“In Jesus name we pray, Amen.” Angela finished and got into bed, looking out the window to her right.
The stars glittered and blinked, as if winking to her. They know secrets I couldn't imagine. she thought in wonder. Annoyed at the wonders of the world, she snuggled into her covers and lifted them over her head. But in here I know secrets that no one else could. She giggled. In her imaginary world, she was not plain Angela. She was Angelica, knower of all, and no one could take that from her. Her scraggly black hair fell infront of her in a haze, begging to get out of the cramped blanket tent. She sighed and lifted the covers, looking back to the window. The stars are different now, she thought. Always changing. As if to answer her, the stars suddenly glowed, an eruption of light from every one. Then a star went out. And another. The light was extinguished like a black blanket being pulled over the sky. One star remained, one that she hadn't noticed before. It glowed blue and grew bigger and bigger, until it took up her whole window. The star dissapeared and she heard a crash underneath her window. She jumped out of bed, hair flying. She was now Angelo, a brave adventurer. She put on a fluffy explorer's coat over her red striped pajamas and ran out of her door, sprinting through the house and out the door. The moment her feet touched the snow she took on another new life. Now she was Angelina, the snow queen. She was inspecting a disturbance in her lands. She twinkled over the snow on tippy toes, twirling and gliding. But when she came to the snow bed under her window, she stopped. Angela again. The cold set in on her. The stars came back in the sky. And there was a little boy with angel wings sleeping in the snow.
"Angels!" she screamed and woke up.
Her parents from the other room rushed to her aid.
"Honey, honey, what's wrong?" her mother cooed.
"There's an angel! In the snow, beneath my window!"
"What happened last night?" said her father, kneeling down to be at her height in the bed.
"I went outside, I heard a crash...Wait, I heard then crash, then I went outside..." she stuttered. "And there was an angel boy!" she said and spread out her arms to show how big the situation was.
Her mother clucked. "Silly girl. We found you passed out in the snow last night! Why on Earth did you go out in the middle of the night to dig a hole?" she scolded her and pushed a knotted black hair out of her face.
"But I didn't dig a hole! There was an angel! I swear, there was!" she said frantically.
Her father shushed her. "It's all in your head, Angie. It was just a dream, there's no angel outside." he said in a soothing voice.
She huffed and crossed her arms. There was an angel outside. I wasn't dreaming. she sighed and went back to sleep.
The next day, Angela went to look for the angel. But as her parents had said, the gash in the ground was void of angelic activity. No white feathers scattered the ground, although she was sure she had seen some. There was no sparkle in the air, as she had seen surronding the winged boy. So she had no proof what-so-ever. She crossed her arms and ran inside.
Angela woke up with a start. The sun wasn't up yet, which she noticed as she looked out the window. The same window from the dream... she thought in wonder. She decided she would tell her parents about the dream later. It seemed so familiar, and that girl looked just like me. When I was six, of course. she smirked and propped herself up in her bed, looking at the room from her dream. It was exactly the same, except there were photos of birds plastered on her walls, and the sheets and rug had been changed from Winnie the Pooh into handmade Gwen Steffani tributes. She stepped out of bed, her feet gently touching the fluffy face of Gwen. She stretched her arms through her silky blue pajamas. Running to her dresser, she pulled out the first thing she saw, as was her routine. It turned out to be a lime green tee and a pair of bright orange shorts.
"Perfect!" she cooed.
Over the years her bright imagination had led her to bright clothes, which she found both stylish and comfortable. She quickly put her black bed-head into a ponytail and ran out the door, grabbing an apple and sprinting to the backyard. She walked to the place.
The place in the... "Dream." she said, mystified at her new discovery. Because right where her mother's flower bed should have been was a teenage boy with angel wings, sleeping in the daffodils.
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