David: My SacraficeMature

Her voice chimed as Ara yelled my name. Her broken body revived the memory of the mangled body of a broken, little girl, my only daughter. Sighing, I allowed Ara to reach her arms upward and wrap her arms around my neck. More memories were brought back.

"Ara," I spoke first, "child."

"Yes David?" Her hazel eyes grew, reminding me of the daughter I had lost and found, only to lose her tonight.

Clouding my vision, tears welled up in my eyes.

"Ara, I am here to explain everything. Be warned, as I tell you, the haze blocking your memories will lift."

Ara pulled herself to sit up as Balthasar sat beside her. Interesting. He loves her, but cannot tell her. I pray the prophecy is incorrect about the pain in the near future.

"You were too young when you died. Born of the day of love to Catherine, your mother, and I. We cherished you, even as a baby, you were still the most beautiful. Sadly, Catherine died shortly after your birth, and I became your only guardian."

Tears cascaded down from Ara's eye as memories of Catherine flooded her mind. 

"I raised you from then, watching as you began crawling, talking with such intelligence, and walking and dancing gracefully about the house. I just wish we would have had more time together," I said with a heavy heart.

"What do you mean?" Balthasar's eye revealed panic and terror, I knew this would change him.

"I can only show you," I grabbed Ara's hand and rested my hand on Balthasar's forearm.

Little pitter-patter of tiny feet sounded against the wood floors.

"Rose," I called. "My little rose, it is time for a snack!"

"Yay!" Delight sounded from the above room.

THUD! CRACK! CLANK! THUMB! A loud series of noises echoed from the stairs and I felt panic rise within my stomach.


I turned the corner from the kitchen to see the white stairs coated in thick red stains as glass scattered the floor from the broken picture frames. My petite daughter lay in a twisted heap, her small stomach rising and falling faintly. Her neck was twisted oddly, and the wounds from glass on her head still bled. Grabbing a washcloth from the bathtub, I pressed it against her deep cuts, praying the blood would stop flowing. As I cradled my little rose in my arms, Ara reached her small hand and touched my cheek.

"Daddy," she whispered. "I love you."

She stared at me, the life draining from her eyes as she turned cold as ice. Pressing her small frame to my body, sobs wracked my body and I petted her dark blonde hair, begging for her to wake up for the brownies I had made her.

Feeling the anguish crash down upon me, I searched for one last memory.

Blankly staring, I sat by the shining, grey headstone. 

Arabella Rose Tyller
Sleep in peace my little rose bud.
 February 14, 1997-July 29, 1999
Daughter of Catherine and David

Silver words engraved underneath a clear diamond. I held the long, cold blade in my hand, contemplating if I would end my life at this moment. Then the air became suddenly thinner, as if I were choking on my own breath. With my heart racing, a large beat thundered in my chest faster. I lifted the knife, only to drop it as darkness enveloped my being.

As the memories ceased, I spoke, "I had a heart attack right before I committed suicide. I could not handle the grief, you were only two years old."

Ara inquired, "How did I remember Ara?"

"When you died, you went to Purgatory. There you aged until the Council of the Guardians were ready for you. Most people die, go to Heaven rejuvenated, but special, talented people are used in prophecy foretold many years before." I replied, "I am so sorry Arabella. I hate to leave and I will regret this forever."

"Dav-Dad-what are you intending?!"

"David, you can't leave now! Ara needs her father," Balthasar exclaimed.

"No, Balthasar. You have lived this long for a reason, you are the protector, healer to my daughter. She is your companion, soul mate. Do not ever leave her."


I did not reply anymore, but I gripped the black stone embedded in my wings. Ignoring the tears, Arabella's pleas, and the agony, I gave a hard tug and removed the onyx from my bone. My body weakened and I felt energy draining from my soul, but I smiled meekly and handed the stones to Arabella.

"Arabella," Leaning forward, I whispered. "Only the placement stones can give life to the Angels of the Foretold. I sacrifice mine, to heal you and let you take your true form, my daughter."

"Daddy, please? Do not go! You can not desert me now! I need the guidance and expertise."

"Balthasar Martin Tennentt, head my warning."

Darkness filled me as I felt my body drop to the ground as Arabella tried to save me.

The End

0 comments about this story Feed