Third Person
Paris, France: Paris Police Department
2:03 P.M.
The excruciating hours of the Arraignment were finally done as they escorted the accused back to prison. The media followed and hope to get word off of him, but unlike his bodacious and sinister attitude inside the court, he chose to keep his head down and zip his mouth.
Laying on his bed, Saccharide imagined his lover's reaction. He felt alive, but at the same time, he saw a coward confessing his love to a camera. He had so many moments in his hands to say those three words, but his prideful ass chose to blurt out, "Wait for me..."
"I will not wait for your teen ass to get up!" someone scolded, "I'll say this one more time - you have to get up. A visitor is waiting outside..."
He turned his head and saw a pouty-faced female officer with her right hand on her waist. The woman widely opened the cells, and a pair of handcuffs was hanging on his left hand's index finger. She was trusted to keep him guarded because the boy was surprisingly mild around female guards and inmates. On the other side of the issue, the female officer was shocked to know that he was charged with Domestic Violence.
"That girl you mentioned in the court," the woman spoke as she walked the grey-haired boy across the hall of cells, "I'm sure she'll get you out..."
The kind police officer didn't confine his hands with handcuffs, seeing he has a severe wound on his wrist and the other one was bruised from being restricted of blood flow for a long time. She requested to use different equipment, but the others were too lazy to consider the bleeding slices on the poor boy's hand, "I'm sure of it..." reassured the convicted teen by patting his back.
Saccharide smiled at her and looked down again. Persistently, she kept feeding him sweet thoughts to cheer him up, "She's probably busy figuring out how to save you," said she, "And I don't think you hurt her..."
"Thank you," - was the only expression he could say. But deep inside, he answered, 'They're right... I hurt her,' he thought as he sighed in actual present, 'But I'm not myself when I did...'
When she witnessed the uncontrollable media crowd outside being held by the buffer guards, the woman rolled her eyes. No matter what they get from Saccharide's mouth, they'd still tamper with it to make it more pleasing to satisfy the controversy gluttony happening in the city. She left him inside the empty visiting room for a while, saying she will fetch his visitor out of the waiting room first.
He nodded and sat on the farthest table from the exit. It was probably just Dione, Phoenix, or Angel Daire. However, with their on-going live tour, the celebrity must be too busy to visit him. Additionally, the IXCents' manager must be furious because his live Arraignment ratings out-rated their live tour on television.
"You made a big mistake," a voice presented, "If we see the results of your recent psychological tests have changed. You're going to be in big trouble, Saccharide Heinz."
The grey-haired boy looked up as his train of thoughts ran on broken tracks and collapsed. A smirk crept across the wrinkly face of the prosecutor who burned him to the ground during his Arraignment, "Or should I say-" he finally sat beside him and said, "Angel Caliber Damien..."
"Angel Marshall," Saccharide mentioned before clearing his throat, "I hate to say this, old man, but you pissed me off back there!"
The old man has a fading glow around him, meaning he was currently living the second to the last of his chances. His vandyke was already a forest of white curly strands just like his hair. Along with his wrinkly face and baggy eyes, Saccharide could tell his average age without asking.
"I'm a prosecutor happily married with 3 kids. It's my job to piss off criminals like you," the old man chuckled and set down his suitcase on the table. The boy took notice of the name plastered on the black bag.
He put his palm under his chin and asked, "You don't plan on changing your name, huh?"
"The first name lasts," declared the old male before sighing, "I want to keep a part of me from my first life till my last glow..."
Angel Marshall was one of the long-lived angels. He felt being loved after spending his 10 chances rightfully. He was also known to keep his name from his early life up to his last.
"Angels who use Possession type of Reincarnation gets a free will. Plus, I don't want my parents to name me something else if I use the normal type of Reincarnation," he explained and put his hands together before smiling genuinely at the boy.
Even with his gentle features as an Angel-
He died a tragic death- In the hands of his own family.
That's why he chose to have all 10 families who loved him using the 10 lives the Heavens gave him.
"Yeah, that's why we use it - for free will," Saccharide quoted with his quotation mark gesture.
Prosecutor Marshall got comfortable and held the boy by the shoulder and said, "Looks like you don't have that right now. You got yourself in trouble again," he raised his eyebrow when he saw an unmistakable white glow outlining the teen boy, "You still have some glow left. Why don't you use it?"
He didn't answer; instead, he just stared at him, blushing before finally hiding his red face behind his shaking hands. Professing love in front of all the cameras felt easy for a moment, but admitting he became fragile and lovable in front of an old friend became pride-wrenching all of a sudden.
"Ahhh... Is it perhaps because of that Lady Aksenov?"
The senior prosecutor cheered with a proud laugh and playfully ruffled the boy's greasy hair, "Finally! The mischievous Angel Caliber found his love!"
Saccharide peeked from windows of his fingers, exhaled before removing the Prosecutor's hand from his hair. "Some of our fellow angels never believed you'd find yours again. Especially after what you did on your 10th chance," added the Prosecutor before his smile faded after witnessing the bloody fabric wrapped on his left wrist.
Saccharide shuddered in cringe when he remembered dying because of 10 STDs from using the drug Ecstasy and Viagra while having sex with all of the people inside the club. He was hoping it was an all-girls club, but when he finally woke up under a male bartender naked-and boy! He was so wrong...
As he shook his head, the thought passed, and he was back staring at the man smiling at him. He was just past a month in this life, and he already met two reincarnated angels. Two of them are already convincing him to use his chances, but the girl acting as the only bind that keeps this together was the only reason he endured this life.
"I'm always the one who encourages you on your first chance! I always said you'd find her-" the cheerful man continued, "- Or him somewhere!" he teased in the end.
The grey-haired boy tensed as his fist fists clenched in annoyance, "Marshall! You know how I feel about -" he paused, looked around, and whispered the last part, "Gays..."
Prosecutor Marshall changed the mood of his face as his wrinkles looked like webs of fabric in a clothing line factory. "Society has changed! It's either you accept or become the witch and be burned at stake!" he lectured seriously, "All our kidding aside. I'm so proud you found her!"
The boy looked down and rubbed his hand together to produce warmth as the cold temperature in the room started getting to him, "No, this time-" he smiled when he felt the bandages under his fingers before proudly saying, "She was the one who found me..."
Prosecutor Marshall looked at him as if he was his son. He was a proud father, but his smile faded again. The old man opened his case with a click before reaching inside and pulling out a folder labeled with his name.
"It's just too bad..."
"Why?" the boy looked at him confusedly.
Prosecutor Marshall didn't answer, and instead, he opened the folder with a delicate touch, turned it to face the boy, and slid it across the table for him to read. The first lines didn't bother the boy, but as soon as he read further, his eyes teared up, and his throat has gone dry. Looking up, the look on the old man's face was in the same context as they stared at each other.
"I'm an enemy this time, my boy..." he closed the briefcase, and the smirk on his face came back on, "And my job is to persecute you and protect your girl from you."
Saccharide's eyes darkened, and the urge to kill suddenly came back. As he was ready to attack, a cop already had a teaser against his back, ready to go if he moves recklessly. He froze as two cops stood beside him as he collected the scattered papers on the table.
He ruffled his hair again and leaned closer, "It's nice to meet you again, Angel Caliber," he whispered.
"And good luck to you, Saccharide Heinz!" "See you next month for your trial!"
And with that, he was shoved back to the cell with metal cuffs bruising the hell of his wound. He sat on the corner and silently cried, imagining a pair of small hands wiping his tears away. A sudden warm feeling engulfed him when he saw Raine's figure sitting by his side with her head resting on his shoulder.
"Hey God..." Clasping his hands together, he closed his eyes and kneeled, "Are you playing human bingo up there?"
He can't believe it.
...
The only thing he has in defense vanished, and he wasn't quite sure if he should be happy or not.l
...
He took the psychological tests from his new psychiatrist.
...
The results came back negative.
...
He doesn't have PTSD and DID anymore.
...
"If you are, please stop picking my name..." he begged and sat back on the floor.
From all the suicide he had done, Saccharide already that a piece of paper proved something intended for the destruction of someone's life, such as his.