Chapter 1

Siren   May 21, 2008       Was I sleeping? No, I can’t be I thought. I picked up the guitar, but wait I didn’t play the guitar. I placed three of my fingers on a chord, and began to strum. Music is playing. How am I playing? A sound escapes my throat, and it is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard. My diaphragm moves up and down in rhythm with the music. The beautiful voice I hear is me. But it can’t be, I thought. A sound from the firmament above. Maybe even the celestial regions of the sea. I can feel the rush of water in between my toes, and the cool feeling puts me in a therapeutic state, as I continue to strum along on the guitar. Where did I learn how to play? I am only acutely aware of the hour, which looks to be dusk. The sun is beginning to set, and the colors are a magnificent hue of bright orange, yellow, pink, and purple. The wind tugs at my hair, and through my scalp, making me feel free. I seem to be so enraptured in my singing and guitar playing that I don’t notice the man who is trying to save me. He is yelling my name. Celesta! Run! You must run! Get out of the water. I do not listen to him, and I continue getting lost in my melody. I’ve never heard me play this song before. Now my focus was on my appearance. I wore a long gypsy white skirt that fell down to my ankles, Bohemian bracelets, and silvery moonstone. Above my corseted top was a black crescent moon. My hair was in long braids that flowed all the way down to the middle of my back. No, this can’t be me. I have short hair, I don’t even have those clothes. All of a sudden a bright light flashed into my eyes. It was so bright it began to make my eyes water. Once again I heard the voice: “Celesta” a faint whisper. My heart skipped a beat. Finally becoming aware of the voice gave me chill bumps down my spine. Not because he frightened me, just the tone of voice. As if he was giving up on something, giving up on me, and my heart couldn’t take this feeling for some reason. I stopped playing. “What have I done?” The bright light pierced through my eyes, and my body began to change form. I was scared, and I didn’t know what to do. Suddenly, I was aware of the light streaming through my window. The bright light in my dream, was actually the sun peering through my curtains. The alarm clock blared in my ears. “S**t, I’m late!” I sprung up from the mattress, and then fell straight to the floor. Tripping over a small book. It was the Vampire book I had been reading by Anne Rice. God, I got to lay off these crazy books I thought. I quickly hopped into the shower, attributing the strange dream to my vibrant taste in literature. I grabbed a quick sip of milk from the carton, and muffins from the cupboard, then headed out to my jeep. It was a sunny day, and I actually loved getting up to go to work. I worked at a small Sea Resort right up on Terrain Boulevard in California. I couldn’t wait to see Jimmy. Jimmy was the most happiest dolphin I have ever came across. At first we took a while to warm up to each other, but once I gave him that juicy catfish, we been friends ever since. I also couldn’t wait to see Shelly the stingray. She loved to be petted. After I got of a work, regardless of whether the books were having a strange effect on me. I wanted to look for more.     Seth June 21, 2020 Being an Angel isn’t really what I thought I would be doing at the age of twenty one, but yet here I am. Actually, how I got in this predicament was strange even for me. I guess I’ll start with letting you know how I met her. It all happened with a dream, a strange dream I had about this beautiful girl named Celesta. I dreamed of her before I even knew her. Most people would wonder how this is even possible, but I assure you, once you progress and enter the stage where you are about to get your wings and fly off into oblivion, you realize anything is possible. In the dream, I was in a Barnes N Noble bookstore, which was pretty surprising, seeing as how I hated to read. But this kid took my wallet so I had to chase after him to get it. The area was crowded, and the dumb kid was wearing bright colors. So he was easy to spot, when he ran straight into the book store. I walked into a bookstore, Barnes N Noble to be exact. And I wasn’t expecting to find anything… anyone. I walked straight up to the lobby area and asked for a French vanilla cappuccino, I loved those damn things. The vanilla made me salivate and the fresh taste filled my taste buds and awakened my thoughts. I loved the bookstore. It was a particularly cold night, and it was refreshing to have the warm cup in my hands. I started glancing around and looked at various covers of books. I went straight to my favorite section. Mystery and suspense. Something about reading about C.S.I type things really interested me. Well anyway that’s when I heard it. The most beautiful song I’ve ever heard in my enitre life. I cannot explain it really, only that it mesmerized me, the way the guitar solo mingled in the air, and soon it was coupled by a woman’s’ voice unique and water like. As if her sound constantly fell like rain droplets on to the ground. As if her tunes held ocean waves in it’s essence. Reverberating of the highs and lows of the treble clefs. Sound waves, ocean waves, I was beginning to think there was no difference. Sometimes soft as silent snow. It was serenading me, and I thought it was coming from the stereo. So I stopped the nearest person that worked there, and asked if he knew of the person that was singing the song. I told him I wanted to put in on my mp3 player. He laughed in my face. “Follow me.” I obediently followed and he led me toward the coffee shop part of the book store, and there sitting down with a guitar in her hand was a woman. Her caramel skin seemed to glow under the soft light that illuminated not only her face and body, but guitar and clothing as well. Her braids fell gently down to her shoulders and her dark eyes, I caught glimpses of, looked up for a moment as she played between notes and made connections with her audience. Her style was unquestionably unorthodox, but astoundingly enrapturing. Her lace top accentuated her breast which I couldn’t help but notice; however, despite the distraction my ears lied uninterrupted. When she finished I stood there gawking at her like an idiot, and for a moment I thought her eyes caught mine. She smiled nervously. Was it nervous? Did performers get nervous? When she smiled one dimple had poked it’s way through her left cheek… just the left though. I guess that’s the C.S.I side of me… paying attention to details.