Through Heaven's Eyes

A single thread in a tapestry, though it's color brightly shines, can never see it's purpose in the pattern of the grand design. And the stone that sit's at the very top, of a mountains' mighty face, dose it think it's more important than the ones that form the base? So how can you see what your life is worth, where your values lies? You can never see through the eyes of man... You must look at your life, look at your life through Heaven's eyes...

.

.

.

It was a warm spring night, the sky drizzled it's damp onto the sleepy city below. He favored cooler weather, or nights when it rained. No one was surprised if a guy in a long coat and hat wanted to go see a movie, or just walk down the sidewalk like a normal person. Not that he did it often... only when he was questioning what he and his brothers did.

So they beat up a few gang members. Stopped a couple robberies. Did it even make a difference? He wondered sometimes. Sometimes it felt as though they'd saved the world... other times...

Other times, it felt like all of the evil and violence was too much, and what they did was like trying to hold back the tide with your bare hands. Save one person, and another 5 get hurt the same night. His brainiack brother had given him those helpful statistics.

How did they figure out how many people got hurt on average, anyhow? Did some weirdo go around asking who got attacked, and on what night?

A scream split the night, and the question of weather or not they made a difference fled his mind. A woman was shoved against the wall in an ally, the shine of a knife barely visible in the dim light. The thug was roughly dressed, and dug through the woman's hand-bag. Her eyes where pale blue... unfocused... unseeing! The purse was dropped, and the knife began to nick at her throat, a light line of red smearing against her skin.

A growl emerged from his through, and he leapt towards her attacker. He didn't even draw his weapons. Fist met face in a brief attack. Ninjistu met boxing in a fast take-down of one more of New York's finest criminals. He turned to the woman.

She was younger than he'd assumed, perhaps 20. "Hello? Are you still there?" She asked. Her voice didn't tremble, or sound like she was going into shock. "Who ever you are, thank you."

"No problem. You ok?" He asked softly, and held out his elbow to her seeking hand.

"Wow. Muscular." She smiled, and turned her Mocha-colored face towards him. "A knight in shining armor."

"I wouldn't say that..." He replied. "Heh. I've done some bad stuff... So don't make me out to be a hero or somthin'."

"You think you're the only one?" She walked steadily forward. "You think I was born this way?" He didn't respond, so she continued. "I was a bit of a wild child, teenage alcoholic... Drank a bottle of 'Ever-clear' on a bet. Just a small one, and I'd already had too much... And I blacked out. When I came to, I was in the hospital, and I was blind." To his surprise, she smiled. "And after that, my real life started. It could've killed me, but I survived by the grace of God. All he took from me was my sight. I won't say it's been fun, but other than getting places, I'm doing ok. With a little help for mysterious men..."

"How long ago did... I mean, you don't have to tell me if..." He tried to absorb everything she'd said. "Never Mind. Do you need help getting home?"

"Could you help me get a cab?" She asked quietly. "Then I can get the rest of the way myself." After a pause, she added, "I was 16. It was almost five years ago."

He walked with her back to the main street, and hailed a taxi in classic NYC fashion, and opened the door for her.

"I wish there was some way to reward you for what you did." She spoke softly as she sat down in the car.

"It was nuth'in." He replied. "Not like I saved the world."

"Maybe not." She squeezed his arm. "But you saved MY world. "You saved ME. I know we won't meet again, but my name's Beth. Can I at least know yours?"

He folded her coat into the cab with her, and let go of her arm.

"Raphael. My names Raphael." He nodded, even though she couldn't see it. "And thank YOU." He moved to close the door, but her hand stopped him.

"For what?" Beth asked in curiosity.

"For reminding me why I do what I do." He brought his hand up, and touched her face. "Goodnight... Beth."

The taxi pulled off into the traffic, and all that the passers by saw was a guy in a trench-coat and a fedora, walking down the side walk, like any normal person would.