- 2:16 AM, July 14th, 2013
- Central Park, 59th Street Entrance
- BGM: Can You Feel Me Touching You?
Madison’s heart raced in her chest as she stumbled. The evening humidity made it even harder for her to breathe, the air choking out of her as she crashed to the hard ground. She felt the skin break on her knees, but at the moment that seemed inconsequential. She looked up at the girl standing before her, her familiar form seeming eclipsed by the shadow of the angel that cloaked her. Her eyes were cold, and piercing… what had happened to make her that way.
As she struggled to return to her feet, she managed to stammer out a weak plea.
“Please… April, take it back… take it back… I’m sorry… I’m…”
“Quiet, you bitch!” the other girl snarled. “I can’t take it back… just like no amount of begging can take back what you did to me…” The other girl looked away in disgust.
Madison felt a tear trickle down her cheek, almost undetectably against the backdrop of agony coursing through her. This couldn’t be happening… could it?
“Please… April… I’m sorry…” the young girl stated quietly, as she slumped to the ground. Her eyes began to get heavy, drawing closed despite her best attempts to keep them open.
She looked up at her friend once more. She looked so sharp, so angular, a vertical silhouette tearing through the fabric of shadow cast by the statue looming over them. She looked nothing like the mousy girl she had first met in junior high.
For a moment, her mind left the moment and traveled to back then.
“Hi, I’m Madison!”
”... um… hi. Am I in your way? I’m so sorry, I can be so clueless…”
Madison opened her eyes briefly, her chest aching. She looked up.
April… what had happened?
Just then, she thought she saw something… something around her friend. Something thin and barely visible, but with an unmistakable grip on the girl’s shoulders. April, what is that? Who is that? Madison asked silently.
Just then, she felt eyes on her. The thing… the thing on April’s shoulders was glaring at her! Madison wanted to cry out, but there was no strength left. A long, slender hand extended from the form, and caressed her face.
April… please get out of here…
- 9:32 AM, July 14th, 2013
- The Penthouse, SoHO
- BGM: The Penthouse
The morning light creeps through the Venetian blinds of the picture window overlooking Manhattan. The Penthouse is quiet this morning, the only sounds filling the air- the sound of Miranda typing away endlessly at her desk and the sound of percolating coffee from the kitchen- twine together almost seamlessly, making a sort of ambient music that creates a sense of calm in the office area.
You find it somewhat relaxing as you lounge about, but know that you shouldn’t be taking it easy any time soon. The morning headlines confirm that once again, Manhattan is the scene of yet another unusual circumstance.
Ninth Teenager Found Dead in Central Park, the paper reads. Madison St. Clair, 16, and the third girl to be found dead in Central Park this week. No marks are found on the body, and there were no signs of a struggle… only the frail, crumpled body of a young girl found beneath the fountain at the 59th Street entrance to the park, posing for a picture that could be the definition of poignant- a broken young thing discovered in the comforting shadow of an angel, watching over her from its vantage point at the fountain but unable to save her.