Avoidables Angels Read online

  Chapter Twenty One

  The test. I had watched several people go through the test when I had been an angel. Now it was my turn. The waiting room was silent. Not one person dared to breathe. A mother held her son cradled in her arms. He must have been about six years old. Far too young. His soft mousey brown hair poked out from where he buried his head in his mother’s chest. The smart jeans and shirt he wore showed that he was a perfect little boy. The rest of the Perfects were teenagers accompanied by one of their parents.

  ‘Hello, everyone. I’m Henry. I’ll be your witness today. We’ll be calling you in one by one. If you pass the test, you will come back through this room to leave and continue your life as a Perfect. If you don’t, you’ll leave through another door, without the person you came with. You will not see them or the rest of your families again.’ The man was dressed in a white coat and had honey brown skin.

  I shuddered as I glanced around again. They were still children. How could they send them off to Lower Side without their parents? That was brutal.

  ‘You’ll be first,’ the man announced, pointing at the mother with the young boy.

  ‘Wait,’ I blurted as the mother stood.

  Her eyes watered but otherwise she was calm. The young boy clung to her hand. She glanced at me, frowning when I took his other hand. He was a sweet little thing but I saw the reason he was there as soon as he looked at me. My stomach dropped. He had one blue eye and one brown one. He would never pass the test.

  Leaning forward, I whispered in his ear. ‘No matter what happens. Remember that you are perfect. Even if they say you’re not.’

  The boy’s eyes widened when I pulled away. He swallowed as he nodded and turned back to his mother.

  ‘This way,’ Henry said.

  I bit my lip. His mother watched my reaction. She knew. I could see it in her slumped shoulders.

  When the door closed, I shoved my hand in my mouth. Surely they wouldn’t separate such a young child. Maybe they would offer to give him surgery to try and fix his eye.

  ‘Why are you here? You seem normal,’ a teenage girl spoke to me.

  She was pretty. Her hair was long, dark and in very good condition. Her nose pointed up at the end but her rose bud lips made her cherub-like. There was no fear in her eyes. She knew she would pass the test.

  ‘What is normal?’ I asked her.

  Glancing around the room, she pointed at a handsome young man. He blushed when he saw her showing him attention.

  ‘And what’s not normal?’

  The girl searched the others with her gaze, analysing them by their features. She finally settled on another girl who watched us through a pair of glasses. She was quite attractive too. However, bad eyesight was not a Perfect trait. If the person was gorgeous, they would give them eye surgery so they could see without glasses. Unfortunately, laser surgery was extremely expensive. If they were average looking, they had to move to Lower Side with their glasses.

  ‘That’s not exactly fair, is it? She’s very pretty,’ I muttered.

  The teenager flicked her hair over her shoulder. ‘She’s not perfect, is she? Doesn’t deserve to be here because she wears glasses, though.’

  Ignoring me, she went back to humming to herself.

  Every Perfect had to have the test. If they were not brought in before they were a teenager, they would come in when they hit a certain age. The young boy in the room with the examiner had been asked to go in early.

  ‘It’s sad about the boy, though,’ the teenager said under her breath.

  I glanced at her. She stared at the ground. Her sadness crept over to me. Not again. I couldn’t take on others emotions anymore. It was exactly why I had drunk a whole bottle of alcohol in the first place. Anything to drown out the sorrow of the people I was surrounded by. Why couldn’t they take away my sensitivity? That would help immensely.

  ‘I agree,’ I replied, tempted to put my hand over hers.

  The door opened. The sound of sobbing filtered out. I joined my hands in my lap, squeezing tight to stop myself from reacting. The boy had failed the test.

  ‘No, please don’t take him,’ the mother cried.

  Henry pulled the mother into our room. When the door shut, she broke free from him and launched at the wood, thumping it with her hands. I jumped to my feet.

  ‘Please…please,’ she cried, over and over.

  Going towards her, I pushed Henry out of the way. The woman’s big curly hair bounced as she pounded with her fists. Henry tried to grab me back but I manoeuvred out of his grasp. Putting my hand on her shoulder, I sent calming energy into her. She instantly slouched, her arms dropping from the door. Her fists were red raw. Turning towards me, she almost fell against me. My arms automatically came around her. The cries that racked her body filtered into me. My own tears ran silently down my cheek.

  ‘You’re next,’ Henry declared, ticking something on his clipboard and pointing at me.

  I stroked the woman’s hair as a low groan escaped her throat. Her knees gave out, sending us both into a kneeling position on the floor. The cold lino pressed against my skin but I ignored it. Rubbing her back, I brought my lips to her ear. ‘Don’t worry about him. I’m going to go, too. I promise to take care of him.’

  My words were a whisper. I hoped she’d heard them. She paused in her crying, pulling back to look at me. I smiled gently, nodding to let her know that I meant it.

  ‘Time to go,’ Henry announced, bending to us.

  He gripped my arm, tugging me away from the grieving woman on the floor.

  Opening the door, Henry ignored her. I glanced over my shoulder as I was shoved into the new room.

  ‘Thank you,’ the woman mouthed as the door closed behind me.