Angel

It started with a ouija board, just something kids did at parties and sleepovers. They were at Jenny’s house when she suggested they try it, and Sarah figured it would be harmless. She actually thought it was kind of dumb, but Jenny was so eager that she just went along with it. They’d sat down, their fingers on the planchette and Jenny has closed her eyes and intoned a request to the spirits. Sarah had to stifle a giggle at Jenny’s solemn voice.

Even when the planchette started moving, Sarah assumed it was Jenny behind it. It slid over the board and spelt out M-I-C-H-A-E-L. Jenny looked excited. She asked if Michael was a spirit, and the planchette moved to NO. An angel? YES came the response. Sarah had snorted then, “C’mon Jenny, you’re moving it yourself.” Jenny angrily denied it, they’d started arguing and Sarah had left, walking to her house two streets away.

The next few days Jenny was pretty cold to her at school, and Sarah was still cross that Jenny wouldn’t admit she had moved the planchette, but eventually they let it go and life seemed back to normal.

Until the dreams started. They were vague at first. Sarah would wake with a fading memory of a man in white, surrounded by a golden glow and exuding a sense of enveloping comfort and peace. It took several nights of repetition before she mentioned it to anybody, finally pulling Jenny aside one lunchtime. Jenny seemed delighted; she told Sarah she was having the same dreams. But while Sarah felt a strange sense of unease, Jenny felt only excitement. She was convinced the dreams were a divine vision of Michael, the being who had spoken to them through the oujia board.

Soon after Sarah and Jenny discovered their shared dreams, the man started speaking to Sarah. Each night he would appear in her dream, peace radiating from him, and hold out his hand, saying, “Come, Sarah”. His voice was melodic and compelling, and Sarah felt it wrapping around her, drawing her to him. But something she couldn’t define held her back, stopping her from taking his proffered hand.

Convinced Michael was an angelic being, Jenny had no such hesitation. She tried to convince Sarah to follow her lead, but Sarah found herself wary of the way Jenny seemed to be changing. She’d lost interest in her usual activities and interests and talked of nothing but Michael; his amazing plans for them, how he would help them ascend to a new plane of being and gain wonderful powers. She told Sarah about the beautiful garden where she met Michael in dreams, with an intricate fountain splashing in the sunlight and a golden palace visible in the distance.

Then Michael started asking Jenny to do things. At first it was seemingly harmless things. Like picking a flower and placing it somewhere, burying a piece of jewelry, or writing a note and burning it. Initially, Jenny shared Michael’s requests with Sarah, but over time she spoke of him less and less. Sarah was first relieved, then worried. Jenny was losing weight, and dark circles appeared under her eyes. She would doze off in class and her schoolwork was suffering.

Eventually, Sarah confronted her about it. At first Jenny denied that anything was wrong, but Sarah wouldn’t let her be, and finally she burst out, “Michael said I can’t trust you. He said something’s holding you back. What is it, Sarah? If you’d come to him, you’d see, you’d understand. It’s so beautiful and wonderful that I can’t even describe it.” Taken aback, Sarah had made some non-committal reply, and Jenny had turned away from her.

One morning, Sarah overheard Jenny’s brother saying something had got into their chicken coop overnight, and three hens had been killed. “Blood everywhere,” he said in Sarah’s earshot. When Sarah mentioned it to Jenny, she gave no response other than to turn her face away, hiding a sly smile. With a slowly growing sense of horror, Sarah asked if she had anything to do with it. At first Jenny had just narrowed her eyes at Sarah, but then she admitted that she had killed the chickens.

“Why?” burst out Sarah, horrified.

Jenny’s expression changed to anger, “Why? Because I had to. Only through blood can I purify myself so Michael can take me to the next stage. You’d understand if you stopped being so afraid.” Then Jenny, who loved animals and cried over baby birds fallen from the nest, added, “They’re only chickens after all.” After that she’d refused to say anything more.

She still kept talking to Sarah at school, however, insisting that Sarah needed to join her and Michael. Growing thin and pale, yet with a fire burning in her eyes, she would talk with feverish energy of Michael and his plans. She begged Sarah to come to her place, saying there was something big she couldn’t do without Sarah, something that would let Michael reach fully into this world. When Sarah made an excuse, Jenny laughed strangely and told her that she should come while she still had the choice.

Sarah tried to avoid Jenny after that. At school it was impossible, but she no longer went over to Jenny’s house. When Jenny asked, she made up a story about her parents wanting her to spend more time on her schoolwork. Jenny had looked upset, “I need you, Sarah. I can’t do everything on my own.” Her voice trembled with excitement, “I saw him when I was awake. He was so beautiful and I felt so calm and free. You should come to him, there’s still time. Your parents can’t keep you away. We won’t let them.” The last was said in a calm, resolute voice that sent shivers down Sarah’s spine. She looked at her friend and felt as though she wasn’t seeing her anymore, as though something else was looking out through her eyes. She was afraid for Jenny, but she was also becoming afraid of her.

One night Jenny’s family cat was killed. Her father found it on the back porch, spread-eagled, its intestines pulled from a cut across its belly and a large pool of sticky blood beneath it. Sarah felt sick when she heard. The poor animal would have suffered terrible pain as it was eviscerated and left to die, and Sarah thought she knew who must have been responsible. But she couldn’t bring herself ask Jenny about it; she didn’t think she could stand to hear Jenny admit it, to see the sincerity in her face as she insisted that it needed to be done.

Sarah finally talked to her parents then. She had kept silent up until now, sure that it would sound crazy, but the incident with the cat decided her. To her surprise, her parents seemed to take her quite seriously. They asked for Jenny’s home number and said they would speak to Jenny’s parents about her behaviour.

The next night, Sarah’s parents had gone out and would be home late. Sarah had gone to bed but was pulled from sleep by the noise of sirens. She walked to her window and saw an orange glow in the sky, dark smoke rising from somewhere nearby. She looked down to her street, and her stomach clenched in fear. A dark figure stood in front of her house; small and slight. Next to the figure, shifting and impossible to properly focus upon, was a dark shadow about the size of a man, emanating a faint green glow.

The moon suddenly shone through, and the light fell onto the figures below; the shadow seemed to vanish in the light, but the other figure was clearly illuminated. It was Jenny. She was in her pajamas, dark smudges on her face and a knife in her hands. She looked up, directly at Sarah’s bedroom window. Sarah’s heart seemed to stop; she was in shadow and standing behind her curtains, surely Jenny couldn’t see her. Jenny continued to stare, and then smiled an impossibly stretched smile. “Sarah,” she called in a sing-song voice, “I see you. Come out, Sarah, he’s waiting.” Jenny drifted over the lawn, closer to Sarah’s window, never taking her eyes off her. “It’s okay Sarah, your parents don’t matter. I’ll take care of them. I took care of mine.” Sarah knew she should step away from the window, but Jenny’s gaze held hers and she felt frozen with fear. “Sarah,” Jenny called again, “I know you’re there. Come out, come out.” Then, terrifyingly, her voice deepened and took on an otherworldly tone, as though overlaid with another’s, “We’re waiting for you.”

From somewhere, Sarah found the strength to break away from Jenny’s gaze. When she looked back, Jenny was gone. Desperately, Sarah’s eyes searched the yard and the street, but there was no sign of Jenny. Sarah started to run to her parent’s room, forgetting they weren’t home. She was half-way across the hall when something started pounding at the front door, thundering knocks echoing throughout the house. Sarah shrieked, and crouched down on the hallway floor, hands over her ears. But she couldn’t block out the harrowing thumps or the voice that wasn’t Jenny’s calling her name.

Suddenly silence. Then she heard Jenny’s voice, Jenny’s real voice, at the front door. “Sarah,” sobbed Jenny, “Please let me in. I’m so scared. He won’t let me go. Please, you have to help me.” Fearfully, Sarah uncurled herself and stood, one hand on the banister. Slowly, she placed one cautious foot on the stair, then another. Jenny continued to sob quietly at the door, and Sarah’s heart broke. She had to let her in, she had to help her friend.

She was at the front door, reaching out to the door handle, closing her fingers over it, all the time hearing her friend weeping on the other side. “I’m here, Jenny,” she whispered. She was on the verge of turning the handle when the knocking started again. It startled her, and she fell backwards, landing on floor. The knocking got louder, and Jenny voice started up again, increasing in pitch and volume. “Let me in Sarah, you have to let me in, you have to help me.” The door rattled frantically as her voice rose to an inhuman shriek, “Sarah, let me in. Let us in, let us in.”

The windows at the front of the house started to rattle, then the windows around the side and back, creating a cacophony of sounds that still couldn’t drown out not-Jenny’s voice calling Sarah’s name, demanding to be let in. The noise overwhelmed Sarah, driving her to the ground, tears streaming from her eyes as she prayed for it to stop, for whatever presence was at her door to go away and leave her alone.

Then, the sounds of sirens close at hand. The thumping and rattling stopped, and Jenny’s voice ceased its disturbing siren call. For a moment there was silence except for the ever-louder sounds of sirens, and then Jenny’s voice drifting through the air, “We’ll come back for you, Sarah. We promise.” Sarah opened her eyes. Blue and red flashes lit up the walls, and she heard the sound of a car pulling into the garage. Then hurried footsteps, as her parents rushed in to find their daughter lying on the floor, pale and shaking.

“Oh honey, oh sweetheart, oh …” cried her mother, wrapping her arms around her and holding her tightly. “We came home as soon as we heard. I’m so sorry, honey.” Sarah looked blankly at her mother, and she continued, “Your friend, Jenny? Her house burnt down. It looks like … they don’t think anyone made it out.”

Sarah turned her face away from her mother’s and looked towards the window. She knew that something had made it out of that house. And it was out there, waiting for her.