about an angel - prologue

people wonder what its like to die all the time. i hear it in their thoughts as they're about to shoot themselves in the head, like "is this gonna hurt?" i hear it in their minds just walking down the street. they just wonder. some people, the ones who talk to themselves, say it out loud. and i don't just mean the ones who are thinking of committing Harry Kerry either, the perfectly sane ones who just happen to be thinking about it.1

the high-schoolers kill me. you know the kind, the depressed ones who have a bottle of Vic in one hand and their daddy's .45 in the other. "which one would hurt more, od'ing on the pills or just shooting myself in the head?" the truth is, either one will kill ya, but you could also survive either one. you could stick the gun in your mouth, but have it aimed too far to either side and just give yourself a killer (no pun intended) migraine. or you could try to od on the Vic, not take enough, and wind up either in a coma, or over on the fourth floor healthy as a horse.2

the really young kids are great too. they can almost always see me, know i'm there, and the first thing they ask is either "where do babies come from?" or "did it hurt when you died?" i really wouldn't know. you see, angels don't ever live, so they never die. we are sort of born, but we aren't babies or kids or teenagers. we come into the world appearing to be adult humans, of whatever race is dominant in the part of the world we were created to inhabit. that way, if we're seen, we blend in.3

of course, the only people who ever see us are, like i said, the very young and open-minded, and the very sick and/or dying. of course, there are the few people, most people would call them 'freaks,' who can see us as perfectly healthy adults. 'clairvoyant' is a better word. clairvoyants just have a better understanding for the natural order of things. if only there were more clairvoyants in the world, there wouldn't have to be so many of us. babies see us too. if you ever see a baby look very intently at something across the room, and you look where they're looking and see absolutely nothing, they're looking at one of us. if they smile, its because they're smiling at one of us. we're very good with babies.4

another question we get a lot is if there really are angels. of course there are. one for every human born on this planet, and then a few special extras like me who are here for the common good of humanity i guess. when the person each normal angel is assigned to dies, the angel sort of does too. goes back up to heaven with their charge, and becomes their guide. so to speak. now you're thinking, 'i've seen that movie city of angels, can they become human?' the answer is yes and no. normal angels can appear to their respective humans to help them out or lead them to God's kingdom, but they cannot become human. the movie was just that, a movie, made to make some people a quick buck. but us angels, we were all worried. they almost nailed the real us there.5

but, i digress. now my type of angel essentially is human. we do everything as humans do, with human bodies and minds, but we are immortal. we cannot die, get sick, hurt, anything. we have emotions, which is the only thing that keeps us in cognito from humans. other angels don't, and can sometimes stand out like a sore thumb. ever see someone you don't recognize at a funeral? they're not crying, and no one knows who they are but that one yo-yo in the back who brought them here for support? more than likely, that's an angel. in human form. my type do feel the same things you do.6

anyhow, i've been roaming this so-so earth for a good long time. the year i was "born" was 1182. i came here in england in the time of henry II. I was in the monestery as he was flogged by the monks as his penance for the murder of the archbishop of canterbury. I stayed in england until a future scottish rebel by name of william wallace was born, around the year 1270. i wandered europe until the time of the pilgrims, and have since been in america. i call that early time my 'childhood and adolescence' because during that time i was not as i am now. i was intemperate and rash. 'snap decision' was my middle name. i was like this until the year of 2001, my seven hundred and thirtiy first year of existence. by then i had seen so much, and yet so little.7