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Authors: Abra Ebner

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Book of Love

Knight Angels

Book of Love

. . .

By Abra Ebner

. . .

Published by Abra
Ebner at Smashwords

Copyright © 2010 Abra
Ebner

. . .

Life is the only drug we need.

It is better to feel the intensity of emotion,

than nothing at all...

It’s the only life we’ve got.

. . .

Killing Truth

By Tessa Rei

Your face blinds me from the truth
that fallows

That retched, annoying, nagging
truth that swallows

Swallows me whole in its dark mouth
as I fighting for air

Searching everywhere for the way out
but finding it nowhere,

Blind in this colorless monster of
guilt I see your face

Pulling myself closer to you as I
pick up this shameful pace

I’m in this lonely pit with or
without you, and there is no sound

Only this shit in my blasted head
spinning all around

I call out to you; oh please can you
hear me?

Echoes in this darkness are all I
hear, nothing is what I see…

Placing my hands in front of me to
brace my fall

Calling out to you again but hearing
nothing at all

I scream as long as these lungs will
hold this breath

Feeling something beneath me break,
I’m falling closer to death

I will remain here dying until I
find you

This truth is killing me, why? What
will I—or can I do?

As my last breath escapes me there
is a comforting voice

Hello… its you… now you have left me
with no choice

I cry out quietly for you once
more

Opening my eyes I can see
you more colorful than before…

. . .

: Diary of Jane Taylor
:

When I think of death, I don’t see what
everyone else does. There’s a soft whisper when you find it, and a
voice telling us that it’ll be okay.

We never die alone, because they are always
there watching over us, protecting us, and guiding us. They are
silent, like a simple gust of wind; but it is in this wind that our
world can change.

Mine did.

When the accident happened, and my father
died, I was there. I saw them. I can’t remember their faces, but I
knew they weren’t human.

There were two—one was the murderer and one
was my knight; I was spared. Ever since, the nightmares of death
haunt me.

Somewhere deep inside, I know that I should
be dead.

Max:


Brother!” Erik’s laugh was
boisterous—a refreshing, admittedly lively, sound.

I laughed in return, leaning down to give
him a hug.


It’s been ten years, Max.
What brings you back?” Erik looked into my eyes, his face sallow,
aged, and lined with concern.


Ten years went by fast,” I
remarked.

He laughed. “Fast for you, perhaps.” He
lifted one brow, now dappled with grey. “So tell me, why come back
now?” He had a knowing look on his face.

It was hard to see him like this, and soon
he would be gone. Soon, I would have to take him. “Erik, I had to
come back.” I avoided his gaze, knowing he saw right through my
attempts to evade my reasons.

Erik was my younger brother whom had
survived the slaughter of my family. He survived because I’d given
my life to do so. It was that day that changed my fate forever. It
was the day I became what I am.

Erik laughed. “I always knew you would come
back. You always do. No matter how hard you try, you cannot forget
that little girl, can you?”

I sighed, thinking of her. “It’s not that,
Erik.” I lied, hiding a smile. “And she’s not a little girl
anymore,” I added.

He pointed at me, his hands wrinkled with
age. “You cannot fool an old man, Max.” He grunted as he pushed his
wheelchair away from the large mahogany desk in the study. “You
failed to hide that smile, though you think you did.”

I let the smirk show. “I’m an old man too,
Erik.”


Ha!” he hooted, followed
by a cough. “But look at you! You’re still seventeen and as
handsome as ever. I always hated you for that.”


No matter how I look,
Erik, I will always be your older brother.” I plucked the picture
of my sister-in-law from his desk and looked at it. “Besides, it
was I that was jealous of you. You lived a normal life. You got to
love, live, and soon…” My voice trailed off, jealous of his
eventual death.

Erik, on the other hand,
hated the idea of death. He changed the subject. “You know I hate
it when we talk of such things
.
It makes me feel old.” He rolled his
eyes.

When I died, Erik had a hard time adjusting
to the fact that he was aging, while I did not. The day he
surpassed me was his worst, but it was one of my worst as well. I
knew that one day he would be gone, and I would be alone, at least
emotionally. He rolled over to me and took the picture from my
hand.


Meredith, my love,” he
whispered.

I watched him stare at her image, his eyes
filled with an emotion I finally understood. “She was wonderful,
Erik. Like a sister and a mother to me.” Her laughter resonated in
my head, warming my silent heart.

Erik laughed. “First a sister, and then a
mother as she grew old, right?”

I smirked. “Something like that.”

I felt the presence of our real mother enter
the room then, like a breath of life. I smiled. I could always feel
her, but I was never allowed to see or hear her. It was the cruel
torture I was put through being as I was, stuck somewhere between
the two worlds, shut out from the thrill of feeling their
reach.

Erik’s face sank. “Have
you seen
him
at
all?”

I frowned, losing the
feeling of my mother as she slipped away at the mention of
him
. “No. Not for a very
long time.”

Erik smiled. “Do you ever think he’ll come
back?”

I placed the picture of
Meredith on the desk. “I want to assume that he won’t, but I don’t
think we’re that lucky. We’re never that lucky.”
Him
was Greg. He was my
fraternal twin brother, and in our state, we were bound together in
thought and soul, both stuck in the in-between.

Erik said nothing as he rolled over to a
window that looked out from the second story and onto the gardens
below. “Well, I’m glad you’re back. I just don’t…” his voice
cracked.

I shut my eyes, feeling
his pain and hearing his thoughts. He was afraid of Greg—afraid
that he would come for him in the end. “Erik, you know I would
never let that happen. You belong with me. I will not let him take
your soul. Not there.” Greg’s world was different than
mine—
darker
.

Erik was again silent, but I could hear the
whispers in his mind. “Is that why you came back? To take me?”

I exhaled slowly. “No, Erik. It’s not your
time.” I lied, knowing it was within the coming months. No man
should know when that time would come. I wanted him to enjoy what
life he had left.

Erik turned then, a renewed sense of life in
his eyes. “I do wish to be with Meredith again, but not yet.” He
smiled. “What will you do with your time here? For how long can I
expect you’ll stay?”

His questions were ones I was barely able to
ask myself. I did not know how long it would take before I could no
longer stand being here, but I needed to try—for her. “I’ll go back
to school, I suppose. See how that pans out.”

Erik let one boisterous
laugh leave his lips.
“School?
My dear brother, just the mention of that word
brings chills to my heart. Didn’t get enough before, did
you?”

I laughed. “I realize that your academic
experience was anything but enjoyable with all the deaths you
endured. You were uprooted and scared—I understand. But trust me,
Brother, I will be fine. I still have that senior year to finish,
even if it is eighty years too late.”

Erik lifted one brow. “I just hope you’re
right. Senior year can be horrid.” His eyes were wide. “Especially
these days. Things aren’t like they were eighty years ago.”

I laughed. “What do you know of high school
these days?”

Erik shrugged. “Enough. Trust me.”

I looked at my watch. “Speaking of… I’m
going to be late.”

Erik laughed with a cheery smile. “So soon!
My, you don’t wallow in the mud do you? I haven’t seen you in
decades, and here you are, back as though nothing has changed!”

I shrugged. “I have a long life ahead of me,
Brother, and I don’t want to waste it.”

Sarah:


Jane.
Emily!” I slammed the cup of orange juice down on the counter.
“Jane! Emily!
Hurry
up!
” I looked at my watch. It was already
7:53 and I was late for my shift at the hotel. Being a single
mother had never been easy, especially now with two teenage
girls.

I walked across the kitchen and grabbed a
dry piece of toast from the toaster and shoved it in my mouth. I
never regretted having the girls, but I did regret having them at
such a young age. If I’d waited, my husband’s accident would have
happened before they were as much as a glimmer in our eye, leaving
me with more options. But that wasn’t something to think of—not
anymore. My girls were my whole world now, and I loved them no
matter what the burden.

Jane was seventeen, but that’s what made it
hard on me. I’d been seventeen when I had her. I saw myself in her
eyes. I understood that I was far too young to handle a child. I
wished I’d known better.


Jane! Get your sister.
Let’s get going!” I yelled, crumbs flying from my mouth and onto
the tile floor. Since it was their first day, it was important for
me to drive them to school. I know it was embarrassing for them,
but I needed my few moments to be a mother, and this was one of
them.

Their father, John, had loved them
regardless of the age at which we’d had them. The world was
fleeting and unpredictable when we were young, and things changed
fast. After all, it was the seventies.

Jane was a surprise, and I remembered the
look on John’s face. He was so frightened to have her, but as she
grew, she and John forged a bond so strong, it was seemingly
unbreakable. Emily, on the other hand—John had distanced himself
from her, and I never understood why. There was always guilt in his
eyes over the fact, as though the distance was painful to him.

I was jolted out of my daydreaming as the
pounding of footsteps descended the stairs. My pain was replaced by
relief. It was their first day, and I was excited to finally have
them back at school. At least now I’d know where they were—

Especially Emily.

Jane:

I hated first days. I hated everything. I
was tired of the same struggle to make friends, fit in, and make
grades.

I didn’t understand why I felt so lost, or
why I felt as though I didn’t belong here anymore. And when I say
belong, I mean the fact that I couldn’t shake the dreams of death I
had every night, and the foreseen deaths of everyone around me. The
nightmares followed me, and I knew it was because I should have
died with my father.


Jane,
make sure your sister gets to all her classes, will you? I don’t
have time to worry about her today,” my mother nagged, her hair
falling from her lose ponytail. I knew how busy she was, and how
hard she tried for us, but we were
her
choice.

I looked at my sister as she gave me a glare
that reminded me to leave her alone. Today was Emily’s first day in
high school. She didn’t need her big sister hanging over her like
the overprotective freak that I was.


Okay, everyone! Into the
car!” My mother ushered us both out the door, handing us each a
five dollar bill for lunch.

It was barely enough to buy a bagel and
milk—not that Emily would buy anything anyway. Emily was your
typical dark, troubled teen, and a handful at that. Since she was
thirteen, I’d relentlessly watched her like a hawk, dragging her
from one high school party after the next. She was smart, though,
but because we had held her back in elementary school, her advanced
sixteen years of age over her fellow fifteen year old peers had
added to her unfortunate arrogance.

I couldn’t help but worry about her. I’d
seen the nightmares with her in them. The image of her lying dead
like that haunted me—her eyes blank, her body cold. I watched her
walk in front of me with the weight of anxiety in my heart. The
scary thing was that now, she was in high school, making the task
to protect her more of a challenge. The parties would be more
accessible, the drugs like candy sold at a corner store, and the
boys—

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