Backgrounds? Backgrounds aren’t a favor or a gift to a person or even an item. It’s an idea that is tainted on them as though it was tattooed onto their minds. Backgrounds may be the lead to your future or the downfall of it. Mine, is a curse, the downfall to my lifetime. If my background was different even just a small part, I could be truly happy and my life would skyrocket. Depressingly, you can’t change anyone’s background or even alter it. You would alter and change someone’s legacy or falling of their deaths. It’s a dangerous thing to do trust me. I’ve tried doing so to myself and I almost ceased my life from existence. I may sound over dramatic about this but it is a serious topic to cover. Deaths, lives, angels, devils. We all are coordinated to something. People sort me into the side of the devil just because of my background. That is my downfall if people knew my background I would be dead on a stake for sure. I might as well describe my background as though it may sound like a fairytale. My father was an angel, he was a top angel to be exact. But he wanted to over power god. He wanted more strength, more power. He tried to overpower him and he was sent to hell as a punishment for his evil deeds. That’s what made my background a failure. Something that made my success easily turn into failure. He roamed earth for years regretting his poor choice until he met a woman. Her skin fair, her hair the chocolate brown, her eyes, an icy realm that sucked his attention. He always found a way to see her everyday. He was always happy around her until, he saw her with a man. He was sleek yet buff, his hair was short yet out of the dimensions it was supposed to be in, his eyes were full of light. Then in her arms a baby girl. His happiness quickly turned over to the darkness that got him into this predicament to begin with. That night the lovely village that shined brightly on a hill really came into light. Not by the sun, but with orange, yellow and red flames that swarmed it. Screams, yells and cries were heard until there was silence. He walked around and to see the small family hugging one another. The man and the woman trying to protect the child. Sadly to his attention, the baby’s life ran short. He slowly reached down and grab the child’s corpse. He then saw that this was the creation that brought him to hate the woman he did one time love. That dead baby, is me. I am the dead child that he brought to his small house. He use the body to create a better child. One to his expectations and to reach his abilities, me. I am the one who must be forced upon this. My life would’ve been normal. I would’ve lived then died like the rest. Now, I live forever in this form. Red eyes that shine fear into the light of others. The sleek reddish purple hair that causes people to find interest, the pale skin that should easily burn yet the insides of the body are consumed by the flames of hatred and anger. The sadness keeps the flames under control. I am the creation of the fallen angel Lucifer.
