LGBT+ Short Story Collection

The Angel Logan

How did it happen? Well, it was a shooting at the pride parade I was attending. A crazed homophobe who didn't understand what it felt like to not be accepted, showed up with a gun and shot down a small percentage of my fellows gays. I was a part of that small percentage. Now, I'm a ghost, not really tied to anything, so I just wander around with nothing to do, but watch other people.

I just found out that my funeral was being held one Saturday and was planning on attending. I floated in a couple of hours early, so that I could tell exactly who showed up. However, no one came. I waited for an hour after the reception had started, but I was the only one there, invisible to the eyes of any living human.

If I could still cry, tears would've been streaming down my face. No one came, not even my family, so I flew to my parents' house and overheard a conversation that my mother was having with my aunt over lunch.

"So, when is Lauren's funeral being held?" my aunt asked.

"It should've been over an hour ago." my mom stated, taking a bite of her sandwich.

"Oh, so you're not going?"

"No, I don't want to be associated with that worm. I don't want to be remembered as the mother of a tr*ny (I apologize to my fellow trans people) who's going to burn in Hell!" my mother slammed her hands on the table, face red, before taking a deep breath and sitting back down. My aunt merely nodded at her statements, then went back to eating her cheese sandwich silently.

I fled the house, phasing through the wall and flying through the sky. I hated the name my aunt had called me. I hated my birth name. I was Logan, not Lauren, I had been Logan ever since I was twelve and I hated that they'd never accepted it. They hated me. They thought I'd burn in Hell for eternity.

I quickly found myself on a small cloud overlooking the ocean, my ghostly wails reverberating across the sky. I wasn't able to feel any tears running down my face, since I was a ghost, but I could feel the pain that had been inflicted upon me.

Then I heard a voice filling the heavens with a warm ring. "Child, why do you cry?" it asked, coming from nowhere in particular.

Not knowing what else to do but talk, I told the voice my story. It stayed silent for a few moments before the source materialized.

In a burst of golden light, an angel appeared. She was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. Half of her blonde hair was pulled back into a bun, the rest flowing down her shoulders in elegant waves. Her face was angular and angelic (duh) and her eyes were the most clear shade of green possible, breath-taking compared to the green, soupy mists that were my eyes. She was wearing a long, white dress, like the stereotypical angel look, but had a green belt around her waist that was tied in a knot on her left hip. Beautiful wings spread out behind her; a field of white dotted with green.

"My name is Emerald," she sang in her heavenly voice, "I will help you, young one." and she offered me her hand to take.

Her hand was soft and warm, and it surprised me that I could actually feel it and I didn't phase through. I stood up. She turned out to be about my height, only a few inches taller, her straight back helping greatly.

She led me off of the cloud and towards the sun. Before I could protest that I did not want to be fried, we broke through an invisible force and emerged in the most beautiful garden ever!

It seemed that every kind of tree was growing in a giant ring that surrounded another ring of flowers, again, it looked like every kind was here, all seperated by color. The most amazing feature of the garden, however, was the glorious fountain in the middle. It looked to be made of marble that glimmered in rainbow colors when the real sun hit it. There were gemstone flowers ringing the seven tiers, golden water flowing from the middles and flowing into the basin, though, no water flowed out.

"What is this place?" I asked, letting go of Emerald's hand and turning slowly on my heel to get a full look at the trees and flowers.

"This is simply called The Garden," she replied, coming to sand beside me, "A place where angels come to play."

As if on queue, a pleasant ringing sounded throughout The Garden and angels began popping into existence. I saw so many different angels it was hard to keep track of, but I know that I saw exactly 30 angels.

"Emerald," the one closest, a man with brown hair and blue eyes, said, "Why is there a ghost here?"

I shuffled nervously, self-conscious of myself as the attention of every angel was turned towards me. I immediately wondered if my red hair was messy, or if my ratty clothes looked too common here.

"Michael, this is Logan, I wish for him to join us." There was a slight murmur through the crowd of angels. Why did she want a human here? Why? How had she found him? What was wrong?

"On what grounds," Michael asked, crossing his muscled arms over his equally muscled chest. He looked to be about 28 years old, and was wearing a navy blue toga, a silver belt tied around his waist. His white wings fanned out, showing dominance.

"He has been hurt by his family for something he could not control," Emerald announced, "I wish to take him into our family, so that he may feel love."

There was another murmur that went through the group, but this time, nods accompanied the whispers.

"Alright," Michael said in a pleasant tone, then gestured for the other angels to form a circle around me. They all joined hands and began chanting:

O Domine, obsecro ut liceat iungere isto damnato genere nostro magno. Et quod vivat sicut Angelus per posthac usque ad consummationem saeculi. Gratias tibi.

They repeated this over and over, then, Emerald came over to me and placed a light kiss on top of my forehead. Immediately, I felt a surge of power course through me, and something soft coming out of my back. The experience felt pleasant, like slipping into a warm bath, so I closed my eyes in bliss.

When I opened them again, I was no longer wearing a ratty, blue jumpsuit, I was wearing a pure white toga that felt like a cloud. The belt I was wearing was multi-colored, made to look like the trans flag. My body was much more toned and I felt like I could run 12 miles without stopping. Emerald summoned a small hand mirror and handed it to me, so that I was able to see my reflection. My murky eyes had cleared and were now glistening pools of green that shimmered in the light, my hair was now clean and swept off to the side, and my face was no longer dotted with pimples, but smooth and freckled, which was no change.

I brought my hand up to my face in awe, my arm brushing against my chest, which had been free of the weighted feeling of a binder, and it felt weird. I looked down and nearly screamed with joy. I no longer had the C-cup that I hid behind the binder. I now had a perfectly flat chest that fit my new body type, no scars or lumps, just perfect pecs that made me soar with joy.

Literally. I was so happy, my new wings launched me upwards into the sky as I let out a loud and happy cry. I glanced back at my wings and saw that they were a shade of red that exactly matched my hair, the wingspan stretching long past my fingers.

After a minute, I flew down to The Garden and bear hugged Emerald.

"Thank you," I whispered into her ear, "for bringing me here." I felt her hug me back after a moment and we let go of each other after another few moments.

Afterwards, I launched myself into the sky once more, thinking about my new life as an angel. The Angel Logan.