• The moon was unusually pale that night, shining less like the goddess she was. She was grieving, gathering clouds to her side, piling them up to cover her stricken face. Her tears fell one by one, sparkling like the stars that people mistook as meteors. Perhaps she had already seen into the future, the future of her forsaken son, Nathaniel. He fell onto Earth, pale as moonlight with raven hair and light gray eyes, his wings spread into its full majesty. His eyes, colored like the stormy sea burned with fire. He had purpose and he was here to fulfill it. Why would he be here otherwise?

    His bare feet touched the harsh roughness of the building rooftop’s edge. His wings fluttered slightly as the cold wind brushed past. He exhaled cold air and shivered. Tiny lights blinked and winked below as lowly mortals went on with their unimportant lives. He was high up and it was beautiful. But still, the world looked different from heaven than it did from 100 meters off the ground. His purpose was nearing. He could feel it.

    Crash!

    “Help me! Help me!”

    A young boy crashed out of the door into the roof. He was here and Nathaniel’s pale eyes widened. His scent intoxicated him. His purpose had come. It played out perfectly, just like what had been foretold. A woman, dark and lethal followed him out of the loud metal door, chasing him. They were nearing the edge. The boy was screaming at the top of his lungs, unable to accept that no one else was there to hear him, that the only one who could hear was powerless to help. His eyes sparkled with tears and a gasp of pain left his lips as he slammed into the air vent. He stumbled and fell only a few inches from where Nathaniel stood.

    Nathaniel stared into the boy’s bright blue eyes. The boy looked up into his. Nathaniel blinked. Was the boy staring at him? He shook his head and smiled bitterly to himself. Angels cannot be seen. But, why? The boy’s gaze was unnerving. He was looking as if he was seeing.

    “Save me,” came the soft whisper. Nathaniel gasped.

    Bang!

    The bullet left the gangstress’ gun suddenly and penetrated into the soft, childish skin of the boy’s back, piercing the boy’s vertebrae. He choked, tasting blood, stumbling onto the edge. Nathaniel opened his arms and embraced the fragile boy, blood staining his perfect whiteness. This was his purpose. In one instantaneous moment of prolonged suffering, they fell into the night, into the unsuspecting, blinking, winking lights of the mundane city below. He stroked the boy’s cheek and kissed his blonde locks lightly.

    In approximately 4.517 seconds, Nathaniel’s wings bled as the impact against cement crushed his delicate body. His purpose had been fulfilled. The young boy smiled, blood dripping from the edge of his lips.

    “Th-thank you.”

    And so, the angel sacrificed himself to comfort the innocent young boy during his death. That was his purpose. Love. And the moon wept for both of them, showering the world with a million star-like tears through her barricade of clouds and pale mist.