The Right Time

Every night around 10, I see a beautiful bloody angel walking down the street. The blood soaks through her shirt, and slowly drips onto the street, as she walks by. My interest in her may seem strange, but it’s impossible to ignore an angel when it’s this close. She’s just so beautiful, but all I can do is watch. All I’ve ever wanted to do was watch, and admire her from afar. I never thought I’d actually meet her.

She works at ‘The Aquarium’. She’s actually one of the exhibits, and it’s an extremely painful job. It’s safe to assume that it isn’t a normal aquarium, it’s actually more of a gentlemen’s club. I consider it a show of angels, but I often wonder how much they pay these girls to drown.

She’s not the most popular attraction but she certainly is my favorite. She’s near the back, where a modest amount of people tend to gather and enjoy the show. Through out the show various women, and occasionally men, will appear to be drowning naked in large tubes positioned throughout the venue. They are actually drowning, but to prevent their lungs from bursting and them dying, special pipes are jammed through their ribs and into their lungs. I’m not sure how the pipes work but they keep them alive.

The most popular attractions are the newest ones, where they struggle in pain so much that the pipes loosen and the water turns red with their blood. Those attractions get huge and unruly crowds. The types that take pictures, cheer, and slap the glass just to scare them. I personally hate being around them, but I suppose I’m no better.

My favorite seems to struggle the least. They shove the pipes under her shoulder blades so I barely ever see them, and she just floats there, taking in the water as if she wasn’t even drowning. If I look closely the signs of pain are obvious. Her chin shivers as the water continuously forces its way in, her stomach will randomly clench when she accidentally swallows the water, and her fingers will curl from the agony.

She may have gotten so used to the pain that she can’t offer an exaggerated reaction anymore, but it’s what made her my favorite. All the others thrash around so much you can never see how they’re truly affected. However, my bloody angel is the only one that lets you get a good look at her face. She’s the only one that gives you the chance to see the pain in her eyes. She’s like art, she makes you really have to look at her.

I personally think she’s suffering the most, because she’s ignoring the pain. That pride makes her beautiful, but it also makes it obvious that she’s drowning in her own tears. Despite that, she’s always working. Even when I’m not at the club, I know because when I look out my window, at the right time, I see her walking down the street.

The day I met her was an absolute accident. I was coming home late, exhausted from work, and I didn’t realize she was just a few feet in front of me. I felt like an idiot, for not noticing sooner. That day changed everything.

When I was walking down the street, I eventually looked up from my phone and noticed someone walking ahead of me. She was carrying a small bag, wearing a grey tank top, black jeans, and black sneakers. I also noticed two dark spots on her back.

The dark spots were right by her shoulder blades. They looked as if they were some sort of liquid, oozing slowly down her back. The shapes kind of resembled wings. Just as I began to realize how familiar she looked, she turned around and said, “Excuse me, you mind telling me the time?” It was my bloody angel.

I was speechless. It was my first time seeing her face normally. The pain I was used to seeing wasn’t there, but she was still beautiful. Everything I thought about her was starting to change and I didn’t know what to do. She looked curious now. I looked back down at my phone, and told her, “It’s 10pm.” While I looked at her, I realized that I never wanted to see her in pain again.