Wind Kill The Rain

The night Molly was killed, she discovered another world which lead her into many surprises, like meeting drop dead gorgeous Carl, an angel from Heaven. But when she meets Dean, a secretive, handsome being also in Heaven, she is torn between the two, even if she doesn't show it. Then Dean shares his secret with her. After Molly's reactions, she realises that part of the war between Heaven & Hell is her fault. Who will take victory over their enemy?


3. Chapter 2


  I woke to the beautiful sound of music. Not heavy music rock stars play and not pop music that they play in night clubs. It’s a graceful, soft piece being played over and over again. A keyboard, maybe, or a harp. I let the thoughts whir around my brain... My brain? Wasn’t I shot in the head, on the night of my 17th birthday? Anyway, it doesn’t matter, I’m still alive, I think.


  I sat up and gave the room a proper look. Below me was a white duvet, decorated with delicate lace patterns. My eyes traced the intricate designs of the wood bed frame, lingering on the top. I’ve always wanted a four poster bed, ever since I was little. A large wood wardrobe sulked in the corner as did its neighbour, the matching chest of drawers. In the left corner of the room stood a gorgeous dressing table, the sort with two folding mirrors, at the side, all made of wood.

  Then I spotted a large painting on the right wall, next to me. As I drew closer, the painting became clearer. It was of a young girl, about a year older than me. Her light brown hair tumbled down, just past her shoulders. Gold eyes lined by what looked like thick black eyeliner shone at something in the distance. A long gold, fur-lined cape draped from her shoulders down to her feet. A simple, but beautiful white gown circled her feet, which were dressed in.... white sneakers? I thought she was a queen, from which a golden crown sat upon her head.

“That’s Queen Jemima.”

I jumped. I kept my back facing the door.

“Excuse me, Miss, I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

I turned slowly. The same boy I saw earlier stood in the doorway. He’d changed. His fair hair has highlights of brown in it now and his skin looks a little tanned.

“No, you... didn’t interrupt me from anything.” I replied.

He had no wings, nor halo.

“Where are your wings?” I asked quietly, letting my hair fall into my face.

“My wings, oh. We don’t wear them all the time, you see. We wear them when we are asked to do our jobs. We have a choice whether we want to wear them when we hang out.”

“Who’s we? How do you know all this?” I said darkly, perching on the edge of the four poster.

He flicked his hair out of his eye and walked casually towards me, stopping at the end of the bed.

“Let me introduce myself, I’m Carlos.” He smiled, holding out one hand.

I raised one eyebrow.

“Carlos? You’re wearing jeans. The latest stuff?! How come you were named that?” I took Carlos’ hand and shook it.

“I know it sounds ridiculous,” he said, moving to sit next to me.  “Us angels, we can come from different times on Earth, but here on Heaven, we don’t age, look-wise. I died when I was eighteen, and I look eighteen now. Age-wise, I must be... 102 years old. You can call me Carl, if you like, most of the other angels call me that.”

I nodded uncertainly. He is an angel! But what am I?

“Am I an angel, if I’m here, with you?”

“No,” he laughed, his voice musical. “You’re a newcomer. You died yesterday. When you become older and wiser here in heaven, you develop wings. Only Queen Jemima has gold wings, the rest of us have white. Since I look after the newcomers, do you want me to show you around?”

I nodded eagerly.








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