The Forgotten Angel ✔️

Chapter 10: Damn Alarms

Who am I? A question most people end up asking themselves at some point in their lives. Why am I important? What's my purpose in life? I was big on the last question when I was first starting out. Purpose—we live trying to figure out our purpose in the grand scheme of things. My father once told me that people have dedicated their entire lives searching for one big purpose, yet when they find out how simple that purpose is, they struggle to fulfill it.

Much like Luke, I went through a portion of my life where I didn't know who I was or what my purpose was. When I found out who I was, I had no words—and for a man whose words can change everything, that's pretty surprising. But no matter who I was, my purpose remained the same as everyone else's. My father dictated thousands of years ago everyone's purpose, and yet many struggle to fulfill it.

It is a person's quest for purpose that evil can manipulate easily. And for Luke, he felt the wrong end of the stick of manipulation. His mind was ravaged with doubt in the face of truth. Throughout his classes on Wednesday he was in a trance. When a teacher called his name for roll call in class, other students had to pull him out of his trance in order for him to acknowledge, "Here." But, it wasn't the first time he had to be pulled out from a trance....

The day went by and he seemed to shut himself from reality. He received messages from Nellie on his phone but hesitated to respond. This was all a dream. Seeing fire in my hand was one thing. I could probably come up with a scientific explanation for spontaneous combustion. But a floating shadow that only I can see and hear? Am I delusional? Am I crazy? What's wrong with me?

He knew if he went to a counselor they'd diagnose him as a loony and send him packing. He couldn't talk to his friends about it either because they would only make fun of him—especially Alex. God forbid Alex finds out. He'll hang my ass out to dry. The only person who may understand was the one who experienced the encounter with him: Father Matthew. That scared him the most—the fact that he had a witness to his insanity. What if he reports me? What will they do to me? He was in a loving household and couldn't bear any more of that psychological counseling the orphanage put him through as a child as they raked his brain for any memories as to who he was and where he came from. For years he was the son of a gay couple, and he was happy with that. It felt strangely normal. He had loving parents who protected him, gave him everything he needed to survive and succeed.

But this talk of heritage coming from the mouth of a shadow—does it mean anything? Am I truly special? Or is this just my mind playing tricks on me? The first few years of his life, those years he can never recall for the life of him, what happened in those damn years? If he knew what happened throughout those years, if he had people who had been there from the beginning to tell him, he'd have less doubt and more confidence that this thing that spoke about his heritage was just messing with his mind. But with all the events occurring on campus and this talk of demons from Father Matthew—he was starting to believe that something supernatural was occurring. I better be careful, otherwise I'll end up like one of those crazy people on the History Channel finding supernatural causes in every occurrence in life.

And before he knew it, his thoughts had carried him throughout the hump day of the week and it was 8PM. He was heading back to Opus after having dinner by himself at the Pryz.

And that's when the alarms went off.

"ATTENTION! ATTENTION! SHELTER IN PLACE IMMEDIATELY! THIS IS NOT A DRILL. ATTENTION! ATTENTION! ..."

The alarm rocked the entire campus like a nuclear air raid drill on constant repeat. Luke was outside of the Kane fitness center when the sirens went off. He turned around and saw all the lights shut off in the Kane and students flowing out like a broken dam. The building was unsafe because of all the glass walls that surrounded it. He turned back around and looked up at the decrepit Flather Hall in front of him, where boys dormed in traditional style housing with a shared bathroom that looked like a giant outhouse from the Vietnam War. Some of the guys opened up the window and shouted jokingly at him, "Run!" They snickered like pigs wallowing in mud and laughed as one of their fellow students was in danger. Luke picked up the pace but didn't run. He didn't want to show fear.