- Hello, everyone. Thank you very much for taking the time to read this story. However, if any of you happen to stumble upon little mistakes here and there, please advise me of them. I'd like to make this an enjoyable reading experience for all.
Thank you again and please enjoy. - Amela -
~~~~~
"How? How could it be that at this time - at this place! - something this horrible could happen?"
"I don't know...but you better clean it up."
~~~~~
"I don't want you anymore, Michael." Aligail fidgeted on her bed, tangling the covers around her hips and legs.
Why's that, sweets?
A male's voice resonated through her ears, sending a chaotic rush of shivers along her spine. She grabbed one of her pillows and groaned into the fabric. She was annoyed and confused.
"Please, just go away." Her voice croaked as she held back tears of frustration.
I won't. You know that.
Cool air wisped around her body, making her muscles tighten despite the heated blankets.
"You make me seem like I'm some weirdo!" Aligail threw the pillow around, trying her hardest to push away his invisible grip. Her efforts proved fruitless as the cold only increased. Aligail's teeth clenched and she hissed angrily, curling into her useless heat blankets.
I'll never leave you, sweets. It'd hurt us too much...
Michael's breath swept along the side of her neck. Aligail is a receptive girl of both the 'natural' and 'supernatural'. She's his special vessel and the one he cherishes.
Michael inhabited her thoughts. The phenomenon can't be explained. Not yet, at least.
Two years ago, when sweet Aligail was sixteen, he had come upon her uniquely susceptible mind. Her brainwaves were perfect for his own and he was sure not to let the opportunity pass by. Unfortunately for Michael, he does not possess a body in Aligail's realm. He lives elsewhere but, for now, he only lets Aligail believe that he was created in her mind. No need for troublesome thoughts.
Michael mused as he admired his squirming love. She was the ideal mixture of innocence and maturity. Her face, which was normally framed by full, slightly curly dark brown hair, was composed of slightly plump cheeks, which gave her the essence of childishness and her big, blue eyes only added to the cuteness of it all. A very adorable button nose and luscious pink lips made her "innocent woman" appearance perfectly complete. Her figure, in contrast, was curvaceous and toned and seemed to beg for a man to embrace it.
Those legs would feel absolutely delicious around my waist.
A groan emitted from deep in Michael's chest. He was sure she could hear it. Feel it, too. The fact only made him happier.
And those breasts...Goodness!
His arms folded in front of Aligail and he cupped her chest, his fingers lazily kneading into the clothed flesh.
Aligail's breasts are just big enough to fill my palms...how scrumptious.
His lips tickled the lobe of her ear while his need for Aligail filled his thoughts.
She whimpered, "Michael, please, at least allow me to sleep alone."
His eyes roamed over the outline of her body while she struggled with the covers. I am most lucky to have found myself such a prize... Michael released his cold embrace from Aligail and sat back to admire her for a little longer. Once she was peacefully sleeping, he would leave her alone. She should have freedom within her dreams, at least.
~~~~~
She didn't like it. Not one bit. Michael had invaded her thoughts without any sense of regret and, for the last two years, has refused to let her be. While Aligail would be having conversations with her friends, family or random strangers, Michael would shamelessly tell her his opinions. He'd often times order her to stop talking and move on, all because he was annoyed.
The morning alarm rang painfully through Aligail's room. She groaned and flipped off the covers, scuffing herself to the other side of room, only to pound a heavy fist onto the mute button. Who the hell would think of such annoying contraption? She moved to the closet, grabbing the handful of clothes she'd picked for the day.
"Damn him to hell. Who cares anyways?" Her dreams had been blank yet again. She liked having dreams. It didn't matter which kind. They could be nightmares, flying dreams or muddled memories mingling together, and Aligail would enjoy it all. However, since Michael had arrived, she hasn't had a truly fulfilling dream. It was truly aggravating.
"You better not be looking! I'll be sure to damn you even more!"
Not that it would do any good anyways...
Aligail swept the room even though she knew she wouldn't be able to see him. After a firm shake of her body to expel her nervousness, she grabbed her pajama pants by the waistband and pulled them down. Then, wasting little time, she slipped into her pair of jeans for the day.
These jeans were her favorite pair. A little washed out on the thighs but not too bad to look gaudy. They were slightly ripped along the bottom, where they would drag along the ground. Aligail went to full length mirror by the door, propping herself on the tips of her toes. She loved the way these jeans fit her shape, hugging to the appropriate muscles. Pivoting to the left, she peeked over her shoulder to admire the shape from behind, again pleased with the result.
Yes, today she was going to look good. Despite the stress of everything.