It is the twentieth of March, and Emily Hayes is twenty-six years, five weeks, two days, four hours, one minute and seven seconds old and currently locked in a dark room. Now, as a rule, Emily had never liked the dark. It was a phobia that could be traced easily to her early childhood, when, at the age of six, she had been kidnapped by a demon, locked in a closet, and left there for a full week and seven hours. Emily had been found later, on the corner of Fiftieth Avenue and Jones Drive, asleep and clutching a red balloon on a white string. She had fully recovered a day later, but her fear of small spaces and darek areas had lingered, though lessened, all her life.

"Help! GET me OUT of here!" She shouted, banging the door of the room, her red hair whipping when she turned her head. The walls and ceiling seemed to be closing in on her. The darkness was unbearably wide, and appeared to encompass the whole world. "HELP! ... Please." She pleaded. The dark was suddenly lit by a small white pinpoint. It was tiny, but it was enough. It flickered, then darted to her eye level. She reached up, hand flat. It rested in her palm, illuminating a small circle all around. "Are you here to help me?" It's... Wings? It was fading a bit, just so she could see what it was. It was a moth. White, pure, silver-white, and she could see small grey lines froming a pair of angel's wings on it's wings. "Thanks." She smiled, green eyes softening, watching as it settled into her palm. She leaned back, settling in herself for a long wait.

Now, the events leading up to this particular moment are highly unusual, unadvisable, and unfortunate. They are entirely rare, and extremely against all laws, angel and personal. But they happened anyway. I am nothing important in this story, merely a bystander, a watcher unable to stop the tragedy unfolding in front of me. I am dreadfully sorry for what happened, and at the same time extremely grateful. You see, Emily Hayes is a Prophet, a conduit for Our Lord's writings, His will. And that pretty silver moth? That's my brother. The Archangel Gabriel.

The most idiotic, philosophical, kind, and utterly confusing being in the whole of reality. And her boyfriend.

Ah well...

"When life gives you lemons, throw them back and demand pie." - Dean Winchester