I stared at the make-shift noose. The old leather belt suspended in the air was as still as my pounding heart would soon be. Some force more powerful than I could resist guided me forward, toward my end. My numb legs felt oddly disconnected from my body as they lifted me up onto the chair. I was hardly aware of how my hands reached for the creased belt, taking it in my grasp, feeling the sturdy material between my shaking fingers. And in an instant, a million memories began flooding into my mind.

September 16, 2012

Walking onto the campus for the first time, I could feel the harsh rays of light hitting my face. I inconspicuously glanced at my feet every once in a while as I pretended to trudge miserably to my first college class; didn't want to seem too eager on the first day. But, of course, I was hardly able to contain myself on the inside. And being my uncoordinated self, I trip, making fool out of myself as usual. Before I could even register the fact that my foot hit the stupid little stump, I was on the ground. I quickly stood up because, well, I would rather not just lie flat on the ground like the uncoordinated idiot that I am. In my haste I knocked over an unsuspecting guys textbooks with my shoulder. If I were a normal person I would have leant over to help pick up the spilled books, but my face was just too red from embarrassment to stick around. So I mumbled a, "Sorry" and quickly fled the scene.

It wasn't until chemistry later in the week that I spotted him again. As soon as we made eye contact he recognized me. Before I could say anything he scooted into the seat next to me. It was like I could physically feel the awkward tension building between us. As soon as I decided I had to say something to relieve the silence, he spoke:

"I'm Malachi, you?"

Clearing my throat I softly replied, "Um, Clara."

I finally brought my eyes up to meet his and was immediately entranced. His eyes were a piercing green and reminded me of an icy burst of fresh air. The tousled golden locks that framed his handsome face made him look boyish and innocent, and I forced myself to ignore the sudden urge to reach out and touch him to make sure I wasn't make-believing. A set of perfect white teeth greeted me when his lips stretched back into a smile, and my heart began beating just a little too fast.

"So...shall we start?" he asked.

Hypnotized as I was, I began to stutter like an illiterate person. "I-um, yeah, yeah s-sure."

Malachi proceeded to take out the materials we would need for the lesson.

Not knowing what else to say I asked him "Are you, um, are you from around here?"

Just as he opened his perfect lips to answer my question, the professor came around and asked us in his bored and monotone voice if there was anything we would like to share with the class.

I embarrassedly looked down and shook my head, trying to keep the redness from flooding my cheeks as I felt the heads turn in our direction.

"No, sir. Clara and I were just beginning to start on the assignment," Malachi replied confidently.

It didn't convince me, but Professor Hanks walked away without another comment. Maybe he was won over by Malachi's award winning smile, too, I mused to myself.

Stealing a furtive glance at Malachi I found that he was looking at me too. I immediately cracked up at his sarcastically smug expression. My body shook with silent laughter and I had to put a hand to my face to shield my eyes from his, because I didn't think the professor would be so lenient if he saw us barely being able to conceal our juvenile laughter.

After class, Malachi and I sat together on the benches, talking about anything and everything. Marveling at his clear green eyes, I thought of how easy it was to talk with him. We talked like we had known each other since birth. And within a few weeks I had revealed my deepest insecurities, most personal wishes, and darkest secrets to him.

Long walks after school eventually morphed into daily coffee trips. Two coffees turned into one shared one. Swaying arms became linked and empty hands became gripped in each other's. I was convinced that Malachi was an angel. A beautiful angel created specially for me and sent down from the most beautiful parts of heaven. We were more than just a couple, I knew that much. We were soul mates. It shocked me, how quickly we fell in love. But I was young and didn't always have the greatest judgement.


One chilly November day, Malachi and I were driving to my parents' house for Thanksgiving dinner.

Malachi in the passenger seat reached out to hold my right hand. "So, I say after dinner, you and I have a real celebration at Chaz's," he said.

I sighed. He knew I hated that bar. It was so unsanitary, and the men there were more than obnoxious. "Malachi, you know I can't stand that place."

His golden locks bounced slightly as he turned his head to look into my eyes. His dark lashes fluttered as he blinked, giving me his best pleading face. I rolled my eyes in annoyance. It was Thanksgiving. I was not in the mood to spend our evening together at that old bar.

I shifted my body in the driver's seat to look at him, saying a silent prayer that I wouldn't succumb to the intensity of his pleading eyes as I always did.

Gathering all of my willpower I began to speak, "Malach-"

"Clara!" he suddenly exclaimed.

I quickly whipped my head around just in time to see the little yellow light turn to red, but it was too late to slam on the breaks. I didn't even have time to gasp before it happened. I heard the sound of screeching tires so close...too close.

The last thing I remember seeing was Malachi's angelic face. A very queer expression had overtaken his normal facade mere seconds before the dark green SUV slammed into the passenger's side. I was vaguely aware of the sound of shattering glass, metal being bent out of proportion, and sirens drawing nearer. But Malachi wasn't screaming as I was. He stayed silent, his head bent at an odd angle and the same strange look permanently sketched onto his face. He slowly faded from my vision until there was nothing but darkness.

Three days later I awoke with a start; I had been reliving the crash unconsciously, only this time as I stretched my neck to look over at Malachi's limp body, he picked up his head and looked me straight in the eye. I swear I could detect the tiniest flicker of what appeared to be a smirk on his lips...

Three days later and I could not wait to escape the blandness of my hospital room. After my sister had revealed to me that Malachi had not made it through the crash, I could no longer feel anything but the numbness which had overtaken my thoughts and emotions. The young nurse, whatever her name was, constantly checked up on me throughout the day. Her bright smile did not change my lack of feeling in the least bit. If anything it made me bitter. A rush of anger fled through my body every time I saw that annoyingly pleasant smile. How unfair it was that she could still have that ability to smile. She could find happiness in her day when I no longer could. My heart physically ached in my chest when I thought of him. My beautiful Malachi. Never again would I hear the smoothness of his masculine voice, or feel his toned arms around my shoulders, or see his eyes, so bright and green.

That evening right around the time I would usually be served my tasteless dinner, the young nurse came in and announced that I had been discharged with her usual cheery smile.

"Thanks," I told her in a monotone voice.

I gathered up my things that my sister had kindly brought over for my stay in the hospital, signed the necessary paperwork, and went outside to wait for my sister to pick me up.

I made my way over to the curb as my sister pulled up. Walking around the the passenger door, I slowly slid into the seat and shut the door.

"How're you feeling?" she asked cautiously. It bothered me that looked at me as though I had grown another head overnight.

"Fine," was my quick short reply.

After a couple minutes of driving in silence, Julie looked over at me. I don't look at her but I could feel her eyes on me every couple of seconds as she glanced at me, waiting for me to say something I assume.

Finally the silence must have been too much for Julie and she softly spoke:

"Clara, I know you are going through an incredibly difficult time right now, but I just want you to know that I'll always, always be here for you whenever you need me."

I continued to stare out the window.

"Please, just don't shut me out, Clara," she persisted. "I know that Malachi wouldn't have wanted you to-"

"Julie I really don't feel like talking about it right now," I finally spoke. The words came out a bit more harshly than I had meant them to, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

A short while later, I was standing in my own driveway of the small flat Malachi and I had occupied over the last few months, waving goodbye to my sister as she pulled out.

I slowly trudged to the front door, unlocked it, and stepped over the threshold. Flipping the light switch on, I let my body collapse onto the sofa, dropping my bag next to me.

Burying my face into the cushions I found it even harder to hold back the tears as his scent hit my nostrils. It was like being whacked full force in the face by the saddest memory I have ever experienced. I could feel the hot tears burn my eyes, and so I finally gave in to the lump clogging my throat.

I don't know how long I sobbed. It could have been hours, or maybe minutes, but I finally succumbed to the exhaustion I had been feeling since the accident, and let myself drift asleep.

His face was a little hazy, but it was there. My angel stood before me, arms crossed, and a calculating look upon his face.

"Malachi," I said. It wasn't a question, only a statement. He was there, in my dream. His chilly green eyes pierced my curious brown ones.

"Clara," he said in return.

His smooth voice gave me an involuntary shiver, and I continued to stare, mesmerized, into his vivid eyes.

"Clara, do you love me?" he asked. The way he asked that unnerved me. Didn't he know that already?

"Of course I do, you know that," I stated with certainty. How could he even ask me such an absurd question? I loved him with my whole heart and my entire being.

"Malachi, if I could trade places with you, I would do it in a heartbeat." My voice cracked toward the end of my sentence as I felt the guilt hit me full force in the chest. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't keep the mental images of the crash from filling my mind. If I would have just agreed to go to the stupid bar with him, I would have been able to pay attention to what was happening around me and I could have swerved out of the way of the dark green SUV.

"I'm sorry. I can't believe you right now." His figure began fading from my dream. He seemed to be physically dissolving before my eyes.

"Malachi! Wait!" I cried. I tried to run towards him but my feet were stuck.

My eyes flew open to find that I was still on my living room couch. My forehead was covered in a thin layer of cold perspiration. I tried to calm my pounding heart by taking a few deep breaths.
I stayed lying down on the couch for a long time. Had he really been there, in my dream? It felt like it had happened years ago but it couldn't have been more than a couple hours. Glancing at the clock, I realized that it was way past the time that we, well now only I, would normally have eaten dinner. Mechanically, I made myself I peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but I couldn't bring myself to eat more than a few bites.

That night, I couldn't fall asleep until close to two in the morning. It was harder to sleep without the comfort of knowing Malachi was sleeping right next to me.

I didn't return to school until after winter break. Mostly, I liked to be by myself doing my own thing. I went to my mom's house for Christmas Day and tried to act as normal as possible. I don't know if I completely fooled her, because she asked me if I was okay about every ten minutes. I've always been an unconvincing liar. I plastered a cheery smile on my face and replied with an "I'm fine" each time.

Walking onto campus that January felt like the first time again. I took that as an opportunity to start over. The past, of course, was still fresh in my mind. Every where I went I could feel him with me. His presence lingered in the classrooms and the on the benches where we sat every morning.

As I sat down in my first class I could feel eyes on me. The news, no doubt, had gotten around the school. I didn't look up because I didn't want anyone's sympathy. So I remained silent and still for the entire math lesson, ignoring the pitiful smiles everyone seemed inclined to throw my way.

It wasn't until last class of the second day that I actually spoke to someone. His name was John. I recognized him from a few of my classes and around campus. I remembered we often saw each other at the coffee shop that Malachi and I would always visit. Malachi... His luring smile appeared before my eyes. His gleaming white teeth–

"Hey," John said to get my attention.

I looked over at him, upset and relieved that he had interrupted my day dreaming. I gave him a small smile to acknowledge that I heard him, but not long enough to imply that I wanted to talk to him.

"Clara, right?" he asked me. Apparently it was not obvious enough that I was uninterested.

I sighed. "Yes." I didn't ask for his name. I didn't want him to think that I was interested in him, not to mention that I already knew his name.

"I'm John. We have a few classes together."

I nodded slightly, only to be polite. Some people cannot take a hint.

"I'm, uh, sorry about what happened. You and Mallard were pretty close, huh?" His tome was caring and concerned. I don't know why, but that annoyed me even further, if that was even possible.

I huffed in annoyance. "His name was Malachi. And yes, we were close." I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

Whatever possessed him to reach out his hand, I don't know, but his soft skin covered mine in an attempt to comfort me. I wanted to pull my hand back by instinct, but his touch actually calmed my nerves.

"Well, I am sorry," he stated. His eyes were kind and his voice sincere.

"Thank you," I told him. I appreciated his genuineness, and regretted being so hostile toward him.


That night he came back again.

"Malachi." I didn't know how to greet him. I wasn't sure wether I should be scared or grateful to see him. Did he see me talking to John? Was he angry, jealous?

He gave me a scrutinizing look. "Do you love me, Clara?" he asked.

"Of course I do Malachi. I promise. How can I prove it to you?" I questioned. I missed him so much it was as if I had a constant stomach ache.

"That boy you were talking to today...John. Never talk to him again. If you love me Clara you will never talk to that boy again." He spoke as if he knew something that I did not. Of course he came back after he saw me taking to him. Never did he come when I hosted myself a crying fest every other night in my bedroom. Nor did he come when I screamed and clawed at myself to the point where I would sometimes make myself bleed in order to deal with the agonizing guilt I felt over the crash.

I furrowed my eyebrows in preparation of asking him why on earth he would want me to do that. But, the angry flash in his eyes warned me not to.

I slowly nodded my head in understanding. Why though? I couldn't understand.

He looked into my eyes for a long time. "Don't forget, I'll be watching." And once again his face faded from my dream and I woke up in the middle of the night, startled.

That day at school I avoided John as much as I could. At the end of the day as I was walking to my car, he spotted me and waved me down. I couldn't pretend I didn't see him because as soon as he said my name I had accidentally looked in his direction. I waited for him to reach where I was standing, trying to come up with some kind of way I could tell him never to speak to me again.

"Hey, Clara. I was wondering if you wanted to go get coffee at that little shop around the corner," he inquired, breathlessly.

Malachi never would have been out of breath from running that short of distance. His hair would have been windswept and his eyes would be sparkling.

Of course I knew which shop he was talking about. So many memories began flooding into my mind as I thought of that small coffee shop. It was where Malachi and I had our first kiss. It was the place where he told me he first loved me...
"No. No, I'm sorry, I can't. And please, John, just leave me alone from now on, okay?"

"W-what?" he asked, bewildered.

"I'm serious, John. Just don't talk to me anymore."

As I made to get into my car, he put a hand on my door to where I could open it.
"What's the problem, Clara? Tell me."

I rolled my eyes as if in annoyance. "It's just...too soon." Sure, that worked. "Will you let me get into my car now?"

"Fine," he said.

Little did I know that the last time I saw his face would in my rear view mirror as I drove away.


The next morning, I found it odd when John wasn't in class. I did my best to put it to the back of my mind. I wasn't supposed to think about him anymore. I only loved Malachi.

As I was walking toward toward my history class that afternoon my friend Anna came running up to me. I slowed my pace so she could catch up to me.
"Clara!" she panted, "Did you hear? Did you hear what happened to John?"

My stomach dropped. I could tell by the look on her face that she wasn't going to tell me that he just won the lottery. "No. Why? What happened?"

"He was hit by a car last night, riding his bike! Apparently he was on life support all night and he passed away this morning. Isn't that so terrible, Clara? I cried when Nate told me. It's just so sad. I saw you talking to him the other day. Were you two close? I just can't believe it."

Anna continued to ramble on but I couldn't hear a word she said. I could not believe it. What's worse is that I had a high suspicion that Malachi had something to do with it. No, I told myself, he would never. He couldn't even have the power to do that.

Even though I had only really known John for a few days, his death had a huge effect on me. My life almost went back to the way it was after Malachi died. The days spent in long boring classes had no meaning anymore. A week ago, it would have hardly mattered wether John was in class or not. But now, the extra empty seat stood out like there was a huge chunk missing from the room.


It had been 3 weeks since I last saw Malachi when he came back again.
As soon as I saw him I had to ask him. "Malachi, did you make that happen?"

He continued to stare at me. "I have no idea what you're taking about."

I couldn't tell if he was lying or not. He was always good about hiding his emotions.

"John, Malachi! John! Did you have anything to do with what happened to John?!" Anger and frustration boiled inside me. I had never been so angry with him before. It kind of scared me. But I had to know.

"He wasn't good for you. It's better that he's gone," he spoke stiffly. His expression was angry, and I didn't like it.

"W-why would you do that?!" I screamed. "All I did was talk to him! You didn't have to go and get him killed? What the hell is wrong with you?!"

He smirked. "You really shouldn't have said that. I thought you loved me, Clara. And with love comes sacrifice."

I stared at him in confusion.

And suddenly reality snapped back into place. The first thing that registered in my mind was pain. It was coming from my forearm. Looking down I gasped as I saw my arm.
"Ahhh!" I yelled in pain. Upon my wrist were the letters MDL, carved into my skin, I assumed, by the small knife that rest a few inches away from my right hand. Blood, my own blood, seeped from the cuts on my arm. Did I do that? Why can't I remember? It hurt so badly. Grabbing a napkin I gritted my teeth and squeezed my eyes shut as I began to pat the injured area, ridding my arm of the blood. I didn't realize it at first but as I felt the wetness on my lips I noticed that tears were leaking from my eyes and making their way down my face. Even when the pain faded, the letters were still there, forever etched into my arm.

At that time, I wasn't aware that this would not be the last time I woke up hurting and confused. I began wearing long sleeve shirts to hide the burns and the scars. The last thing I needed was for people to think that I was suicidal. How was I supposed to explain to my friends that my ex-boyfriend appeared to me in my dreams and then made me harm myself unconsciously?

Every night I called to Malachi to come. I needed to tell him to stop doing this. I loved him so much, but I couldn't understand why he was doing this to me. It scared me. But every time I became aware of what I was doing to myself, it was too late to stop it. It's like every time I tried to resist, my mind would no longer belong to me. It felt as though I was being pulled by invisible strings. Trying to resist the pull was like trying to run against the wind. It was so much easier to just let myself give in to his commands. Besides, how else could I prove my love to him? Love, fear...they went hand in hand with Malachi.


He didn't come back for a long time. And it had been months since I woke up with a new injury. As much as I loved Malachi, I was relieved that he no longer appeared to me.

It was in the beginning of summer when he came back for the last time.

I felt like I was expecting something to happen all day, but I couldn't put my finger on it. That night, I went to sleep still feeling a little wary.

I wanted to wake up as soon as I saw him, but I wasn't able to. My memory must have started to fail me because his eyes were more vivid than I remembered, and his smile more charming.

"Clara, do you love me?" He asked me this every single time. I always answered yes, but this time I took a little longer thinking about my answer than usual.

"Yes," I spoke hesitantly.

He took a moment before speaking. "Clara, if you love me, if you really truly love me, there is only one thing you can do to finally prove it to me. You will take your own life."

I stared at him in shock. His words did not register in my mind even though I plainly heard exactly what he said.

And suddenly my eyes flew open, and I was staring at the make-shift hanging from my ceiling. I arose from my bed. My feet moved of their own accord and before I knew it, I was standing right in front of it.

In a hypnotized daze, I stood on the chair placed directly underneath the belt.

Glancing at my reflection in the window, I caught a glimpse of my blank, empty stare.

It was that moment that I realized it.

Malachi, my soul mate, my everything, never had an ounce of love for me. He wasn't the angel I had always imagined him to be. He was an angel of death, sent from Hell, and I was his next victim. The realization overpowered my mind. My blank facade turned into one of horror. And suddenly I was choking, gasping for air as the noose tightened around my neck and the chair disappeared from beneath me. I hadn't even lifted a finger. O