War Of The Angels And The Fallen

• Izaiah Webber, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2021

Throughout my life on earth, I have had this ongoing thought about my existence. As to whether all of my life is one massive dream. A dream that one day I am destined to awake from and enter the real world. The world where Heaven and Hell are real places that I will choose to spend the entirety of my new life. A situation that will determine whether I am considered good or evil. As I sit here and write this, I pray that the day I awake and make my decision doesn’t come for many more years…

The day I awoke from my long 17-year long slumber was one to remember. The final moments I spent on earth were horrific. Trapped in the back seat of the family car. My parents struggling to open the car door to get me out. My consciousness slowly disappearing. My parents cry a faint whisper as I drowned, trapped in the car that was slowly sinking into the big blue sea.
I awoke lying on the cold hard floor. There was no sign of the car or my parents. The sea had vanished with the cries from those I loved. I slowly rose from my spot on the floor. I took in my surroundings.
I was sitting on what seemed to be a slab of stone-cold grey concrete. The walls around me also seemed like slabs of concrete. There was no door or windows and there was no visible light source, just a weird glow that seemed to be coming from me. I wasn’t too surprised that I was softly glowing. I don’t think anything could surprise me anymore like for goodness sake I just died, that’s enough to surprise anyone for at least 10 years.

Suddenly I heard footsteps coming off from my left. I jumped up from my spot on the floor and faced the way the footsteps had come from.
“Oh, no need to worry young one. Sorry if I frightened you.”
The voice came from an old woman who was about 4 feet tall. She was carrying a lantern that emitted a bright light that I had to shield with my hands.
“Oh sorry, I’ll turn that down for you hey?”
I slowly put my hands down as the woman turned the brightness down on the lantern. “Sorry, but who are you, and what is this excuse for a place?”, I asked.
The old woman looked at me expectantly,
“Well this is the sacred Room of Decisions and I am Af, Angel of light.”
“So that explains the bright lantern then”, Af chuckled,
“I suppose it does, doesn’t it?”
“What am I doing here?”
“Well you died and everybody goes somewhere when they die.”
“But why am I in the Room of Decisions?”
“Well, you have to choose who you are willing to side with when the war on the Angels and the Fallen begins.”
“A war?”
“Yes, child, a war and your heavens last hope of winning.”