Fallen Angels (Short Story)

I knock on the door and without waiting for an answer, I enter our bedroom. Although she isn't present I notice her window is open and I know instantly where she is. I lean backwards out the window slightly as snow flakes lightly tap me upon the face. Carefully I grip the roof tightly and step on the window sill, climbing up to the top of the roof. "Jasmine?" I called out to my younger sister.

"Hey," Jasmine calls back as I make my way over to her trying carefully not to lose my footing.

"Why are you out here Jasmine?" I ask my sister, whom is merely at age fifteen, just two years younger than myself. When I'm finally standing beside her, she answers me.

"Why do you follow me up here? From the sound of it you must think of me as a fool for standing on the roof in the cold and snow like this, Mei." She stands there looking off into space as I look at her dumbfounded.

"I never said that. I just don't understand why you like it so much up here. What happens if you fall?" I defend myself.

"Then I guess I'm in trouble," Jasmine tells me, looking at me finally.

As she looks at me I stare back into her gorgous face, thinking about how much she's changed and how much I despise it.

In school, I have always been teased, and Jasmine has always come to her big sisters defense. Doesn't that sound pathetic? It takes a young girl, two years younger than me, to defend me. Lately, however, all she'd say to me was, "You should learn to defend yourself."

When she first began taking up for me while no one else ever would, I began to feel stronger compassion than I normally would for my sister.

One night, about a year ago, I confessed how I felt about her. "Jasmine," I began. "I love you."

"Oh! I love you too, Mei!" She said back, in a cheery mood.

"No, Jasmine," I replied. "I LOVE you."

She looked at me, blinking a few times. "Jasmine, I feel more for you than just sisterly compassion. I don't know why, and sometimes it scares me." By that point, I was in tears.

Jasmine, embraced me, her compassion in her touch, her feelings in her words.  “Don’t cry,” she whispered to me, running her fingers through my long black hair. “You must have been terrified of what I’d say.”
Through my harsh sobs, I replied, “Yes, terrified,” as if I could only use words she’s said.

“Don’t worry,” she told me. “I don’t hate you, and you don’t upset me.>“ Jasmine pulled away from me, and then pulled back in to kiss me gently upon my lips. I felt myself blush, my cheeks hot with embarrassment, unknowing of how I should respond to such a thing.

Lightly, Jasmine pushed me back on her bed, so that I was laying down on my back with her next to me, her arm around me. She leaned in closer towards my ear and whispered, “Don’t worry about a thing Mei.”

I guess we never really had to worry about Mom finding out about our secret, it seemed like she was never home, out with friends or some man at a bar or working, leaving my sister and me with the house to ourselves most of the time.

The things we’d do were often dirty, but all of the time, we managed to get away with doing these things. Should I be ashamed for loving my sister in this way? Doing these things with her? I guess I should, but somehow, I’m not. I love her anyways.

I snap back into reality, still standing on the roof with Jasmine, cold but not caring at the same time. I continue to stare at her, with her hardly noticing, and I begin to feel a wave of fury towards her.

Without thinking about it, I shove her, and screaming loudly with her eyes wide in terror, she falls backwards off the room on her back. When she hits the ground, she hits her head on the raised flower bed lined with rocks, now stained red from her head being cracked open.

Horrorfied at my own actions, I hurry back in through the window, racing downstairs and outside to where my sister lay in red snow. When I've come to her, I pull her head into my lap, feeling for a pulse although I know there won't be one, and I'm correct, there wasn't. I sob, feeling emense guilt for my actions, the red pouring onto the skirt of my school uniform.

Aloud, I scream, trying desperately to release my anger and self hatred. Finally, I get up, calling 911 to report the "accident", saying that she'd slipped and fell.

When her body had been taken away, I attempted to call Mom, who'd walked to the bar that was close to our house. She answers her cell phone, laughing and giggled with friends, the sound of a man's voice in the background.

Trying to unscramble my words, I said, "Jasmine's dead."

Laughing, Mom answers me with, "No she isn't. Don't joke like that, Mei."

"No, Mom," I say back. "I'm not lying. She fell off the roof of the house a little while ago." Mom hangs up on me, and shocked, I drop the phone to the carpeted floor of the living room, and I sit down on the couch, partially not intending to.

I bury my face in my hands, sobbing loudly, as I finally lay down on the sofa, trying to recall what could bring me to the point of taking away this angel's wings.

About a month ago, I had come home early from school, intending to stay late but wasn't able to due to my teacher having to leave early from an emergancy. Stepping into my house, I set my things down, taking off my shoes and my jacket,leaving it on a coat rack beside the door.

I walked upstairs, and I could hear the sound of Jasmine and a young man together. I cracked the door open, and quietly, I peered in. The boy, whoever he was, was removing her shirt, and quickly, still not making a sound, I shut the door and leave the house, walking a small ways down the street to the park, sitting on a swing, waiting for him to leave.

A while later, he fnally does, and I see Jasmine escort him out, and they parted with a kiss, her not even noticing my watching from the swing. I give him time to leave, and then I walk back to the house, dismayed from what I'd seen.

Jumping up off the couch, I run outside to where my sister had hit the ground and throw myself upon the soft snow, still sobbing, angry with both myself and her.

I lay there for a short while, and eventually, Mom walks out. Realizing I'd spoken the truth, she becomes bitter and walks back inside, not speaking to me as she does so.

Tired from the days terrible events, I haul myself back inside the house, changing into my pajamas, preparing to climb into bed when I notice her diary.

Curious, I open it and I read it, shocked at what I'd read.

"I feel guilty for what I've done, but I know I need the money. Hopefully, Mei will never know what dirty things I've done to get it, and the only thing that will is myself and this diary. The boy that was here today offered me quite a bit for my service to him, which made me upset yet happy. I'm convinced however that as he left, I saw Mei on a swing watching us, but I don't want to believe it. All I want, is the money, to help us get away from this life, our mom, and so that mayhaps Mei can get into a college. It won't help much but it is something."

Growing more and more furious with myself, I rip out the pages of the book in a tantrum, making them small enough the Mom can't make anything out of them. Soon, I climb into bed, taking  pills to aid me in sleep.

As I lay in bed, I hear Jasmine whispering to me, and holding on to me with her arms enveloping me. "Don't worry about a thing, Mei," she says. I look beside me, and she's laying there with me, and startled, I scramble out of bed and land in the floor, and she holds her hand out to me, saying, "Mei, come with me please."

Confused and crying again, I take her hand, and climb back into bed. We lay there together, as I fall into peaceful sleep, grateful that she doesn't appear to hate me.