I Dream of Angels

Walking, walking down this long white hall, when will it ever end? All I am aware of, the faint hum of sweet melody. I continue walking, passing white windows, white counters, white walls, and white doors.

I have to go in one of those I think, but none of them are… right.

I must have passed at least one hundred white doors, and there… That one. It looks like all the rest; plain and white, yet it seemed to be calling out to me. I put my hand on the doorknob. It feels warm. I turn it slowly and push in. I walk to just inside the door, and let it slam behind me. I feel warm. I hear the faint sound of water running, replacing the sweet melody I had been accompanied by before. Suddenly I don’t want to move. I feel safe in this place…

“Jana, come to us. Come to us now…” Sweet whispers of a voice beckon me. I have to obey. I follow the voices and am lead into a huge room. I look around. I am surrounded by hundreds of shower stalls. No curtains, all white. In each small shower stall stood a beautiful angel. Clean white hair, white robe, and beautiful white wings spread out from behind her. Water was pouring from the showerheads down onto the angels, yet they did not get wet.

Not only did each shower stall hold an angel, it was the same angel in each one. Same beautiful face, same beautiful aura surrounding her. They all smile at me. Wait, there’s one different. I look at her and she speaks:

“Welcome, my child.”

“What is this?” I ask.

“This is your home, my child.”

I felt the impulse to enter into one of the shower stalls.

“No you must wait until the others clean off their coats…”

Coats? They weren’t wearing coats… And they weren’t getting wet…? The angel swept her hand from one end of the room to the other, seemingly removing a clear blanket of deceit. I focused my eyes to the shower stalls. Each angel was now drenched, their hair stringy and ratty. Each had a different color hair; each had a different, distinct face.

“Oh my god…” I mumbled. I watched as the water poured slowly down their blood-covered trench coats. It didn’t look like the water was helping any. I hear the head angel laugh a wicked laugh. I look to her. Blood dripping from her teeth, her halo, her black wings. She holds out her hand to me; I look down. I cringe as I see where her hand used to be, now just a bloody stump with strips of skin dangling down.

“Step into the water, my child.” I look back at the other angels. I gasped. They were all holding their heads, trying to rip out their matted hair, shaking their heads violently back and forth, back and forth, pounding on imaginary shower doors. Screams. Loud piercing screams…

I let out a frightened wail and run out of the huge room, back the way I came. I clutch the handle of the door, feeling something sticky, wet, and warm. I retract my hand and look at it. Covered in blood. I cringe again and open the door anyway. The once-white walls were now blood-red, and seemed to be screaming in agony at me. I sprint down the red hall, passing blood-red windows, blood-red counters, blood-red walls, and blood-red doors. Down, down I run the hall until finally, I approach the exit. I reach for the bloody handle. As I grip it, dark blades slice out from the handle, sending bloody chunks of my skin flying through the air. I scream and clutch my stump of a hand.

“We can help you, my child.” I turn around and see hundreds of angels staring at me. Each was standing in a pool of blood, probably from the blood that was dripping down their trench coats. I observe each of the angels. I notice something different… One hand of each angel was a bloody stump, just as mine now was. I feel sick…

“We all did it, my child. Come with us. Help us.”

I want to follow them. Some unknown force is pulling me towards them. My feet start to move. Slowly, I advance, and the angels all reach out the hand they have left, and I grasp the head angel’s hand. I feel so safe and warm now. I did not mind the blood that was covering my hand from the angel’s. I could barely smell the putrid smell of death among them. I could barely notice the rips of skin in their faces, revealing blood and bone. I felt so safe.

They all lead me down the hall, back into the same room as I had been before. They strip my clothes from me. As I stand there naked, looking to my right and my left, I still feel safe. The angels hand me black clothing and a black trench coat, as they all were wearing. I slip dreamily into the clothes and coat. The head angel speaks:

“Now, my children, back into your stalls! Quickly, quickly, before she sees you!” All of the angels scurried to their places. There. An empty stall. I run to it, careful as not to slip in the puddles of blood on the tiled floor. The head angel waved her hand around the room. I look down. Clean white robe, beautiful white wings behind me. I touch my hair. Soft, white, feathery. Liquid began to pour out of the showerheads. Just water… but I could not feel it. I smiled.

“Quiet, now! She has arrived!” The head angel yelled. And suddenly my head was invaded with a picture of a little girl, her hand on the doorknob to this room. I couldn’t see her face. She paused, then continued to open it. She tiptoed steps toward the beautiful melody the head angel was singing. And the angel spoke:

“Michelle, come to us. Come to us now…” Michelle? Michelle appeared from behind a white wall and I gasped. No! I leaped from my shower stall and ran full speed at the head angel. Down, down we went, and as the head angel hit the floor, that clear blanket of deceit was lifted, and we were all returned to our normal state. Michelle screamed and stood there in shock. Too young, too young. Not my Michelle. The angel put her hands around my throat.

“How dare you put your hands on me, child! Be gone!” The angel squeezed harder. I could barely breathe. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Michelle had snapped out of her hypnosis, and realized who the angel was strangling.

“JANA!!! NO!!” She ran to me and began smacking at the angel. The angel let go of me long enough to backhand Michelle out of her way, but that was long enough. As the head angel was knocked to the floor, her concentration was broken, and the other angels had been freed of their mental leash. They were now beginning to step out of their stalls, looking around, wondering where they were, and frightened at the scene they were met with.

“Hey! Help me!!” I pointed to the head angel. “She kept you all here! Look at your hand! She did that! She is evil! Help me destroy her!! And help me save my sister!!” I run full speed at the head angel, who was beginning to recompose herself. That could not happen. I crash into her and down, down we fall, splattering blood across the walls as we make contact with the bloody floor. I could hear the cries of Michelle and fought harder, tearing at her skin, at her eyes. And soon the other angels began moving toward us. One helped me up and shoved me toward my sister. “Go,” she spoke. I nodded and picked up my sister. I looked back to see hundreds of angels in a bloody heap, struggling and fighting one angel. One flew across the room and hit the wall with a sickening splat. I turned and ran to the door with Michelle in my arms. Have to get out of here. Down I ran through the halls, still blood red. As were the windows, counters, and doors, also.

It seemed as if I had been running for hours, when suddenly the blood of the walls dripped their last drip, the windows were repainted white, and the doors flashed a brilliant white. The blood-covered floor returned to it’s usual white tile, and a picture flashed into my head. The head angel had been destroyed. Ripped to sheds by hundreds of angry angels. She was no more. I felt a wave of relief pass over me. I see the exit. I look at the handle of the door. I stop before it, Michelle still in my arms. I close my eyes and reach out with my good hand to grasp the doorknob. Cold. Waiting for pain… but none came. I opened my eyes, relieved to see my hand still intact. I turned the doorknob and threw it open, splashing brilliant sunlight into the hall. I look back and see hundreds of angels running towards me. Only now they weren’t angels. They were normal people. Freed from their curse. As they neared, I recognized a few. My best friend Sam was among them. I set Michelle down and ran to him, embracing him in a hug.

“Thank you, Jana.” He kissed me, long and soft. Then he went over to Michelle, spoke a few words into her ear, and nodding, she grasped Sam’s hand. I walked over to them, and Sam grasped my other hand. We walked out the door, with hundreds of others following.

“Let’s go home,” Sam whispered. And into the light, we began our journey home.