During my younger years, I soared high above the clouds on my golden wings, nothing to worry about and nothing to fear. I never thought for myself because my life was ordered step by step by the authorities of heaven. Every day I flew to the mortal realm below, usually doing rather mundane tasks like planting seeds, guiding wild animals through nature, and placing dust grains in the exact spot they belonged. The more exciting days brought tasks like intercepting demons and delivering messages to unwitting mortals, who often screamed or fainted whenever I appeared. Everything was much simpler back then. Everything was right or wrong, holy or unholy, light or dark. A thin line separated everything, a point where rationalization never needed to occur, conscious thought laid dormant, waiting for an opportunity to break out. However, I never knew how dangerous the consequences of one conscious thought could be, nor could I imagine how much my worldview would change for better or for worse. Yet one fateful day opened the floodgates to a choice I still grapple with to this day.
The day began like any other, though I must admit the air was a little cooler than what one might typically expect from late Spring. I planted some seeds in the ground, sprinkled dirt on the ground, and saved a few birds from instant death until heaven sent a new directive. Like a machine, I followed the new order, flying eastward towards a large city. Hundreds of people littered the streets as I flew above them. Once I found my target, I barreled into the building, darting into the doors of a hospital. The directive was simple: ferry someone’s soul to its proper destination. I sped through the hospital, dodging hospital equipment and slipping past patients and nurses alike. A few people looked in my direction, but their eyes were hollow and sunken, not even a glimmer of recollection with them. Before I knew it, I had flown to the third floor, landing inside a wide-open rectangular room. Hospital beds lined the walls in tight rows, each one covered merely by a thin curtain. Even from back here, I spotted my target. A dull thrumming echoed in my chest as I stared at a cot in the back of the room. On that cot, a frail young girl sat surrounded by her family members. I tip-toed my way to the child’s cot, though I stayed behind the child’s family. As the doctor walked away, I approached the girl’s cot. The girl’s eyes locked onto my body in seconds, staring at me instead of looking at her family. I shuffled to the left, then to the right and sure enough, her eyes followed my every move.
Well, this is fascinating. I’ve heard of people being able to see angels, but to track an angel’s movement is impressive. It was astounding to see the girl’s cheerful disposition. So astounding, in fact, that I stumbled backwards just a little, narrowly missing the medical equipment keeping track of the girl’s vitals. As I regained my composure, I took in the girl’s bright red hair and piercing gray eyes. What poor fate befell this child that she should die today? Has she committed some egregious crime against humanity or blasphemed against righteousness? Taking a soul from someone is a dangerous activity, something that requires immense precision. Yet as I reached into the girl’s chest, I heard a faint whisper.
“Hello pretty angel. Can I as why I have to go now?” the little girl said in a shrill whisper.
“I don’t know why little girl, I wish I could give you an answer,” I replied.
“I’ve heard stories of angels healing people from sickness before. All those people went on to live long lives. Are you here to heal me too?”
I continued weaving golden threads into her soul, the color draining from the girl’s face. Her eyes looked so defeated at such a young age. Something about the little girl’s words struck my heart. I cannot say that I felt compassion for the little girl in the moment. I did, however, feel a sense of duty as I stared into the little girl’s eyes. I can’t disobey the commands from above or I receive eternal damnation and suffering, but at the same time this little girl may just receive the same thing. Should I disobey my creator and save this girl, or should I continue with what I was instructed to do? Flustered by the gravity of the situation, I severed the connection between my energy and the girl, pacing back and forth in the room. Before long, I pressed my palm onto the girl’s head, taking a deep breath. If I make my decision, I better make it now. Golden light enveloped the girl, her complexion shimmering like never before. Her parents flocked around her, cheering as her vitals returned to nominal levels. The girl looked back at me, sorrow clouding her expression.
“I made you do something bad because I wanted to get better,” the girl sobbed.
“Don’t tell anyone about me or what I’ve done. Just say that a miracle was sent down from above. I’ve made peace with my choice, and I’ll deal with the consequences. You have the job of making sure that my sacrifice is not in vain,” I said.
The little girl wailed as I left the hospital room. Once I stepped out of the hospital, my wings grew heavy like a board, so I leapt into the sky. I flew higher and higher, though my wings grew heavier and heavier with each wingbeat as I fought the growing weight on my shoulders. I thought I knew what I was signing up for, but this is much worse than I imagined. I just hope that the little girl lives a long and prosperous life. After a grueling effort, I reached the gates to the heavens. As soon as I landed at the gate, the gatekeeper blew into a horn that I knew all too well. Several angels came out clad in armor and wielded swords and spears. What have I done to deserve the treatment of an invader? All I did was help a child in need. When that thought crossed my mind, I heard a thunderous voice speak in the back of my head and its voice filled me with paralyzing dread.
“Grace, the Creator judged your deeds on the scales of righteousness and found you unworthy. You have disobeyed a direct order from your superiors and from the Creator, thus you have become tainted by the mortal realm. Disobedience is a mortal disease, and it seems that you have been infected by it,” the voice scoffed.
My heart shattered into a million pieces, though I found a sense of fortitude in the pain. The other angels leapt towards me, murderous intent flickering in their eyes. Most angels would have died at the gates as atonement for their sins, but I jumped off the landing of heaven’s gate. I plummeted toward the mortal world, towering skyscrapers piercing through the lowest clouds. A wave of relief washed over me as I fell, and the weight of my wings lightened tenfold for every cloud I passed. When I reached the ground, I found myself among mortals and on their level. None of them could see me but I felt kinship with them. I understood their pain and I’d like to believe that they could understand mine. Despite falling from heaven, I still had some divine energy left within me. I healed anyone I could, providing miracles because I deemed it necessary. However, every time I did so, a white feather fell from my wings. In its place, a black feather would grow, leaving me looking like a speckled egg for quite some time. This didn’t bother me too much as I knew most mortals couldn’t see me. I remained hidden for thousands of years, finding only a couple dozen people who could see me.
After around fifteen hundred years in this realm, a lot fewer people can see me as I travel throughout the western hemisphere. However, I now find some mortals wield gifts that empower them to see and interact with the spiritual realm. Some have been able to reshape the spiritual realm in their own image, which I find quite scary. In the last few years, I have found a mortal who has grown quite attached to me, seeing me almost as a goddess. I have many questions to ask this mortal because I’m not sure why he looks at me the way he does, though I must confess that I’ve grown quite attached to him as well. Perhaps, I find his compassion to be most appreciated. It is a sensation I have missed for a millennium…
