Beautiful Demon: Book 1: Love's Lullaby

Prologue

Slam. I have been hit. I try to run away but my feet are slowing me down.

Smash. This time it was to the back of my head.

I drop to my knees and try to drag myself further away from my attacker.

Another blow causes an agonizing shriek to escape my numb lips. I give up and lay there frozen, my eyes drooping slowly into unconsciousness as the opposer draws closer. I faintly hear his muffled footsteps reach me and stop there. With my last efforts I grasp the white substance that now embraces my thin figure and clench it tightly. As I open my eyes just a slit’s length, under my eyelashes I see him kneeling down to brush the fresh snow off my face. Like ninja I quickly roll away onto my knees, throw the snowball as hard as my little arms can throw, and run away giggling. Got you! I proudly shout. He chased me and it did not take him long to catch me since he was always much faster, and we both tumbled onto the snow rolling and laughing hysterically.

That was life for me and Derek; easygoing, warm, simple. Two kids that spent every waking moment playing together in the frosty mountains of Garden Island, Alaska. Our families have been long time friends and that made it easy for Derek and I to instantly connect, natural as vines hugging a growing tree, growing along with it. We have been companions since infantry. It has been like that for years. As I look at him now I can distinguish every inch, every angle, of his flawless form. I know him inside and out like the back of my hand, as I am sure he does for me. His strong hands are rough from all the times he helped his father build things. His father is an excellent repairman that could mend anything from a rusty, old car to a broken heart. He has the exact same shade to his skin as mine; a light copper color. The same straight dark hair and deep dark eyes as well. Eyes if you look hard enough you could see straight through your reflection, and right into his core.

As I now home in on his baby pink lips, I see one side pull up to a crooked smile. What are you looking at? he says mockingly to me. I quickly change my focus to the mountains ahead. Not much obviously. I replied and gave him a punch on the arm, feeble of course but There is more where that came from. I told him through narrowed eyes. He just chuckled and we sat for a good half hour just watching the sun set. The snow tipped mountains towering over my house are so beautifully vibrant with colors of the sunset making the snow shimmer like the waves of my picture books. I have never been anywhere besides this little town, and the few occasions when I have traveled to the big city nearby for errands with my parents have been limited. I have always been intrigued by the images in the storybooks my parents would read to me at night. During bedtime stories I can just picture the canopies of the tropical jungle, hear the soothing crashing of the waves. My mother tells me I will go to all of those places one day. Sometimes I believe her.

I look to the other side. There lies a steep cliff to which the Chena River flows along at the bottom. It looks like it goes on forever but approximately 23 miles from here it joins a much bigger river, the Tanana. Sometimes Derek and I would turn our backs to the cliff and throw brand new pennies behind our shoulders attempting to land it in the river. The shinier the penny is, the more likely your wish will come true. I usually wished for grand adventures. I do not know what Derek wished for, but I suppose it would be succeeding the big projects he and his dad attempted. Afterward, we would take a look down the steep cliff into what seems like an endless fall and ask each other, You think it fell in the river? But we would never get too close to the edge for fear of falling.

Winters in Alaska are pretty cold, ranging from 20 degrees Fahrenheit on a good day all the way to—50 whenever a severe blizzard came our way. On those days Derek’s family would come over while leaving the house was still an option and we would huddle by the fireplace telling stories and making lamka.

I am judging now it’s about 5 degrees. The icy Alaskan weather usually does not bother us since we are so used to it but now that twilight is falling, the temperature is dropping.

Derek rises to his feet while taking my hand and pulling me along back to the house. As his capable, rough fingers intertwine with my soft, delicate ones I begin to feel warmth slowly returning to my numb body. When we reach the doors he places his right hand on the lock pad, and the doors slide open easily as if they have been awaiting our return. Technically, this is my house but Derek’s family comes over so often that we have added the lock pad to read their hand prints as well.

There are our two favorite people! I hear my mother’s sweet voice sing. We walk over to sit by our parents on the cozy ivory-colored couch. My mother plays with my hair while my father holds me in his secure arms. I hear Derek laughing and look over to see his parents tickling him.

When he cannot handle anymore, he jumps off the couch to escape their grasp and runs upstairs, tugging me along with him by my jacket sleeve. We run up to the second floor and all the way up the spiral staircase to the attic at the top. My Startreker Telescope 4000 rests in its usual spot and the two of us take turns looking through it. See that one, he points and I put my eye to the lense wrinkling my Rudolph nose in concentration. I am going to name that star after you, Angesel, and we will travel through galaxies to get there. Derek shares my interest in expeditions. It is one of the many things I love about him. I continue marveling at my star until he stretched and said with a yawn, Well guess we better get back downstairs before they wonder where we are. I nodded and followed him faithfully. It was so dark I could not see where I was going. When I was younger I used to close my eyes and feel the walls, seeing how few times I could bump into them. In the pitch blackness I closed my eyes out of habit and started walking. I felt the railing and slid my right hand down it gently as I took each step further down, not needing to clench on for support but just feeling it gingerly for direction. My footsteps were a light thud steady and even. I could not hear Derek’s footsteps so I just focused on my own. As I laid my foot on the last step I began to wonder why all the lights were off in the first place. I snapped my eyes open and called out uncertainly, Mother? Father? No answer. Now I was starting to worry. Why do I not hear Derek’s footsteps? Is he even here? Louder this time, Where are you?, I traveled further into the living room trying to feel my way around. Out of nowhere, the lights flashed on and a loud racket of party noisemakers exploded behind me. It startled me so much that I felt the arm of the couch behind me and fell backwards onto it. When I came back to my senses I could then see everything surrounding me. The colorful banners draped over each doorway. So many balloons it blocked out the ceiling. Little strips of confetti descended all around landing all over my hair and clothes. Had it been white instead of the flecks of neon green, flaming red, sunlight yellow, and royal blue, I swear it would have looked like it was actual snow falling from our ceiling. Happy Birthday Angie Armana! they all cheered in unison.

Right away I realized what this was all about. It was January 3, 5000. As ridiculous as this sounds, I forgot my own birthday once again. You guys almost made me poop myself! I whined.

Derek leaned forward over the back of the couch to ruffle my now multicolored hair and a few strips fell. So is that what that smell was. He mocked.

My parents disappeared for a split second. I only had time to blink by the time they reappeared with the largest cake I had ever seen. It was smothered with the most beautiful golden frosting and embellished with elaborate periwinkle roses (my favorite color) and emerald vines, all stacked up in three layers just like a fancy wedding cake. I ran up to give my parents a hug and they lost their grip on the cake. Fortunately our friends, the Choguns, have fast reflexes. The birthday cake was already lit with seven colored candles all equidistant from each other in a perfect circle, each candle representing one whole year of my fantastic, deviating life. I admired the view of everything with the illuminating glow of the candles. Hurry up Angie before we are all going to eat pieces of wax with our cake. my mother insisted. Make this one count. added my father. I closed my eyes, took one deep breath, and wished for the one thing you never should. I wish this moment would last forever. With all my strength I gave it every ounce of breath within my lungs. Feeling pretty satisfied I opened my eyes and realized I only blew out four of them. I could tell they were all trying their hardest not to laugh and I felt the blood rush to my cheeks. Keeping my eyes open this time in order to determine which flame would be the most stubborn I blew them all out the second time which preceded a huge round of applause. Even though I knew they were just doing that for my benefit, I could not help feeling flattered and let out a little giggle.

Time for presents, Dearest my father announced and I heard a definite hint of excitement in his voice. We all came to sit around the fireplace. The first thing handed to me was a nicely wrapped package with curled ribbons entwined around. It was from my parents. I tried to open it with care but the pretty ribbons really made it a burden. The suspense was finally too much so I began to rip the packaging carelessly. What I uncovered was a little Native doll, with black yarn hair braided down both sides, wearing a sand-colored traditional dress and moccasins. I was hoping my eyes would not betray me but they were already welling up. This was exactly what I had wanted.

Some popular girl at school by the name of Cinder Gunfri had this exact same doll which she would happily carry with her everywhere she went. With her captivating smile and her honey colored locks I have always envied her, especially now with her new doll. She is not even of Native blood! When I had become tired of watching her show off her new treasure day after day, I had asked my parents if