God's Gone AWOL

[9] Chang-Ho

Atticus stood outside of the Cupboard for a very long time, his eyes blank and his heart empty. By the time he finally snapped out of his trance, the clouds overhead had already started to change colour. Dark blues and greys were all swirling together as the oncoming night tinted the sky. Without even realizing it, he had wasted almost half a day staring at absolutely nothing, thinking about absolutely nothing, and doing absolutely nothing.

In that prolonged moment, Atticus ceased to exist. The people on the streets continued to hurry along, talking, moving, but not once taking a glance in Atticus' direction. The Earth continued to spin on its axis, but he remained still. Like a solid and unmoving statue, he was frozen in time without even a breath escaping his lips. His features were icy, and entirely blank as if his very soul had left his body. Atticus was gone, he was no more. All that was left was an empty shell of an angel, hollowed out by the horrible and constantly pressing force of time.

He was nonexistent. Atticus was nothing. —But in a way, hadn't he always been so? Even from the start, he had no potential and nothing to offer to the world. His power was weak, his personality was unpleasant, and his name meant nothing in the hearts of others. How could he have been hollowed out when there wasn't anything there in the first place. He was a wretched and disgusting creature from the start, and that was the way it would always be...

Atticus stood at the base of the tree while Bentley hopped up into it's branches, scaling up the smooth bark with ease. Sunlight spilled in between the wide, golden leaves, casting her in a warm, earthy glow. She reached up and plucked a couple of the figs from their stems. Then she tossed them down to Atticus.

"Hey Atticus, I've got an idea," a voice suddenly echoed in his head.

Atticus' eyes widened, but his gaze remained fixated on empty space. The voice was an old memory, floating up from out of nowhere. But he could still recognize those words and that tone, even after thousands of years had gone by.

"How about this?" Bentley had said through a mouth full of fig. "If anybody ever makes you feel like a failure or whatever, you should come visit this exact tree,"

That tree... the fig tree they had planted together all those years ago... before The Fall.

The memory was so old, so some parts were a little fuzzy. However, the words Bentley had spoken amidst the golden sun and warm green leaves would never leave Atticus' mind.

"If you ever feel, I dunno, less then enough, let this big ol' tree right here be evidence to the contrary! And if you're feeling really bad, bring me along with you. We can eat figs together and I can bug you until you feel better again. How about that?"

He couldn't remember his own reply. But he could remember that strange feeling that had erupted in his heart as he watched her play among the branches. That was the day they had fought in the Sacred Garden and were instructed to plant a tree as punishment. Although the craving for sweetness had already begun in Atticus' heart, that really was the first time he tasted the forbidden fruit.

That sweet-tounged angel with her ruffled robes and carefree manner had long since disappeared from the world, but not before she carved an irrevocable scar across Atticus' heart. Whether or not Ruth pash de Michael still existed in the land of the living was entirely irrelevant. Because the strongest part of her had already made its mark.

Atticus needed to find that tree.

Even though Bentley had made that godawful promise, he had never dared to take her up on the offer. He had long since memorized the location of the fig tree, just in case Bentley really did follow up someday. Of course, he should have realized that it was impossible considering just how deep he had driven the wedge between them. But he never forgotten where that tree was planted.