I woke up.
The memories of last night quickly came back into consciousness.
I shot out of bed, realizing I nearly died.
Realizing this my first priority was to draw a deep breath of air, as if it confirmed I was still living and breathing.
I looked at the undamaged entry door and exhaled.
I thought I heard the door breaking, but I guessed it was just a dream.
I slowly got up, and rubbed my eyes. Realizing Raphael was not there as well.
Maybe she was just a dream too.
I got up and changed into my old clothes. They were fairly soiled from my long journey away from my home.
I pulled up my GPS to realize I was much, much farther from home than I could probably ever walk.
I was in a different state. I can't even imagine how I got here.
My mouth was agape in absolute confusion. There just wasn't any way I walked that far.
Looking back on it, in my mood of chaotic emotions, I did many things without really thinking about them.
Then the realization pushed back deep within me. Miguel was gone.

I didn't feel the turmoil, but I felt burnt out and hollow. There just wasn't anything to look forward to anymore.
I sat on the hotel chair staring at the ground for a while, still coming to terms with his forever absence.
I noticed something strange in front of the door to my room.
There was this streak of white dust on the ground curved from the door to nearly the other side of the room.
With no urgency or care I got up and stepped over to it and knelt down.
It looked like powder.
I grabbed some with my fingers to see that the dust... melted when I touched it.
It was iridescent both in powder and fluid form, like a soap bubble.
It must have been some experimental cleaning product the hotel used.

I began go pack up my belongings, and sighed when I reviewed the long walking trip back home.
I wouldn't be able to use a car or public transit for this. I never had a driver's license and my bus pass was missing. My money could only get me halfway. I don't know if I would survive the second half without food.
Resigned, I prepared myself for the long hike back.
I opened the door to see Raphael standing there like she knew the exact moment that I would open the door.

I jumped again and got frustrated.
"What are you still doing here?!"
"I waited."
"Just go somewhere else!"
"I will remain"
I pulled at my face downwards trying to gather my patience.
"I want to be alone right now. Please"
"You would die."
"Maybe I want to die."
"I won't allow that"
Spitefully, I grabbed a nearby pen and motioned to stab myself with it, calling her bluff.
I saw her quickly point her finger at me, before my entire world started spinning and my head became fuzzy.
Then I blacked out for a moment.

I came to my senses realizing I was on the ground, not recalling the fall.
She was standing above me, waiting with her frown on her face.
"Did... Did you do that?"
"Yes."
I stared up at the ceiling, ignoring her presence for a moment.
After stewing some resentful thoughts about her, I suddenly noticed I hadn't been thinking about Miguel while I was upset with her.
Hesitantly, I spoke, "Okay, fine."
I thought I saw some sort of glow quickly flash from her, but her face remained unchanged.
"But you need to answer my questions."
"I'll answer what you can understand," she retorted.

I sat down at the breakfast hall. I had made a plate of food for her, but she made no move to eat any of it.
There was no one around so I had no need to feel self-conscious about looking like I was talking to thin air.
I ate some pancake before starting my interrogation.
"What are you?"
An angel," she said predictably.
"Tell me more details."
"I am ∀∏∃∴⊂ of the 8th legion of Seras," she put frankly.
My brain buzzed out whatever the third word was, but I could piece together that was her real name.
I recoiled for a moment before returning to the questions.
"Explain why you need to protect me."
"You are unique in this world. You are the target of many insidious forces."
"What do these 'forces' want with me?"
"Your presence."
"Presence?"
"To look at them, to hear them, to say their names, gives them power and life."
I lingered on that question for a while.
"Why me?"
"There is only one of you."
"What am I?" I asked, with my anxiety spiking.
She looked around the room, calculating something. My anxiety grew tighter in my chest.
"A perceiver," she said carefully.

I continued despite my growing concern, "Doesn't everyone perceive?"
"Not as you do."
I struggled to swallow my pancakes.
"For your safety, do not ask me questions about who you are." She said with slight command.
"What am I?" I said more seriously.
The air grew heavy, she appeared to irk it out slowly instead of her usual snap responses.
"Look within yourself."

I did so without even understanding what she meant.
I slowly turned my mind's eye inward. I realized the more I looked into my own mind, the deeper it got. Like a hole that never ends, my self slowly transitioned into something that wasn't me at all, I think.
And I knew what was at the bottom of this bottomless hole.
It was terrifying.
It was confusing.
It was nothing.
It was everything.
It was -
It was
It is.
I felt a sting on my face.

She slapped my face, hard.
I pulled myself together as the aftereffects of the slap became stronger than the slap itself.
"Why did you do that?"
"Do not ask that question again."
I was prepping a sassy comeback, but her voice was not one of softness this time. Her eyes usually had that annoying scowl but right now they were full of wrath.
The mechanisms behind those pupils were filled with so much aggression I forgot what I was even thinking about. I was paralyzed like a deer in headlights.
I held my mouth open trying to find something to say, when I heard screeching of rubber and a blasting horn outside.

We both turned to look at a car swerve across another intersecting car. The first swerved and dodged while the second swerved but could not regain its steadiness.
The second car nearly hit the hotel before pulling itself to the other side, where it overcorrected and slammed into a nearby bakery.
A third car came within sight and swerved around the bakery-crashed car before spinning onto the intersection, before a fourth and fifth collided into it.
I couldn't stop watching the catastrophe in front of me.
"It knows you're here."

I felt Raphael grip my hand before dragging me away from the scene and into the next room where there was a less visible shot to the carnage that was still sounding out metal crashing against metal.
I couldn't stop thinking about how many cars had crashed at this point, because it just wouldn't stop.
Raphael appeared to tear cloth off of the curtains and had already wrapped it around my eyes, tying it into a blindfold.
"Don't remove it or you'll die."
I listened to her. I kept listening to the sounds of crashing. I thought I heard screaming too.
She then quickly inserted cloth into my ears as well. She somehow knew the perfect way to plug an eardrum because all I could hear was the hum of my own mind.
Confusion set in.
"Wha-" the moment I opened my mouth she also wrapped cloth around it as well.
My confusion and sense of obscenity only grew stronger.
Then I felt a tapping on my forearm.
Her fingers were tapping into it, three at a time. It was like one finger spoke Morse code, another spoke in on-and-offs, and another spoke in rhythm.

I don't know how she did it, but through these tappings, I could understand the communication.

"D a n g e r i s p r e s e n t"

"D o n o t t h i n k a b o u t t h e c a r s"

"I w i l l l e a d y o u t o s a f e t y"

"T h i n k o f s o m e t h i n g b e a u t i f u l"

I then felt my hand pulled like a prompt to stand up.
I was slowly guided. Her hand was icy cold. My feet stumbled from carpet to concrete and I felt the rush of wind. We must have been outside now.
I couldn't see, hear, or speak, but I could feel the ground rumbling. And sometimes I could hear the loud impacts and the particularly high pitched screams.
My mind kept roaming to what could be out there. Was it really just cars crashing?
She pulled me forward faster. My heart was racing because I knew I was in the middle of the carnage. I couldn't sense it but I knew it.
She suddenly stopped as I felt a large gust of wind woosh across my body. I couldn't help but think a car just flew past us.
I kept thinking, "I'm going to die."
And the more I thought, the more I paid attention to the cues of violence around me, the worse it got.
Then Raphael made the situation worse by tapping, "K e e p w a l k i n g".
She let go of my hand, leaving myself deaf, blind and dumb.

Should I even trust her?
I slowly and very hesitantly took a step forward.
My foot landed on stable ground.
I slowly began another step before I heard a car horn blare through the earplugs and whizz past me before crashing into another obstacle.
My body locked in place. I felt like if I moved anymore, I would become the target of another swerving car.
"Think of something beautiful," I said in my mind.
I tried to steady my inhale as I took a deep breath.

I'm at my home. It's run down like it always was.
I wasn't allowed back into the house today.
But I have my marbles with me. I have cat's eye, solid colors, speckled, striped.
I go to an area in the porch where I've lightly etched a circle into the wood. It is also the piece of the porch that is the flattest.
I scatter the marbles and let them fall where they may, only correcting ones that have left the circle.
And I save one. It's my special marble. I'm not sure what kind of marble it was supposed to be, but it had a crack in it.
The crack etched through the center, causing some strange sight within the center of it. Like a tiny shimmering explosion frozen in time.
I line up my special marble and send it flying towards another. It hits a small one which then collides into a large one.
A score of Two.

I took two steps forward.
I heard something crash right behind me.

I carefully pluck out my special marble and position it from the outside again.
I notice it's raining now.
The roof of the porch protects me, but the light buzzy drone of a humble downpour is soothing.
I shoot the marble, a full miss.

I felt searing heat blaze in front of me for a moment. It sounded like a guttural roar through the earplugs.

I spend some time leaning over the porch trying to get it out of the mud.
As I grab it, I see someone sitting against the neighbor's wall.
The neighbors don't have a porch. He's sitting there with a raincoat letting the rain hit him.
I zip up my own coat and make my way to him. He notices my presence and looks up at me.
I remember his face looked very tired.
I tell him to come play marbles with me.
He seems like he doesn't want to talk but the rain isn't nice.
I annoyingly tell him to come play.
Without waiting any longer I grab his raincoat and yank him to the porch. He protests but eventually shuts up once he's under the porch.
As a demonstration, I shoot my marble. 1 point.

One step.

I put the marble on his side now.
He slowly lines up his thumb to the marble and flicks it.
One after another the marbles clack and ring out.
"15 points..." I mutter.

I broke into a sprint, pushing my muscles on all fronts.
I ran like I wouldn't ever trip.
More cars swerved around me. I thought I felt the ground give way below my feet for a couple steps.
I counted in my head... 13... 14... 15...
Then I stopped.

I ask how he did that.
He says he doesn't know.
I pour my entire bag onto the ground.
The rain has gotten heavier, but even then this kid seems to have a smile on his face. Maybe I did a good thing.
I skip my turn to let him go again. I watch him launch the special marble and see it hit two marbles at the same time, which in turn hit others until nearly all of them have collide in this cascading clacking noise.
It is the coolest thing I've seen in my life.
I count them all. 44 points.

I forgot about tripping. I dug my toes in the ground and broke for a strong sprint. Counting each step up to 44. I could feel searing heat fly past me. My foot nearly sprained on what was a broken piece of concrete.
But I kept going. I ran until exactly 44 steps were made. Then I stopped.
And I could feel the pressure within me release. I believed the disaster was far enough from me.

I ask him why couldn't he hit all the marbles.
He points to a marble and says to move that one.
I pick it up and he points to where to position it.
We repeat this for about 4 other marbles.
Then he gets a determined look on his face. He winds up his finger and looks straight down the line.
He doesn't have an ounce of insecurity in his thoughts, only in the control of his hand, trying to keep steady.
And with a flick, all the marbles shift and clack together. The chaos of movement somehow organized into a pattern of simple paths, as all of the marbles have just enough speed to leave the circle.
All of them except the special marble, which remains in the very center.
76 points.

I looked up the sky even though I'm blindfolded. I didn't even notice it was raining again.
My blindfold was already wet.
I just started walking. I did not count to 76.
After it felt like long enough I stood still, took off the blindfold, the gag and the earplugs and stared at the gray clouds.
I sat next to a knotted tree that gave half-shelter from the rain.
I refused to look back at the intersection. I just looked at the dry dirt slowly turn into mud
After some time Raphael came up and stood next to me.
It took some time before she seemed to understand that I wouldn't be acknowledging her presence.
So she sat down next to me, forming her strange cone silhouette.

"Where do people go when they die?"
She took a moment to respond. It felt like she knew exactly what the answer was. Rather she was calculating how to tell it to me.
"You are like fire."
I stood silent.
"You die like a fire dies."
"Then where does a fire go when it dies?"
"Its warmth and heat go to those near it."
"And the atoms?"
"It never was what made the fire."
"And the fire, itself?"
"It rests."
I couldn't help but be unsatisfied with this answer.

"Is there an afterlife?"
"There is both nothing and everything."
"You're never going to give me a good answer, are you?"
"Your concern lies with your friend."
I push down the twisting feeling.
"Yes." My voice came out dry.
"He went wherever his desires laid at death."

I rationalized as best as I could. The idea that your death depends on the very moment you died.
"You don't know enough to understand the depths of death, Jonah."
"Please just tell me."
"I will once you understand time."
"I know what time is."
"You don't know what time means to yourself."
"Doesn't time just keep moving forward? Isn't everyone moving forward?"
"No, in your heavens exist portals that can slow down time, and turn it into different directions."
"What does this have to do with death?"
"They are portals from which you never return."

I tried to comprehend it. If it meant knowing where Miguel went I would try. But I couldn't.
"So Miguel is moving to the 'right' in time?"
"You are not able to know with your current knowledge where your friend is."
I sighed in frustration and defeat.
"Is Miguel okay right now?"
"Most become 'okay' in time- in their time."

It would be the best answer I could get out of her right now.
I finally turned to her. She was sitting next to me without her usual fierce face. Those eyes were tired eyes, but still full of depth.
I noticed a trail of white dust from the smoldering wreckage behind us leading up to where she sat.
She turned to me to see me looking at the trail of iridescent powder.
She answered the question I was going to ask, "It is my blood."
Some other things made sense now.

After pondering what happened, numbingly thinking about all the people that just probably died, I asked, "Are you afraid of dying?"
She held her response for a while, her eyes shifting through memories it seemed.
"Im afraid. Not of death, but of leaving."
Silence hung in the air, I did not respond.
"I am the only angel left."