Halo Or Horns? (Only Ten Chapters)

*Book One* Prologue- Mother Drops The Bomb As I Choke On A Cheeseburger

This whole story is actually dedicated to my mom without whom i would have never thought about writing.

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BOOK ONE

Prologue

I was on my twelfth cheeseburger when mother threw the bomb.

"Arabella I think you should join a high school."

I snorted with my mouth full and began to choke.

"You mean" gulp. "Like a school where all humans attend?"

My mother sat in her customary serene posture and gave a slow graceful nod.

I opened my eighth can of coke and took a great swig waiting for the punch line.

My mom just continued to watch me with her mesmerizing blue eyes.

"Are you serious?" I finally asked incredulously when she didn't burst into peals of laughter and punch her armrest with both her fists and say "Gotcha there!" like how my father did sometimes. Don't get me wrong I didn't possess a wild enough imagination to ever picture my Mother behaving like that.

Her kind didn't have a sense of humor.

"Yes. I'm perfectly serious." That's another thing about my mother's kind. They always have to answer rhetoric questions. I gawked at my absurdly beautiful mother as though she had sprouted horns.

"Mother you know I cannot interact with humans. Besides I have no interest in their world." I exclaimed as I munched on two creamy donuts at the same time.

My mother narrowed her eyes. "You're plenty interested in their food." I sighed.

She caught me there. I mumbled something below my breath unfortunately for me with my mother's super hearing she caught it.

"Arabella who taught you to swear?"

I looked everywhere else except at her, refusing to meet her gaze. But my mother didn't need an answer.

"Your father is a bad influence."

Ha. According to Holy Scriptures you couldn't get a worse influence than my father.

Sometimes my mother is unintentionally funny.

"Mother." I sigh as I say this, "Why are we having this impossible not to mention ridiculous conversation?"

My mother watched her dainty fair hands for a moment then looked up at me her ethereal face filled with emotion as she whispered. "I'm worried about you."

My muscles tensed in anticipation of her next words. I had been dreading this for years now. I knew what she was about to say. "You... you don't seem to fit here Arabella."

You're wrong mother I wanted to scream at her. I don't seem to fit anywhere.

My mother is an angel and I am not using some endearing term here. I mean it literally. My mother is a full-blooded, honest to God (no pun intended) angel, born of heavens and pure light.