I had fallen years ago, thrust into the darkness due to what many considered a copious amount of pride.

As a never-ending night consumed me I felt a sharp loneliness swallow me whole, but I was alone, no one nearby to comfort me.

For a long time I felt as though I was floating, suspended in that dark space.

I felt as though I would never open my eyes to the beauty of awareness that only my sight could provide.

I couldn’t even be sure I was opening my eyes.

But eventually I came to realize that the earth below me was in fact flying toward me at a breakneck pace, or rather, I was flying toward it.

My screams were wrenched away by the wind, and my limbs were useless in their struggle against the fall.

As the ground raced toward me I was filled with abrupt anger, a shock of betrayal turning my heart from the man, no God, who had once formed my now ravaged body.

This is going to hurt, I think anxiously, and it did.

I crashed through Earth’s crust with a screech, whimpering when I finally came to a stop in front of an office simply labeled “Diaboli.”

A shiver ran up my spine before I got up, wincing at the pain running across my back as I dusted myself off and, holding my head high, marched toward the door to seal my chosen fate.

***

“This is your last chance,” my advisor, Abbadon, growls.

I scowl up at him, folding my arms before simply stating, “Fine,” and turning back toward Earth.

“I mean it!” he snaps behind me, and I wave over my shoulder hotheadedly.

How dare he, I fume before transporting back to my small flat in Manhattan. The sound of bustling streets and angry patrons fills the room and I sigh, the sound a melody to my ears.

I have to get back out there tonight.

I had chosen to leave Heaven, and now I might be kicked out of hell!

I soon rush out of my apartment and head straight for the local High School, throwing charms at civilians as I go, and scowling as they do the opposite of what I had wished.

I tried to make a young woman check out some man’s butt, but she ends up telling him he has a tear in his jeans instead.

A young boy splashes in a puddle, which ends up showering a dog that had been overheating in the sun.

I groan, knowing each of the actions are going into the books down below.

“Hey mister!” A girl rushes across the street for me to grab my shirt, and when I yank my arm away it throws her off balance, causing her to stumble right out of the path of an oncoming car.

I can’t do this, I think miserably, finally finding a corner in an old alleyway and leaning back against the old brick wall.

Had I made the wrong choice?