Don't the highest angels always fall the furthest?





I never knew, what my parents looked like. I was born in a pitch black world.

Maybe that's the reason, I never feared darkness.

But I can still hear... and smell... and taste...

Altough now the only thing I feel is a sticky liquid on a broken body, that I

used to see as my angel. She was warm and caring and once I heard of those

beautiful angels, with white wings and a golden heart. So I imagined she

must be one of them.

I was told, God keeps them save, as his holy children.

But if there's a God, then why did he let her die?

I embrace the body and I'm afraid to let it go. Who knows, how far away God

will take his beloved. And she's the only one left. Where should I go to?

Who tells me when to duck and when to jump, when to run and when to slow down?

I'm terrified... and maybe I'm just beginning to understand why the people fear

the darkness...

Dead. Dead. Dead.

They are all dead.

Is this what my future will look like?

Standing next to the dead bodies that used to be my family?

Or is it me who's next?

I knew there had been problems... and sorrow... and pain...

But there had also been love and joy and laughter.

There had been emotion.

Now there is nothing.

I hear soft footsteps and turn around.

Now they have come to fullfill their duty, I think and my body begins to shake.

The rustling of clothes stops beside me... the person must be near.

I want to run away.

I want to scream: leave me!

But the only thing I get out is a pained whisper.

„Please... please don't kill me"

„What did you say?" It's a male person with a consoling voice...

I repeat the words and he chokes and promises he won't harm me.

I don't trust him. His voice is too unsteady for his words to be true.

But I think he's afraid, so he can't be the one, who killed my parents.

„What's your name boy?" I hear him say. „Trunks."

He repeats my name slowly and it sounds sad... as if...as if...

The word fades away, before I can catch its meaning.

„Do.... never.... trust..."

He chokes and touches my forehead.

Is he going to die?

Is he dying?

In my arms again?

One more body to hold?

And one more corpse to cry for?

Don't! Don't!

And then I feel him collapse.

His body cold against mine....

And I look up.

And I look directly into his eyes

And they are white.

And dead.

The man is blind.