The Anthem of the Castaway

Thick Fog

I'm awoken by a commotion in my room and I see Father and Wolf standing over the bodies of the two guards. Father strides over and picks me up and holds me to his chest as he starts running from the room. The pain becomes more intense with every movement, but I swallow it down and just clutch onto Father to keep from falling. I feel my skin burn as we fly up through the passageway and straight up to heaven. I clutch tighter to Father but the pain is overwhelming and I black out.

I awake in a soft bed, and I try to focus my vision to see where I am but my vision is far too blurred.

I turn on my side, realizing that the pain is much less intense again.

"Hey." I hear a female voice say. Through the fog I am unable to identify the voice, but a gentle caress of my face tells me that it is my mother.

I lay still in a foggy bliss, halfway pleased that I am in less pain. The words of Satan still nag on me though, and I can't help but to pair that with Fathers disapproval. What if he does want to destroy me?

"Come with me. Let's go home." The woman says, pulling on my arm. I oblige, and it takes a minute to get enough strength to stand, but before long she is guiding me as I walk semi blindly down the pathway. I see a glimmer of a sword in her other hand and shouting in the distance.

Small, hard objects pelt my body and the shouting gets closer. Feeling overwhelmed, I fall to the ground and cover my face, taking most of the pelting with my wings and my back.

"Back off! It's not her choice! Go fight, you're wasting your time!" She yells to the angels surrounding us.

She grabs my arm and pulls me upright again, this time forcing me to walk at a much faster pace. Stones hit all over my body, some striking harder than others.

We finally reach our destination and duck inside the door. I faintly hear rocks pelting the door and side of the house and it makes me glad that they don't have windows on the houses in heaven. She guides me to the spare bed and helps me lay down.

I want to ask why they are so angry at me, but my voice doesn't work and no words come out. She connects the IVs on my arm with bags hanging by the bed then she sticks a needle into the side of my neck, the contents of which make me start to fall asleep. The last thing I feel is her touching my forehead as I fall into a dreamless sleep.

I awake feeling more refreshed and much less foggy. This time I am able to mumble a few words to my mother who stands by my side with a plate of food.

"Morning." I tell her.

"Good morning." She responds, her voice bright and chipper. "I brought you some food."

I look at the food she brought and pick up a square of the pastry dish. It melts in my mouth, the sweet honeysuckle syrup glazed over the top adding to the whole flavor.

She sets the plate on the bedside table and checks the IV lines in my arm. After I finish eating the square I cough a few times, trying to be careful not to hack up blood on her bed or carpet. She notices my struggle and leaves for a moment to grab a towel from the bathroom for me.

I hack into the towel for a moment before setting it on the bedside table. "Does he really want to destroy me?" I ask her, referring to Father.

"He doesn't, but there are many angels that do. Father, Wolf, and I will be watching over you."

"Why did Satan take me?" I ask her, confused still. It's hard to connect the dots with the fog in my brain.

"There's a war. They are fighting over you. It's heaven against hell, but many demons and angels are switching sides. Hell wants to train you to be a warrior. Heaven believes that you shouldn't be allowed to become more powerful than the almighty Father. Many want you destroyed and everyone believes that Father wants you destroyed as well. The truth is, he doesn't know what he wants to do with you. He could never hurt you, let alone destroy you."

"Oh." I respond, unable to put a response together.

"Wolf thinks that we don't have to worry that we should live life like normal. But he's not thinking about the prophecy, he's just thinking about immediate danger." 

"What about you?" I ask, truly afraid to know the truth.

"We can't run from the prophecy. If we destroy you then another double winged angel will take your place. Who better than to be our warrior than you?" She tells me.

"So you're on Satan's side?" I ask, confused. She glances around for a moment before answering.

"I think this is all petty. Satan wants to train you. Father wants to subdue you. Wolf and I just want to leave you be. But nobody else is to know about our views, okay? We can't risk being banished by both sides." She tells me. It takes a moment to process the gravity of the situation she mentions. Instead of responding, I stretch, since the room is large enough for my wings to span inside. A sharp pain in the first joint of one of my angel wings stops me, and I chalk it up to a missed bullet. That can be removed later when I can heal.

"I don't want them to fight." I tell her. "It's a waste of suffering and a waste of resources."

"It's not like there's anything better for the lot of them to do." She retorts.

"Fair point. Not much to do in heaven." I tell her, sighing. "I just don't want to cause problems between Father and Satan." I cough for a moment while waiting for her to respond.

"I'll let you get more rest." She says, standing up.

"I'm not tired." I tell her, wishing she would stay with me.

"I will make you tired." She warns simply, a playful smile on her face.

"Bring it on, you know I love drugs." I joke, telling the half truth. With a life of addiction issues it is hard to deal with drugs, but I do always love the feeling of pain medication and sleeping medication. That far out feeling is to die for, figuratively speaking.

"And now I'm not giving you any. Thanks for the reminder." She says, referring to my problems.

"Thanks." I respond sarcastically, half regretting what I said. I lay back into my bed, letting my wings hang over the sides, the pinching feeling still in that first joint.

"Maybe I can sneak you a little something." She tells me. "Father is so busy I don't think he'll notice." She whispers, winking at me.

I feel my eyes open at the mention of "something". "Really? You'd do that?" I ask her, feeling excited even through the fog still in my mind. I'm ultimately shocked at the gesture, since I figured she would be as against altered state of mind as Father is.

"Yeah. I'll bring something back for you. You deserve a mental vacation."

I look at her again, trying to read her facial expressions through the fog in my vision. She turns and leaves, and I sink back into my pillow, deep in thought. Since when does she accept the use of drugs? Sure, she never really explicitly mentioned any distaste for them, but it seems like a nurse in heaven would not like them. After all, the only reason Angels ever go are to get bullets fished out of their flesh, broken bones reset, and drug overdoses taken care of. Angels heal everything else on their own typically, unless they are me. Oh yeah, and occasionally a foreign object needs to be fished out of the wrong place. I doze off into a dreamless sleep, content as can be.