As an Angel, I liked watching the humans from above. I liked how wrong they were about us too, the hundreds of iterations of the same premise of god, rarely they got her her right. Yeah, her. Rarely, angels and demons were “evil”, the devil wasn’t evil, she was just doing her job of looking over sinners. And..unfortunately, I had to work with one of those rare bad angels.

Matthew liked to screw about with human affairs, and playing tricks on those extreme believers. It was never violent, until one day he clipped my wings. Clipped wings meant I couldn’t fly higher than a few feet, and he knew that, and he pushed me off the platform of heaven. Since I couldn’t fly, I flew to earth, my wings did little to shield me in the fall.

I woke in a forest, it was the darkest place I had ever seen while it was dusk. It was damp, the mossy ground, the canopy dripping water through the thick leaves. It must’ve been one of those place of earth that was always rainy. My gown was filthy, as were my wings, some of the feather bent and it was painful but necessary to pull those out. I had never felt pain, and now I felt even worse about those mortals that needed to spend their afterlife in hell to work off their karma.

I suddenly heard heavy footsteps, I gasped and folded my wings so it looked apart of my white gown. Maybe I had fallen from heaven, and I didn’t know how to get back yet, but a mortal couldn’t know. I wasn’t sure what they’d do, what kind of person they’d be.