Page 94 of Not Today, Satan
I’ve never been on this side of death before. Despite being told my mother was dead, I never knew her, so I didn’t grieve her as the person she was. I only grieved the absence of the person I needed.
This is different. I miss everything about Nate. His laugh, the comfort of his touch, and even his corny jokes.
Everything hurts without him, and even getting out of bed is harder. He’s the one person I know could make me feel better. Except that he’s no longer here to do that, and it sucks.
Death is so much easier to live with in Hell.
“I should be happy,” I continue. “Mom’s everything Father’s not. Kind and caring, warm, and gentle. But instead of leaning into her, I keep pushing her away because I don’t want her if I can’t also have you.”
Tears streak my face, and I swipe at them with the Kleenex Mom shoved into my hand in the car. Heat blooms from my chest and down my arms as anger sears through my veins. I gasp as the tissue catches fire and drop it to the ground before stomping on it. Sobs blast through my chest, so violent I can’t control them. I smash the burned tissue under my boot like I should have smashed Alex and wail.
It’s not fair. Give him back, universe. Give him back.
Arms find their way around me, and Mom’s pulling me into her, shushing me and holding me still. “It’s okay, honey. Let it out. I’m here.”
I squirm in her arms, but she only hugs me tighter. With a bellow over her shoulder, I stop struggling and sink into her embrace. She smooths my hair as I close my eyes and cry.
“It hurts,” I wail into her shoulder. “It hurts so much I can’t bear it.”
“I know.” She combs her fingers through my hair and rubs my back as my heartbeat slows. “Grief is a strange thing. It’s normal to be mad and to be sad and all the things in between.”
I bury my face into her shoulder, soaking her gray blouse with tears. “I hate this. I just want it to stop.”
“It’ll feel awful for a while. But the only way to heal your pain is to go through it. I know it seems impossible now, but there’s life after grief, and Nate wanted you to live it. It’ll just look different because he’s not there.”
She pulls another Kleenex out of her purse and hands it to me. “Let’s go home. I’ll make you something to eat, and you can change out of those damp clothes. It won’t fix everything, but you’ll feel a little better. I promise.”
I nod and follow her to the car, glancing behind me as Nate disappears from view for one last time.
I can’t bring myself to say goodbye. The word tangles in my throat and catches on my tongue.
Not that it matters. He can’t hear it, anyway.
When we return to Mom’s place, I make my daily call to the hospital that’s caring for Alex, posing as his “sister.” He still hasn’t woken from the coma he’s been in since they admitted him. The nurse tells me that his vitals aren’t great today, but for now he’s stable.
Flopping onto my bed, I bury my face in the pillow and scream at whatever kind of being thinks it’s fine to keep Alex alive while Nate’s most likely being punished—again—for crimes he never committed.
I try to distract myself by changing out of my funeral clothes, but as I stare into the mirror, my glamour fades and the black-and-gold wings appear behind my shoulders. They flap around me, ruffling my hair, and a familiar anger clenches my jaw.
This is all her fault. My mother and her angel blood. If I wasn’t part angel, I wouldn’t have cared about saving Alex. I would’ve made sure to send him to Hell where he belongs. These wings are reminders of the parts of me I didn’t ask for. The things I don’t want.
Father is stronger without his wings.
Maybe I’ll be, too.
I dart into the hall and grab my sword from beside the front door, my chest heaving.
“Devica?” Mom calls out from the kitchen, but I ignore her and march back to my room. She’s quick to follow. “What’s going o—”
I slam the door in her worried face and stand in front of the mirror, sword raised behind my back. Gritting my teeth, I close my eyes and brace for the pain.
Do it, Devica. It will only hurt for a moment, and it can’t be worse than how you feel inside.
My door flies open, and Mom barrels through. “Devica, no!”
“The wings have to go,” I shout. “If I get rid of them, I’ll be strong enough to finish Alex off like I should’ve in the first place.”
My mother steps between me and the mirror, tears in her eyes. “Devica, those wings don’t make you who you are. It’s your heart that chose to help Nate and allowed Alex to live. You can’t cut that out.”
