A/N: This story will be made up as I go along and updates will probably be… Every few days?
I'll probably post more info in later chapters, set in England iyw.
I also apologize if I offend anyone, I just wanted to mess on the idea of angels... Terribly sorry if anyone's offended.
Anyway…
Prologue- Replay.
As a child, he had been taught that angels didn't exist; only in heaven they existed. That they were the most beautiful with a face free of blemish and donned from head to toe in a white as clean as fallen snow. Their wings that were apparently soft to touch and a ring of gold above their heads that glowed like the sun itself, people had been told this as tales passed from generations to generation of the myth of an angel. They would help and guide, always watching even though not seen. Why were they not seen? Were people not good enough to see something as beautiful as an angel? Was there another reason?
People wondered and stressed over this as years passed and the twenty first century finally came around. The century where the novelty faded and people stopped wondering as they had other things to think about, when they stopped being told stories about beautiful angels that only existed on cardboard Christmas cards at this point.
All until one angel was spotted, first flying and then interacting. The angel was never recounted to have spoken though; all people saw was a flash of dirty blonde and green before nothing at all… Later waking up in the arms of a loved one or a hospital room…
It was only the constant ring of the alarm clock at seven in the morning that woke Alfred from his sleep, constantly, each day. The pulling of covers from his bare body and the indignant squeal of his brother when he notices he had been sleeping bare and then the hard kick to the bed frame as he kicked it. Walking like a tired animal until he got his toast and chocolate spread and his every day glass of orange juice.
Every day.
Each day.
No changes at all.
Today was going to be no different; school at twenty to nine and maybe the internet when he gets home… A nap when he's feeling really beat and then bed after Jane Jones finds him still awake at two in the morning the next day. Repeat. This was the life that Alfred F Jones lived; the forever cycle of school and no social life, only the strangers from around the world on Xbox live or the PS3.
A yawn as he stretched with his wrists pointed to the ceiling, his pressed uniform laid out on the bed and his music playing quietly in the background to avoid waking his single mother who slept soundly in the room next door. If he dresses early then maybe someone will still be up to play COD with him, time zone differences and all. Maybe Matthew will rant his ear off finally today with his constant groaning about being late for school and Alfred using all of the bread or milk.
He thought today would be no different as he pressed the buttons in the holes of his straight shirt and got the zipper stuck in his boxers whilst rushing to get out of the house. He'd chat excitedly to his brother who would only half listen about the new games coming out as they walk down the icy path to get the bus. He would wave excitedly to his uncle who was usually out shovelling snow this time of year; his uncle would wave back a little less happily. Everyday occurrences.
This was the constant way of life that Alfred lived, with nothing changing each day. He was okay though, he had never had something major happen in his life. That was to be expected of a fifteen, almost sixteen, year old boy that was in his final year of high school, maybe six form afterwards.
Though today, no, tonight, would change it all; a smudge in the everyday life of Alfred F Jones. A smudge that will appear many times as his life wears on.