The Day My Life Was Taken

'Who are you? What do you want?'
Those were the final words to ever come out of his mouth.


2. Chapter 2

I stand up, fists clenched. I am staring down at my hometown. It seems so miniscule from up here. Nothing more than an ants nest. It is an ants nest. Small, and seemingly harmless, but full of pests that hurt whenever they need to. Except these ants don't hurt you to defend themselves. No, they hurt you just because they can.

I wonder if they will be able to see me. I am, after all, dead. Maybe they can't see me. Maybe I can't touch them. But I should still be able to talk to them! What if I can't?

Calm down, Emmison. You'll get your revenge. You will get your revenge.

I squat down. I still don't know how I got here. It's been three weeks since I was killed, and there are still no clues as to how I got here. I rest my hands on my knees and sit cross-legged, planning. Planning as to what I'm going to do, and devising plan after plan after back-up plan. One of them has got to work. I pick up my bow-and-arrow from beside me.

You're probably wondering what I am? Yeah, I am an angel. Not the kind of angel you would see on movies or books, clothed in heavenly robes, and wings made from dove's feathers and all that. No, I'm the kind of angel that is dressed in a black, tattered dress, my small wings made from crows feathers. Heavenly angels carry harps. I carry a bow and arrow. I cry blood. This has all come from the kind of person I was when I was alive. Or maybe it has come from my attitude towards me death. Now I have a new body. A stronger soul. I am after revenge.

I look for him, the man who murdered me. As I search, my fingers scan the area beside me for my weapon. My bow and arrow. I might not be able to use it down there. I may not be able to touch them. It might just come in handy, though. It might just.

Better yet, if I get my revenge on this sickly being, then there will be no proof it is me. They think I am dead. Lifeless. They're right. My body is. My humanly body. But I am not. They won't even know what's coming to them.

I grip my bow and arrow tightly, slinging it over my shoulder just as I had done with my school bag that day. I had a scar. Yes, I said that I have a new body. But I still have a reminder of what happened that fateful day. A long scar running from my neck, over my shoulder and all down my arm. All this did was anger me more.

I dived downward, towards my old home.

His time would come.

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