like it was his duty or he was responsible.

         Sebastian promised that he would wait until the cops took control, but I had a feeling that he was going to walk away anyway. I saw blue and red lights flash down the streets, the police car turning onto the sidewalk. A cop got out and handcuffed the robber and dragged him into the car. Another asked me and Sebastian what had happened. My answer was weak, barely detailed. I thought Sebastian may have a better answer, but he said he didn’t know much but clubbed him. The officer thanked us for our cooperation and decided not to ask my mom, since she was in shock. The police left.

         Sebastian said he will walk us home, so nothing bad happens, and I just went along with it. We crossed the street, guiding my mom along the muddy path to my house. Apparently my father was at home, my mom just came to the shop to make sure everything was tidy. I felt my anger bubble inside of me, cursing my father in any language I knew.

         When I made it to the door, Sebastian pulled me aside, “I have something important to say to you, Rachel.”

         I nodded and grinned, “I wanted to say thank you. You saved me twice, once by saving my mother!” I hugged him tightly.

         He hugged me back, and we stood there for a moment in the drops of rain.

         “I’m not human. I’m a demon.”

         I didn’t feel repulsive at his honesty; I fell in love with my guardian angel instead.
© Copyright 2020 Lili J. - On/Offline (lili4 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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