Fallen Skies *Being Rewritten*

One

The colors of the skies are a typical medium greyish; if lucky enough, we get to see a pinch of blue, as well. Clouds that look so fluffy and soft cover the sun, rarely allowing its rays to reach us. Though, the birds in the woods rather love the warmth of the sun like us, we are yet to have it possessed as ours.

Blue Jays, Mockingbirds, Sparrows, Owls- birds of all sorts- live within the angelic woods of our realm we call, Heaven. Places where drops of rain dance that sustain forests, woods and life. A place where death can never reach, but most of all… where the Angels live.

The world I live in was yet to have very little known assistance. We were myths, legends that only those religious on Earth believe in. Not many know of us, and yet to know that Hell truly exists as well.

A man named “God” was the thought of most humans on who created this universe or life itself. I never had once met a man with such a name, or yet never been greeted to “Golden Gates” since I was born here and nor do I ever wear the color white.

The things we fear is a small list, rather petite and none really existent. We only fear the Fall.

The Fall is a myth, even the humans know of it. The cycle had happened far before, according to the Minister records the Reapers of Death possesses, the Fall is an Angel being dropped from Heaven.

The Angel will forever live as immortal with their wings ripped rapidly and painfully off, and their powers would soon fade to mere dusts of pathetic glitter. According to the Death Reaper, the Angel falls only by two causes. Love or Lust.

But what is Love and what is Lust? Aren’t they the same? We never felt those humanistic emotions; this is why we are low populated. Angels are rarely born, because we never die but we also don’t feel the urges to fuck anything because we don’t possess those emotions. But my father had those emotions, when he met my mother; a mere human.

In one point in our time, we were allowed by the Elders to venture the grounds of Earth’s living beings. We were able to communicate to know how it felt to be a human, though we still possessed our wings and magic, for a day. But we only get this luxury when we are about hundred; I was merely eighteen, the youngest of them all as well as the last born Angel.

My father had his turn to venture the grassy lands of Earth in a place called Oregon. He said it was so cold, but the area reminded him of home, of heaven. The way he described Oregon was so very similar to Heaven.

“There were so many woods and forests!” he would exclaim when he tells the story. “The ground was covered in this white icy cold puffy stuff they call snow. It would cover the trees, the ground and houses, even cars!” thrill would be in his voice. Then he would sigh, this meant he would recall finding my mother.

“It was a dark night,” he would start off. “The ground was covered in ice, and she had just left work when I saw her. Something… something about her attracted me to follow her,” my dad’s voice began to sound hurt. “She drove herself home, and I followed her by flying,” then he used his hands. One hand would be flat and going straight and the other would be flat but he would use his pinkie and thumb to “flap them” as if they were his wings; he had done this to show how he had followed her.

He clenched his fist, “As she arrived home, I learned she lived with a man. He wasn’t very nice to her either.”; nice was an understatement.

“But, I continued to watch and listen when I landed on the balcony of the house she lived in. All I heard was bangs, yelling and screaming. I couldn’t hold myself back much longer, I had to protect her,” he closes his eyes usually at this part. At most times, dad would cry when he said what he had done. “I killed him.” Then he would say how she loved him for protecting her from the beating and violence; that finally someone came to save her. So after that incident, I was born… in Heaven.

As a child my dad would never tell the story about my mother. He would avoid it at all costs till I was thirteen and began to understand. It sucked being the youngest Angel of them all. Everyone around me was at least a good thousand years, others would be a few hundreds but my father is only a hundred.

So growing up wasn’t as fun as others, I was always alone with no one to play with especially when my dad was out patrolling Heaven’s borders to be sure demons never exploded inside. As a child my curiosity perked, so I was the little explorer of everyone. Since then, I know every trail, even the secret trails, by heart.

But still, Heaven was no place for me. I want something more; I want to explore the lands I’ve never seen. So this is where, I plan to take my fall.

Author's Note:

So, to anyone who has read this series before. I'm rewritting it, (obviously). I really hope you guys like this better, because I am.