Send Me an Angel
© Tiffany Irene Madison
I was walking down the streets, as I like to do. Every movement catches my eye from its corner. It’s a funny thing, constantly seeing from the corner of your eye as you look straight ahead. Out of this corner there was an orange blur, which directs my head towards the blaze of a fire. It was an apartment building, as such large fires tend to locate themselves, that had half of it set ablaze.
The flames were so luridly stunning that I found myself staring at them while the crowd in front of me shrieked and panicked. An array of warm colors faded upwards into thick smoke.
What? Why is everything black?
“I knew you’d be here,” the soft yet dark voice said.
“I don’t understand...” And I truly didn’t. I was gazing into the flames then this place. Or is it even a place? It must be. Everything can be a place. No, everything has a place. So, surely, where I stand has one, too.
“I’m simply a messenger. You have been chosen, young one.”
“Chosen? But I am a simple man. No more than an ordinary soul. Why should anyone choose me?”
“Once again, I’m simply a messenger. I cannot answer your question. But I am not done with my message, Chosen.”
An angel will come to you tomorrow. All that is required of you is to be outside of your home in some part of that day. Then the angel will come to you. That is all I know.”
An angel? The words silence me. I’m at college for an English degree, the vaguest subject. I’m in my sophomore year and still have no plans for my future. There is absolutely nothing about me that is special or makes me stand out as an extraordinary man. I am but a man.
I still stand in silence. Is the angel to make me special? Or maybe it’s not literal. Maybe the angel is a woman who I will love. God knows how long it’s been since I’ve had a girlfriend. Is the angel a woman? A man? A million questions race through my mind. I try to at least squirm out one question, but nothing. But it wouldn’t matter anyway, he’s an idiot messenger. Like a novice parrot who has only learned two words.
Rush of wind.
I open my eyes to see the sky then a circle of faces. The faces were looking down on me. It was the same shrieking crowd.
I had fallen.
I must’ve shocked the crowd even more when I woke up smiling. An angel was going to visit me! Why wouldn’t I be happy? I hurriedly disappeared from the now confused crowd and dying fire. I watched TV for a while when I got home and then retired early for a good sleep.
I woke up with no dreams from last night. It was 10 AM. Good sleep indeed. I spent the next two hours planning my day, taking a break every half hour or so to relax my brain with music. I would visit the music store, since it’s been so long, and go walking around a stripmall I know of, with video game shops and general shops.
I spent the next hour getting ready. Even though I’m male, I want to look nice for my day with the angel. I bused my way to the music store, where I bought Led Zeppelin CDs and a CD binder for my overgrowing collection. While I was looking through CDs, I constantly looked up to see if anyone was looking at me. No one. The angel will come to me. He or she will talk to me first. I had nothing to worry about. I stopped appearing paranoid and moved on to the stripmall.
Out of the video game systems I have, no games caught my eye. It was the same old, same old. I quickly rescanned the small store then walked out. Sigh. No angel yet. It was close to 1 PM when I left and it was a minute away from three o’clock now. The next part of the stripmall required crossing the street. I look both ways then start off.
In a split second, a truck hits me. I find myself in the same pitch black, but it’s going to last a little while. I’m lying down as I must’ve been on the road. But there are no faces circling me today. Wh-, What happened to the angel? Wasn’t an angel supposed to meet me?
The messenger appears as the only face above me.
“Behold...” he says in the same soft and dark voice, “the Angel of Death.”