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The Angel of Death Is My Savior

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Blurb

Echo. A normal girl with a difficult past.

Azrael. The ancient angel of death.

Lucifer. The angel of hell.

These are all what you'd describe these people as at a glance, but you'd be very wrong. Nothing is ever as it seems.

Echo is not good.

Lucifer is not bad.

Azrael is not deadly.

What are they to eachother?

Mates. Two angels and a human who has extraordinary and untouched power.

When the time comes, Echo will have to choose her mate, and who will help her powers grow, despite the threat looming over her.

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Enough is enough
Chapter One “Enough is enough” Echo’s POV Authors note: This chapter contains MATURE CONTENT! Read at your own risk. I recommend 18+, however, if you are a brave soul at any age- read on. Happy reading, babes!   After taking another sip of my wine I head over to the house medicine cabinet. I grab out several prescription bottles before finding the one I’m looking for. A prescription that my doctor gave me for anxiety- Xanax. I keep rummaging until I find a couple of prescription sleep aids that I use. Finally, pill bottles in hand, I make my way back upstairs and into my room. Once there I plop down at my desk. I go through my drawers until I find a pen and paper, and start writing. Dear world, My name is Echo Smith. This is my goodbye. On the outside you saw the image of a very happy high school girl who loved sports and kept the popular kids from being mean. I have worked very hard to keep my image that way. On the inside, however, has always been a completely different story. Very few people truly knew what was going on with me and the pain I go through on a regular basis. Let me give you a hint- crippling depression. Some of you noticed my depression. Some of you even noticed the scars from me cutting myself, which I always played off as either an accident or an encounter with my grandparents’ cat. I apologize for my lies, I simply never wanted to burden anyone with my issues As many of you know, my parents passed away last year. They left me a considerable sum of money, however that isn’t enough to fill the void of emptiness within me. My grandparents tried to step in, but I put on the persona of being fully independent and not needing any help or support. They still sent me to therapy, which did just about nothing. For the past eleven months since my parents died, I have been pondering suicide. Three days ago I finally decided that it is what’s best. I want to join my parents. I want to be united with my family once more. This is nobody’s fault. Fate dealt me a shitty hand of cards, and this is how I’m choosing to play them. My hope is that everybody I have been friends with will move on, and forget about me. Don’t allow my death to burden you. One last thing I ask is for everyone to continue being nice. Through my time at Woods High School, I worked hard to maintain the lack of social ranks. People who prefer to eat in the library aren’t called nerds. “Popular” kids don’t act meanly towards others. I beg of everyone to keep it this way. Love and regard to everyone. Forever yours, Echo Smith. I finish writing and place the note on my desk. I didn’t originally plan on writing a note, but I wanted people to have some closure. I read online the most effective ways to end your life. The two top methods were overdoses, and slitting your wrists. I decided to do both, so if one didn’t kill me- the other would. With a final look of appreciation around the house my grandparents bought me, I swallow all of the pills, head to the bathroom, and grab the razor I dislodged from my shaving razor. I wore my favorite blue dress, because I wanted to die looking beautiful. I step into the bathtub filled with warm water, and look at the razor. My trusty and favorite razor that I have used before to cut myself. After a deep breath, I draw a vertical line with it from my wrist to the crook of my elbow on both arms. Then I go back and deepen the cuts, just in case. I close my eyes and breathe a happy sigh of relief. Finally, I’m free. Mom, dad, here I come.

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