There IS a Light to Heaven

April 13th, 2018, 11:00 AM - 930 Angeles Boone Lane - Charlotte, North Carolina

“My name is Heaven Matthews; that’s the name I was given at first, at least…Cringe, I know. What self-respecting Catholic parents would name their only daughter after the literal embodiment of ‘Peace on Earth, goodwill toward Man’ and all that crap? They must’ve thought I was special as a baby - not that I blame them. Even still, though, it takes a certain breed of projection to make their daughter’s name so heavily tied back to the so-called sacred text of Christianity. Didn’t you notice my last name after all? Shocker, I know…Though to be honest, I might sound stiff - maybe a bit annoyed - but honestly, I don’t mind the name; this was my life, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Besides, what good would it be to gain the whole world…but forfeit yourself?... Remember I said that. Trust me, you’ll be quizzed eventually.”

It was a day like any other. It was 8:00 am in the blue-wreathed walls around me, and by the bedside was Opie, the family's black Labrador Retriever. Between the seductive aroma of bacon and eggs just across the hall, and the loud, almost obnoxious screaming of my little brother Malacai’s stupid game system right next door - nothing but hollow, paper-thin walls isolating me from either sensation - I could only focus on one thing: the stars swirling above my head from last night’s secret get together with friends outside of church. Emphasis on the ‘outside’ part of that statement. It felt like I was dying, but I still didn’t see any light at the end of this tunnel, even if I was trying to.

“Urrrgghhh…Five more minutes, gosh…” I said with a heave, practically wretching from just turning to my side as I slammed my hand on the top of my alarm clock, striking with enough force to break it apart, or at least that’s what I hoped at the time. Again, my head was spinning with a hangover meant to be kept secret. “O-Oh, my poor whittle head…O-Okay, next time I wanna sneak out, maybe go easy on the sake next time-ouch…’Go hang out with us,’ she said. ‘It’ll be fun,’ she said. Gosh, I should’ve just stayed in like a good girl…E-Even if I would’ve felt left out.”

“Sis! Stop mumbling to yourself and come get breakfast!”

“Ah! Malachi, buzz off! I’m uhh getting dressed!”

“You’ve been ‘getting dressed’ for more than an hour! Even for old bats like you, it doesn’t take that much makeup to get ready for the most important meal of the day, now come on! I’m starving and you know how dad gets!”

“O-Oh, fine, just stop shouting! You’re giving me a freakin’ headache…Alright, alright, jeez. Just gimme like ten minutes! I’ll be out soon.”

Right. I almost forgot. Pretty much any time there was a fresh, home-cooked meal made with all the love and attention a girl could ask for, you must always honor the cook - in this case, my dad - with your presence at the table. They say it’s proper manners, which, sure, I don’t doubt that’s the case, to be honest. But if you ask me? I think this is more about my parents being afraid of me starting college in about…Wait…Five hours?!

“Oh no, I slept through my alarm!”

Yeah, you heard it here first, ladies and gentlemen! Heaven Matthews, 24-year-old extraordinaire, got accepted to one of the most prestigious schools in the world. The prize? A doctorate in psychology. And that super secret party I snuck out for? That was my initiation to the girls’ club there - I think they all like me! But enough about that; my focus was on in that moment was getting myself as ready for the coming day as I possibly could. I dashed to the table after finally getting dressed in my uniform form on, and after a quick few minutes of conversing about my day with my parents and little brother, and the occasional playful jab at each other, I took one last piece of toast and set off on the next exciting phase of my life - onward to Olympia Mills Tech!... At least, that’s how it felt at the time.

While we were on the road, I couldn’t help but feel more than a little homesick; this was going to be my life for the next few years of my life, and tuition, housing, and so on - everything was a free ride for my psychiatry degree. I didn’t have any reason to phone home. I didn’t have an excuse beyond just simple phone calls…I wasn’t gonna be alone, sure, but…it was still so new. The tears streaming from my face, cold and frail like me, were proof enough, and I knew I just had to embrace them for what seemed like my final time…

“Y-You alright there, kiddo?” my dad said.

“Ohh, honey, you’ll do just fine. We’re not going anywhere,” said my mom, picking up on my current emotional state one-fifth of a second faster than my dad, “And God is always present in your life - never forget that.”

I smiled as cheerfully as I could and just nodded in agreement with a simple “Hmph.”
I admit, hearing her suddenly bring God into the sentimental moment almost killed my mood immediately; I know she means well, otherwise she wouldn’t have reminded me in the first place, but I only play church because I know it makes them happy. This college isn’t about fellowship or getting into that Heaven when I die, it’s because Olympia Mills having an incredible accelerator program for students: anyone who qualifies by their senior year can travel abroad for a 4-month course; pass the course, and that’s an easy ticket to a full-time doctorate-level position that’ll leave me more than fortunate! Weirdly, yeah, I’d be super blessed by God if that could happen, but he’s not my reason at all for being here. He shouldn’t mind, though, right? As I thought about this, reality hit me. Reality hit us. From around the corner turned a large white pickup truck, the horn blaring like the signal of an air raid - everyone in the car, myself included, panicked and screamed as dad swerved the car. But nothing came of it. We lost control, and one thing led to another from there.

The last thing I remembered from that moment was praying my hardest that we live, before what remained of my consciousness - my life force - was extinguished entirely. Ironically, because of the truck’s headlights, I could see it then: a light at the end of the tunnel…

Eternity must’ve passed, I could almost swear it. The digits of my fingers wobbled and flailed, and my neck felt loose. I opened my eyes, expecting to see life-threatening injuries or hear the sound of firetrucks and paramedics scampering like headless chickens, or even any sign of my dead family; instead, I saw the very opposite. Looking down at me was a silk-white goddess in what I could only assume was some kinda castle, surrounded by these other women, not one man in sight. I could only feel soft paws for hands caressing my whole body, firmly but kindly, planting my full body close to her bosom. My eyes - now big, bright orbs of a deep crimson hue - simply gazed upon this breathtaking woman in childish silence.

“Congratulations, my queen,” whispered one of the other women, “It’s a healthy baby girl; you, King Enoch, and all of Yamo have an heir now.”

****

“They say that freedom is the right of all sentient beings. At least, that’s the ideal saying, right? - If it can breathe, walk on twos or fours, if it has a gender identification, even if it’s capable of thought, then freedom, justice, and stability are its rights, be it man or animal...Altruistic, sure, and yes, it’s nice to think about, but, controversial hot take: I don’t believe any of those lies. I don’t believe that, because they say that when put in danger, humans suddenly begin to ‘say what they really mean.’ What’s worse is that every time I feast, I always lose track of this line of thinking, simply because at the sight of blood…I cannot be bothered to restrain my hunger…You’ll find out what I mean by that in due time. For now, it’d be better if I just start from scratch; this is how I was born - how I was REBORN, and became the best version of myself. This is how I died in Heaven Matthews, and was reborn in the hellish world of Archangels, AS an Archangel, thanks to that light in a tunnel.”