Angel’s Point of View

Memories flash through my head as I witness my parents playing cards with me. I watch as my younger self is bending the cards while my Dad has a stressed look on his face and my Mom looks smug as a fox. My younger self smacks the wooden table, “GO FISH” she says but everything freezes. My parents ’faces stay the same, and the sounds of nature stop moving. My body moves towards the table, looking at my younger self, the smile I used to have shining brightly, at that moment the eyes of my younger self moved looking straight at me. The mouth of the younger me moves, “Remember the feeling of these memories for you will make more.” Suddenly the house goes up in flames and my younger self freezes once again the flames climbing up the walls, burning the wooden supports. I watch as the beam above the table starts to fall, I move my body catching the beam and holding it up. “Mom, Dad, wake up! MOVE PLEASE.” My face squinches in stress as I watch my family and younger self's bodies stay still, never moving. A man approaches the inside of the building, a man with wraps of bandages all around his body but I can still feel the smile on his face. Azreal looks at me, his laughter echoing more and more. I can’t take it anymore. Suddenly I felt my magical power surge through freezing the flames where they stood but Azreal’s flames built a wall around him. No matter how much I try, no matter how much I focus my magic, I can’t freeze him. His flames grow wider and wider coming closer and closer to me.

Suddenly my eyes flutter open from the pillow. My breath is heavy as the remnants of my dream clings into my mind. Sweat dripped down my forehead. My shoulders tense as my arms hug the pillows tightly. The soreness in my throat and eyes is the second thing I notice about my body, the first being how much my head hurts. Basking in the warmness of the blankets I lay there for a few moments basking in the bitter memories as I listened to the bustling hallways around and the sounds of guests moving were clear to me. How long did I nap for? My mind drifts back to the dream causing a tear to form in my eyes. Pulling myself together I push my magic to propel the tears out of my eyes. Guess it's time to wake up again. I toss the blanket off of me being met with a cold snap just like how Mom would wake me up as tears threaten to return. I’m still in the clothes from when I woke up earlier and my Mom’s earrings are still dangling from my ears. Their shine in the sunlight illuminates my thoughts to a sweeter time. Taking a quick look in the mini mirror I see my hair is a mess. My hair is all tangled up causing it to look like a crow’s nest. Trying to untangle both my hair and my mind I grab my brush from the dufflebag. Brushing my hair every stroke stung as it pulled hair from my head. The tangled mess just wouldn’t budge no matter how much I brushed. Why can’t I do anything right? I toss my brush to the ground and tears start to stream out once again. Why did I think i could help Mom when I can’t even brush my own hair. My body shakes as I fall to my knees locking my eyes to the dirtied floor. Through tears I pull myself together grabbing a hair tie from the dresser next to the floor, I put my hair in a messy bun wrapping a hair tie around to try and make it look somewhat neater without going through the pain of untangling it. My knees still bucked to the floor I try to take a few slow breaths trying to calm myself down but it's not working. A memory of my parent's smiles flash in my mind, giving me a soft comfort. Controlling my breathing I’m able to pull myself togther and stand up. Patting down my clothes I knock off some dust and dirt making it appear a little less wrinkly and presentable. Dragging my feet to the door I stood in place. Taking a deep breath and mentally prepared myself to appear a little less sad afterall Dad always had a smile even when things were tough, I opened the door and walked out.

Heading straight for the front desk I see that the Old Hag is nowhere to be seen, not even her pen and papers shifting around. Maybe she's at the dining hall? Shuffling towards the dining hall with my eyes peeled for any movement of her I notice that the hall is filled with patrons all looking like they have just recently awoke from a long night. Some are chowing down on some breakfast while others are savoring a cup of coffee. The tables are mostly packed but a few remain untouched. I notice that on one of the oaky tables, a set of dirty plates lay about. That's when I noticed the doors on the side of the room brush open with the Old Hag walking out with a large server plate in her hand. She walks over to a table that is sipping their coffee and starts placing steaming hot plates in front of the guests. Afterward, she took a turn to the table that had clutter on it and removed the dirty dishes. As she is walking back to the side room she stops by and tells me good morning. She then motions for me to join her in the side room. Eh, why do I have to follow her? She gives me a stare down until my feet start to drag across the floor. Following her steps I enter into the kitchen of the side room where the Old Hag is placing the dirtied dishes next to the sink. She heads to the fridge and pulls out a tray of uncooked sausages and she places these sausages over the heat. I’m standing there like an idiot when she opens her mouth, “Angel dear, can you please start washing the dishes?” Taken a bit aback at her asking me to help with chores, really chores now?! I just woke up! “I just woke up though.” The Old Hag puts her hands on her hips, “And I own the room you’re staying in.” Beaten I shrug my shoulder, I guess I can help, “Fine.” I walk over to the sink and start to scrub the dirt and grime off some silverware while the Old Hag is doing some cooking. She starts up a conversation, “How did you sleep?”

While my hands are rinsing off a cleaned plate I respond, “I slept ok.” I see it as the short and sweet response after she's making me do some of these stupid chores.

My back is still towards her as she keeps going, “You know, it's rude to refer to your elders as old.” Of course, another thing to think about. “I know.” I give another short response while my hands scrub away. We sit in silence for a while pushing through the breakfast rush until eventually, the Old Hag tells me that we are done for the morning. My clothes are soaking wet and dirty from all the dishes I cleaned. I start channeling my magic to pull the water out of my clothes but the Old Hag puts her hands on to stop me. Why is she grabbing me now?

Her hands on my wrist she looks me up and down giving a short silence as she studies me. My nerves of course are going again not to mention my anger is starting to rise. Is she going to tell me again I can’t use Mom’s magic? Is she really?! I’m going to go ballistics if she even tries to mention that! She finally speaks, “Angel go wash your clothes manually. Remember to use an apron next time.” Did she really just say that?! I pull away from her grasp about to scream at her but she has such a dominating glare in her eyes. “Fine.” I walk away annoyed towards my room to grab new clothes but once I start channeling my magic to pull the water off my body. Picking out a nice dress I change into not just dry clothes but a magically dry body too, take that dumb Old Hag. Grabbing my dirtied clothes I walk outside to the washing area where I see the Old Hag washing some sheets. She singles me over next to her I roll my eyes at her but she doesn’t notice as I walk over and take a seat next to her. She showed me how to scrub off the dirt and rinse in the water multiple times. I could do this so much faster by using magic! Watch and learn, I start to channel the water into the clothes and then I feel something sting my arm. Losing concentration the water falls back and I look down at a red mark. THIS OLD HAG JUST SLAPPED ME. I stand up and am about to storm off but before I can do anything she grabs me and pulls me back down. The Old Hag orders me to start washing my clothes, I angrily splash the clothes into the water basin causing them to splash, getting some water on the Old Hag, ha take that! While I grab the sponge I muster all my energy into the scrubbing, all the pain, all the anger, all the sadness. My hands start to burn from the scrubbing but the Old Hag places a hand on my shoulder causing my hand to slow down. The Old Hag speaks up, “Angel, my name is Zsofia, but you should call me Mrs. Rose.”

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

My hand stops for a moment, was she actually really annoyed with me for calling her Old Hag all this time? She really just slapped me and made me do chores so of course she's an Old Hag. I looked at her face about to yell at her but her expression looked too much like Mom’s. Looking away I mumble an apology, “Sorry,” afterward, I continue the scrubbing in complete silence. After I finished cleaning I hung up the clothes on the clothesline to dry, I could use my magic but the Old Hag would be all angry about it. Thinking of the Old Hag she starts talking again, “You remind me much of myself when I was younger.” She drops this bomb of information while cleaning some pillowcases. Taken a bit surprised I stand there dumbfounded in front of the drying rack, “How so?”

She takes a deep breath her mouth moving into a reminiscent smile, “You try to act more mature than you really are.” Her hands move swiftly as she wrings out the laundry preparing for it to dry. As she walks up next to me she hangs up the pillowcases as my eyes stay focused on her, “Let me tell you a story. Come let's sit inside.” She singles to the inn. “I don’t think I want to be bored by some Old Hag’s story.” I reject her proposal with a smug look on my face. She responds with an even more smug look, “Either you can listen to my story or we can keep doing laundry.” My eyes glance back and forth from the Old Hag and the laundry, “ugh why do you always try to do this? Fine!” The Old Hag rolls her eyes and starts walking towards the inn. Can’t believe she keeps trying to act like my Mom.

Sitting down in the dining area the Old Hag brings a pot of tea with her and two cups. She pours herself and me a cup of herbal tea. She takes a slow sip, before placing it back down on the table and locking eyes with me. I do the same. “I grew up as an orphan.” My fingers grasp the handle of my cup as I try to hide my surprise. That’s a mouthful to take in. My mind gives me a flash of Mom and Dad hugging me. The Old Hag’s chin rests on her hand as she continues, “No one ever wanted to take me in which made me the oldest child for most of the time. Which was fine for the most part until that fateful day came.” She picks up her cup of tea and takes a sip, I copy her. “When I turned 16 the orphanage told me I had to leave.” My eyes go wide at this, they really made her leave as soon as she turned 16?! Thats insane! The Old Hag looks out the window, “I had to leave the only way of life I knew and the ones I called my family.” My jaw hangs slightly open which she takes notice of, “Close your mouth, it's unlady-like.” I shut my mouth. How can she be worried about being ladylike when she's telling me all of this? Her sharp eyes turn back to the previous reminiscent shade, “I had to leave everything and everyone I knew behind but do you know what I still had?” I shake my head no. “I still had the memories of the past. The same memories that taught me how to live. The same memories that taught me how to care. The same memories that taught me how to act like a lady.” Her eyes lock on me as she takes another sip of her tea, this time I do not copy her as my mind is running circles around my thoughts about why she is telling me this. She continues, “I was left to the streets and I had to find some way to get bread. At first it was difficult and I may have stolen a few pieces of bread but eventually, I was able to get an unladylike job as a wheat grinder.” No way the Old Hag who is all about being lady-like really worked such a dirty job at a farm. My mind started to drift to the stories my parents would tell about having to camp out in the dirty wilderness, Mom was definitely not ladylike. I give myself a pinch to refocus myself onto the Old Hag her lips kissing the teacup as she takes a sip. “Even though I was far from the orphanage it still taught me many skills, like how to be a lady.” She takes another sip of her tea as I listen in. “I never gave up on pursuing my memories even when the nights were cold.” A long pause ensues as I take in what she is saying. “I wanted to return to the orphanage, I wanted to return to cleaning, I wanted to return to being the big sister.” She puts her cup down letting it rest in another long pause. I gulp my eyes still fixed on the Old Hag’s lips. “But I could never go back to the past.” I interupt, “What does this have to do with me?” She gives me a shrug, “Nothing dear its just a story.” I give her the side eye as I try to untangle my memories. “Eventually I pushed through the hardest part of my life and saved up enough money to buy this inn.” She looks around with a prideful smile. “Eventually my pride and join came into my life.” She leaves it at that and stands up. She picks up our tea cups taking them back to the kitchen. “Wait! Don’t leave it at a cliffhanger like that! Thats cruel even for an Old Hag.” The Hag gives me a stupid shrug, “I’ll tell you another time but first I want you to take me to your room.” Why!? Stupid stupid stupid Old Hag if you were gonna tell me a story like that at least tell me how to move forward. I kick the ground in frustration as memories of my old life flashed through my mind, the memories trying desperately to linger, to remind me of the past. The Old Hag places her hand on my shoulder and asks again about my room. I give in.

Leading her through the oaky hallway I twist the knob of my door showing her my messy room. She studies it but doesn’t comment on the mess. Thank God I was not in the mood for another lecture. She points to a chair, “Take a seat let's brush your hair its a mess.” Oh, so she just wants to give me another lesson about being ladylike, figures. Even though I am getting a little annoyed at this point I take the seat, she stands behind me and with a brush in her hand, she starts to talk. “Do you know why I told you my story?” The brush glides through my hair as I respond, “No.” Old Hag speaks slowly, “Because you are dwelling on the past.” A sharp pain comes as the brush goes through a knot. I let out a mumbled reply, “I know.” The brush goes through another knot causing my head to jerk. “Then why are you dwelling on the past?” A pain shoots through my body not from the brushing but from something inside. I force out a mumbled response, “I don’t know.” Memories of my once-happy family playing cards rush through my mind. “They’re gone, Angel.” I watch as flames burn the walls of my family home slowly encroaching towards Mom and Dad. “I know.” I watch Mom and Dad catch fire as my arms flail in my mind trying to hold onto them. “But you aren’t gone, your memories of them aren’t gone.” I watch as the flames start to climb my parents’ legs. “Don’t disgrace them by dwelling on the past.” I watch the air start to get cold as my Mom grabs me in her hands. “Honor them by making new memories.” My Mom tosses me out of the building and I stare at the house as flames engulf the place. “Honor them by becoming the lady that they wanted you to be not the girl they saved.” I watch as the house freezes solid, looking down I see my hand stretched out like I cast the magic but I didn’t. “There your hair’s all done.” My body turns around seeing someone who looks just like me, but older, prettier. I see the lady my parents wanted me to be. I see the more confident me, the stronger me with her arm out and magic swirling around her. I run my hand through my newly brushed hair and whisper under my breath, “Thank you.” The older me smiles at me before fading away into my memories. The Old Hag leaves the room, tears trickling down my face but hidden underneath a smile creeps awake. I still miss you, but I promise to try to be the lady you want me to be please don’t forget about me wherever you are. I look up at the ceiling feeling the tears go past my cheeks. Wiping them away I stand up running my hand through my newly brushed hair a new memory added to the ocean of thoughts, a pleasant memory.