Each second of stillness was brutal, my quiet whimpers and sobs only adding to my aching misery. My body hurt, my heart bled, and my mind was shattered while reminiscing about the times when my parents loved me.
The days when Nephilims walked with pride and joy through their very lands of orange and gold trees and skies of rich blues, purples, and greens; the beautiful sight of our community growing by the numbers.
I missed the laughter of my friends, the other kids of my kind, dancing and singing around the bonfires as our families cooked feasts once a week to commemorate our successes.
I craved those peaceful nights, when my back would lay upon the softest bundles of feathers and cotton blankets that shielded me from the cold and not from the sight of our enemies.
My life before we were hunted animals was what I begged to return to as my life began to slip away.
What was the point of living now? The world had seemingly forsaken me, and I was now left to perish on her soil that was used to grow life.
The thought of death scared me. Taking my final inhales and exhales while my body grew colder and colder. I wondered what would be waiting for me way up in the sky, where our elders and wise men and woman would speak of the heavens that would open their gates, even to our kind.
Would that place deliver a world of peace? A safe haven for children like me to play, eat, and enjoy newfound life? Would the ruler of that land accept me?
A wingless Nephilim like me?
The thoughts were as many as my questions that multiplied with every second that passed. When my consciousness finally began to drift for good, I tried my best to be calm.
Even with the trickling fear that I'd become so accustomed to, I urged myself to realize the blessing all of this had delivered. Soon, the gold shackles that have kept me captive in my nightmares would burst free, and I wouldn't need to run anymore.
No more sleeping on the rough ground or racing through the forest in a panic whenever my parents sensed our enemies.
I'd received the freedom I'd been desperately craving.
Why did I feel sad?
Was it because I was only ten? Or the fact that my dreams never became true? It could have been the loss of my wings. Or the rejection of my parents. Or even the thought of dying alone.
So many whys, and none of them resonated with me strong enough to make sense. None gave me the closure I needed to accept the clutches of death and ascend towards a new world that awaited me.
A world of peace. Would I enjoy such a realm?
My mind wavered while droplets began to drop on my cheek. The droplets grew in quantity, and I wondered if it was now raining. The chill cold of the wet drops that hit my body without a bit of remorse only seemed to ease any bit of pain left within me.
My body was now a numb carcass, leaving me to feel like any other animal that sadly died in the wild. I expected my extremely slow breaths to finally come to a halt, as my senses faded away and I couldn't feel the numb prickling feeling of my hands and feet.
All I was waiting for was death to take me away from my misery. My patience would surely be rewarded one day, when I arrived at the golden gates of heaven.
When something seemed to nudge me, I thought I imagined it. Suddenly, it happened again, a strong nudge that made my face lift slightly from the soil that surely cloaked one side of my face.
My head dropped back to the ground merely felt like a light tap with how numb my body was currently. I wished to open my eyes or try and wake up so I could see who disturbed my approaching death.
I wanted to die in peace. To let all my memories fade away, and to walk into the open gates of heaven with a new mindset.
No more relying on people. No more depending on the fact that I'm someone's responsibility.
If I survived this somehow, I'd fight long and hard to become an independent force that the world wouldn't mess with. To fight through the ranks, stand above it all, and show that I was the one who deserved the rightful status of the throne my father had been shaping for many years
The idea of them just moving on left a sick feeling in my stomach, but it faded just as fast because of how calm I suddenly felt. Even with whatever was sniffing me, I couldn't be more relaxed.
Dying was easier to accept now. As was leaving behind the life I wished to enjoy just a little longer. I wondered what it was like to be an adult. To make decisions on my own and to obtain freedom in my own way.
No need to rely on other people. To reclaim what was rightfully mine with my own two hands.
If I perished here and now, would I get to see the end of the wickedness? To see the end of my parents who threw me away? Those who stole my feathers of dark joy.
Or would my memory fade away?
It pained me that I couldn't allow my mind to fall to a quiet slumber, as more fears and questions resonated through me.
My sense of smell had already faded, but my ears were still sharp as they picked up the loud howl that seemed to come from above me. There were sounds of something being snapped, multiple noises that reminded me of stepping on a twig that broke into two.
A growl before a tsk echoed around me, and the low voice only added to the growing mystery of what was happening around me.
"Pathetic fools. How dare they leave their child to wither here?"
The voice was low and deep, reminding me of how Father talked on a daily basis. There was surely a man in my presence, but why was anyone here?
Why would he even care to stop and stare at my broken body?
I felt humiliated - a weird sensation to feel at this time and moment. I had done nothing wrong to reward me with immense shame. Venturing into the woods and sleeping in a tree didn't deserve this ending.
Stolen wings, shredded clothes, a pool of blood, and a broken soul.
Something hot touched me. I wasn't sure exactly where. I was surprised I felt it when my body had become a numb statue.
The heat continued, and it helped rid the negative thoughts that continued to fight through the darkness to consume my last moments of life.
"Do you wish to live?"
The question came from above. This had to be one of the questions asked before you went up for judgment. The voice was powerful and deep, so he could have been that Savior our angelic counterparts praised.
Was he here to ease my transition? The thought was comforting as I took in his question. It should have been an easy one, like when Mother tested me on all the content I'd spent hours studying.
The answer was obvious, but I hesitated.
Do I want to live? Do I deserve to? I'd be an outcast. Broken. Alone. Would there be any point to live in such conditions?
"What if I told you I'd help you?" the voice questioned. "That you'd be able to see the end of those who were supposed to raise and protect you? Would you consider another shot at life?"
His words should have been difficult to decipher, but it was so easy to understand as I took it all in.
See the end result of those who abandoned me.
To have someone's aid would ease the scariness of surviving. I knew nothing about who this individual was, if it even was a person, but would it be worth it? To live and prove to the world my worth?
"Let me help you."
The voice sounded as though he did want justice for me. I was worthy of living another day, even though I was no longer a valuable asset to those who raised me.
Loss is what ignites change. Transformation invokes renewed satisfaction. Let those who gave up on you see the true birth of their destruction.