I woke up at noon. My dream last night was so interesting; it must have kept me in its world for as long as it could. The wings…they must have been Michael. The ghostly figure must have been me; he’s always trying to protect me. As for the fire…they reminded me so much of Damon, and yet…the flames were trying to get to me. Attack me. What did that mean? Was Damon dangerous? Why else would Michael try to keep me away from him? And what did he mean by I can’t remember what it was that he had caused me to do? Caused me to do when? Where?
All these questions were swarming my head as I walked out of the house in a daze. I didn’t see Christine anywhere; she must have headed off to work. There was, however, a note. It was sitting on our glass coffee table underneath the vase of flowers Tiger loved to play with.
“Serena,
Why didn’t you come home? You leave, even though I clearly tell you NOT to. Then you don’t come home until some odd time. Yes, I know you did, in fact, return, since I walked into your room and gave you a good poking as punishment. Of course, you must have been exhausted since you just grunted and rolled over. How late did you stay up? Wait, I don’t even want to know.
I’m writing this because as your friend, I care about you. I know that you have something going on that you’re not telling me about. I’m not going to pressure you into telling me anything, but just know that you can talk to me. Is it about a boy?
Again, I care about you. That’s why I always freak whenever you want to leave the house without any clear meaning or destination in mind. I’m a friend that cares and that pesters and annoys the hell out of you until you understand that I do it because I care. And yes, I’m saying I care too much, but I don’t care. I CARE!!!
Well, I’m off to work. Make sure to feed Tiger. I don’t know why, but he’s taken a liking to me. Do you know what it means? I sure don’t.
Your caring and slightly pestering friend,
Christine…xoxoxo”
I smiled. Poor Christine. I put her through so much, but I couldn’t tell her about anything. Especially since it’s obviously something beyond my understanding. All I know is that the amusing, yet meaningful, letter both brightened my day and made me feel bad for keeping my life from her. We always told each other everything, yet this one thing – the most important thing – in my life, I couldn’t tell her.
I walked into the kitchen and filled Tiger’s food bowl before pouring myself a bowl of cereal. A minute after I sat at the couch to finish up my bowl while watching a rerun of my favorite show, Tiger pawed his way into the kitchen to fill his tummy up, too.
“Hey Tiger,” I cooed at him, like a mother talking to her infant. In a way, Tiger WAS my baby. I’ve had him since he was a kitten. The day I got him was the day that I moved in with Christine, and ever since, he’s been like our baby. But only in the adopted way; meaning he was my baby, but she adopted him into her home.
“Yes, Christine, it’s about a boy…” I murmur while I watched Tiger eat his food in peace. Cats had it so easy. They just lounged around and received love from all around. Not questions, or mystery, or complicated situations. Just love.
Sighing, I finish up my cereal and dump my bowl into the sink, scratch Tiger behind the ears, write a short note to Christina letting her know that she has nothing to worry about and Tiger had been fed, then head out the door.
I slowly walked toward the alley and spotted a figure sitting on a turned over crate, their head leaning against the wall.
“Damon…” I whisper, panicked, and instantly hide behind the corner. I peek and see the figure lift their head and peer at me, before footsteps warned me they were coming near. My eyes quickly scanned the floor at my feet and spotted a thin metal pipe that looked deadly while light. Lifting it up with ease, I raised it above my head, ready to beat him to death before he had another chance to trap me. The minute I saw their foot step around the corner, I swung the pipe down. Hard. I heard them grunt in pain. I was bringing it up again to strike another blow when a strong hand grabbed my weapon and yanked it out of my hands, throwing it across the street. Before he had a chance to do anything, I kicked my leg up to kick him in the groin. “Take THAT, Damon!” I yelled, aiming right where his holy place was.
“Damon?” a familiar voice replied in an incredulous voice, dodging my kick and grabbing my shoulders. “Do I look like Damon to you?”
I looked up and saw the most pleasant thing I could. Shining blue eyes filled
with amusement, black hair falling in front of them.
“Michael,” I breathe, wrapping my arms around him and hugging him in relief.
He laughed and grabbed my hand, leading me to the crate he was sitting on.
“You’re late.”
“I know,” I say, looking down. I didn’t want to bring up the dream with him. I wondered vaguely if it was related to what he was going to tell me today.
“I thought I told you to be here in the morning…” he glanced down at me.
“I know! I’m sorry. I slept in. Okay?” I instantly grew defensive and turned to face him, crossing my arms.
He laughed, “It’s fine, Serena.” His hand reached toward my cheek and his thumb stroked it gently. My eyes closed, my face leaning into his caress. Then, he cleared his throat and took his hand away. I must have looked disappointed because he smiled faintly.
“So, you really want to know the truth behind your mysterious past? The meaning behind mine and Damon’s words?”
I nodded.
He sighed and looked away, looking at the brick wall in front of him. The look in his eyes gave away what he was really seeing; the past.
“It was a century ago. I was a lone boy living on the streets. My family had just been killed by the army that was taking everyone out back then. The army went around each town and killed off everyone they deemed unworthy of living. My parents weren’t what others thought of as obedient. They went against everything the leaders told us to do. As their punishment, they were killed.
I was hiding away from the killers in an alley way. I was in between the bakery and the library. I crouched in the corner furthest away from the street so shadows would engulf me. I thought I couldn’t be seen. I was right…to a point. I couldn’t be seen by the ‘human’ eye. But the heavenly beings…that was a different story. One came up to me and told me this: ‘There will come a day when you will want to leave this earth. When that day comes, you will be visited by me. I will do something that will allow your wish to come true.’
He shimmered and disappeared after that. The last thing I saw…was his flaming red hair.”
He looked at me then, seeing if I recognized the reference he made. I stared back at him, confused.
“It was Damon. He was the one who told me that. He wanted me out of this world, to become like him. Or, I shouldn’t say he was the one who wanted to me to leave this world. It was his leader. The leader of the underground you humans refer to as Hell.
Damon was sent to that alley way to send me that message. The message itself was from Lucifer, the Fallen Angel. Satan. Damon’s leader,” he paused then, staring at the ground, unconsciously clenching his fists.
I laid a hand on his tight fists, causing him to slowly loosen them and take my hand as he continued his story.
“They had to kill me first. In order to become like Damon, I had to die. Once I died, I would be sent to heaven to go through the ritual of becoming an angel. Once that happened, I was to betray God, to disobey and rebel against him. He would then banish me from heaven, causing me to turn into a Fallen Angel; Lucifer’s slave.”
I stared at him, my eyes wide. Angels? Heaven? A century ago? Did he expect me to believe all this? I mean, I felt bad for his parents dying. If that was really Damon who caused him to go through that mental war, then I hate him even more. But Damon being Lucifer’s messenger? Wanting Michael dead? Everything he was saying sounded like something that happened in the Bible. Like something that I would read about in a religious historical text book.
Not something that he would go through.
“So w-what you’re saying is t-that you and D-damon knew each other a c-c-century ago?!” I stuttered, my voice rising on the last word. “You expect me to believe that?!”
He took a minute to answer, “I’m not asking you to believe. I’m not even expecting it. I’m just telling you what happened. I’m telling you the truth of how me and Damon know each other. Why we hate each other. And in a bit, how you enter the picture.”
I sat there, unsure of what to think. I guess I can listen a little longer and determine later if what he says is the truth.
“May I continue?” he asked.
I nodded and he continued unraveling the mystery that was his past.
“It was a starless night when Damon returned. My life had become worthless and I had nothing to live for. I made the unconscious wish that I wanted to just get my death over with, and the following night, Damon arrived. ‘You want to die so soon after my first visit?’ he had asked me, with a devilish smirk. I was so naïve back then, I didn’t recognize the danger in that smile. ‘Everything’s going downhill. Just get it over with,’ I had told him. I wasn’t aware of what awaited me. I didn’t know that he wanted me to become Lucifer’s slave. He had grinned and pulled a dagger out from behind his back. ‘You shall go to heaven, turn against His name, and find your way to Lord Lucifer,’ he murmured before stabbing me in the heart.
“The death was a quick one, seeing as how he had perfect aim. Next thing I knew, I was floating upward into the sky, nothing more than a ghostly white mist. Suddenly, large golden gates appeared and a figure clad in a white robe motioned me past. The gates opened and I glided along the clouds until I made it to a large white house designed like that of Roman architecture. I walked through the doors and there He stood. He opened his arms and enveloped me in his pure holy light. ‘Welcome, child. I have blessed thee,’ his voice floated to me in a gentle and pure – but strong – voice. Warmth spread through my body, and feathers begin to float around me. They spiraled in a lovely tornado of feathery whiteness until they obscured everything. Suddenly, heat erupted in my back, and large wings unfolded, resembling those swirling around my confused body. The spiraling feathers ceased and He walked up to me. ‘I bestow upon thee thy symbol of the divine,’ he said to me as he placed a halo above my head. He then hugged me and sent me on my way.
“The next few days were a blur of luxury. Everything I could have wanted was at my fingertips. I was graced with His presence, even when he wasn’t there. I could feel him within me; my very soul could hear his song. Then, Damon came to me in my dream.
“He warned me that his Lord was waiting impatiently for my arrival. For him to be satisfied, I was to rebel against thy Holy Father tonight. I tried to argue that I wished not to go against him, but be blessed by him for eternity, but Damon would not hear of it. He said either I follow his Lord’s orders, or he would kill me for good. I had no choice; that night I sinned in the most horrid way one could imagine. I went down to Earth and entered a hospital. The one rule they had engraved in my mind was ‘Never kill that which was just born. Never kill innocents.’ I went against that rule, for it was the main rule in Heaven. That night, I killed a baby girl sleeping in her mother’s arms. The girl had light brown hair and soft green eyes that looked at me with such wonder. I lifted my hand and slowly placed my hands around that poor child’s neck. I kept them there, slowly tightening, until the life left the child’s eyes.”
He paused and looked at me with such sorrow and pain in his blue eyes. He hugged me, saying over and over again, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
I had no idea what he was sorry about. But I realized something; I had light brown hair and green eyes as well. Could that baby have been me? Shaking my head, I said aloud, “It couldn’t be. It was a century ago…”
Michael lifted his head, “But it was. That baby was you. Not the you today, but it was you. You see, when a baby is killed twenty-four hours after birth, they are reincarnated later. Throughout the years, you continued to be reincarnated. While your memories weren’t kept in your memory bank, the you then is the you now. You were just born into different families. But your soul…that’s the same. That’s what allowed both me and Damon to recognize you.”
“But…if you killed me – an innocent baby – wouldn’t you have gone to Lucifer’s dwelling? I mean, you went against God. And you said that – “
“If I went against Him, then I will be banished from heaven, causing me to turn into a Fallen Angel and Lucifer’s slave,” he cut me off. “Yes, I said that. And I came close to becoming his slave. But you see, when one betrays God, you have two choices: remain on Earth with you humans, or go to Lucifer. And was it not Lucifer who caused me to kill such an innocent child? I had no wish to go to him. I chose to remain here. The in-between of Heaven and Hell. Damon has no choice but to stay in Hell. You see, he chose to become a Fallen Angel on his own free will. Why? Because his father is a Fallen Angel. Not any Fallen Angel, either. His father is the Lord of the Underworld.”
“Lucifer is Damon’s father?!” I said, shocked. No wonder he hates Michael so much. Michael had a choice. If Damon hadn’t become just like his father, he would have been laughed at for eternity. It was better to follow in his father’s footsteps.
Michael nodded, choosing to stay quiet now. I wasn’t about to let him, though. I still had questions.
“Michael? What did Damon make me do?”
He looked up at me with regret in his eyes. “You don’t want to know…”
“Tell me. If it’s something I need to know, then just say it.”
He sighed. “What he caused you to do…it was horrible. There was a rumor going around talking about taking blood. This was two years after I…k-killed you,” he choked on those last two words. “It was said that taking blood from a child five years of age could make you live for ten years longer without aging a bit. Damon wished to collect this blood for his own purposes. Yet, how can he when he was caught up in his father’s business? He needed someone to do it. Someone he could trust, that he knew or recognized. That’s where you come in. You were 15 years old at the time. A young girl hanging out with her friends. He took on the appearance of a dashing young man and lured you away. He cast his magic on you and caused you to fall in love with him,” his words were coming out through tight lips. He obviously didn’t like the effect Damon cast on me. “Of course, a girl in love would do anything for her man. He persuaded you to take the blood of your baby brother, who had just turned five that week. You cried to him, ‘No, Damon! I can’t!’ but he wouldn’t hear of it. ‘You’ll give me that blood or you will die,’ he had threatened you, losing the charm he had pulled on you before. That night, a scream was heard in your room as your little baby brother’s blood was spilled. You snuck out right after you killed him and met Damon out back. ‘Here’s what you wanted,’ you grumbled, handing him the tube of blood before turning away. He didn’t care how much you hated him. As long as he had what he wanted. I have no idea what he wanted it for though.”
My eyes were wide with terror, moist from tears, my hand clasped over my mouth. He made me kill my brother?! That was…horrible! A true monster’s deed! And why did I go through with it? Was I insane?
Michael must have seen my obvious horror because he held me in a tight hug as I cried. Sure, I didn’t know my baby brother, but he was MY brother after all.
Even if he was in my past. “He’s a monster,” I whispered into his shoulder.
We sat there for a minute, before Michael asked me, “D-do you remember kissing him? Ever?”
I shook my head. I then recalled how familiarly my body and lips were reacting toward his. DID I kiss him? At some point? Sighing, I realized something. I would have to ask Damon himself for that answer. Michael wouldn't know. But he would know one thing.
“Would Damon ever try to kill me?” I asked him, referring to my dream, and how the flames were trying to snake their way toward me; an obvious threat.
He took a minute to respond. “If he wanted you to be a Fallen Angel, then it’s a big possibility. But there’s one other cause if he would ever try…and that would be to cause me to be depressed. Taking away the one thing that makes me happy and wish to remain on this in-between state, that would give him clear passage for having me on Lucifer’s side. Staying with Lucifer would be the only way for me to live. Because even though you may reincarnate as you have been, there’s a limit. You may only reincarnate five times. This, sadly, is your last time. If you were to die, you would die a true death. Unless of course, you were to become a fallen angel.”
There was one more question I was yearning to ask, but knew it would make things worse. When Damon looked at me, his eyes softened. He completely changed. He became gentle and passionate, like one would with the one they loved. Could it be?.....Did Damon love me? Has he loved me for all this time? Maybe there was an event in my life that only Damon knew about. That would explain why he would love me for this long. That settled it. Next person I had to talk to would have to be Damon. Michael explained their past to me. There are two possible reasons why they hate each other: Michael had a choice, whereas Damon didn't. But also…They both loved the same girl. Me.
Knowing there wasn’t any more Michael could tell me, I hugged him and gave him a very passionate kiss before heading back home. Christine was there, sitting on the floor playing with Tiger. Seeing the look on my face, she knew something was wrong. Yet, she kept quiet. I slowly made my way into my room
and laid down.
---
My dreams consisted of a mixture of passion and horror. One minute, I would be in a deep embrace with Michael. The next, I would be in a passionate lip lock with Damon. Then I would be stabbing a knife into the heart of a little boy who looked exactly like me.
I tossed and turned that night.
When I awoke, I had one thing on my mind. I had to get answers from Damon. Maybe then, I would understand this complicated web of mystery and betrayal that was my life – whether it be past or present.
