No More

The Backstory

  Here's how it all began, the war of demons verses angels. Most of you probably know that God kicked Lucifer out of heaven for trying to over power him. That's not completely true, but it has some truth to it. Lucifer wanted God to see how much more better the angels were than the humans, but God believed otherwise. He believed the humans were good and could help make the world better.

       Out of anger, Lucifer attacked God. God punished him by clipping his angel wings and replacing them with broken ones, ones that were torn to shreds and ripped. He took Lucifer and he dragged him to the end of heaven, dangling him over the edge before he banished him from ever returning. Since Lucifer was his first ever child, he didn't kill him or harm him in any way, just let him drop and go to what you might call Hell. 

       Lucifer stayed down there and a few of the angels he had gotten to follow him against God were down there with him. He plotted against God even more and made demons; creatures that shared the hate he had and would fight for him. He trained them and gave them wings like his, only new and usable. He made them so they would never break and he sent those demons to earth, to kill what God had created. To save the humans, God sent some of his angels down to fight the demons. 

       One night, God came down to earth himself and he did meet a girl named Mary. He did impregnate her and that's where Jesus was born. God talked to Jesus and told him what he must do, so after Jesus was crucified, he used those three days to go and fight Lucifer, but he didn't kill him. He made him more battered and bruised than he already was, but that only made Lucifer angrier. He swore to God that one day, he would rule the earth and let his demons roam free to do whatever they please. God, ignoring that threat, sent more angels down to protect earth however they could.

       There are many stories out there about how this all came to be, but only the angels and demons know the real reason why they were fighting.

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       "Why must we fight?" ten year old Harry asked his teacher. He was sitting at his desk, with his head tilted to the side, with no other student in the room. He had big, green eyes that were filled with innocence that made everyone smile. He had the curliest, brown hair that bounced when he walked and the smallest dimple on his right cheek that showed whenever he talked or smiled, but he never did that much anymore. "Why do we fight?" He was a curious boy.

       The teacher smiled at him and got up, walking over to the desk and bending down in front of Harry. "You are not yet old enough to be told, Harold." The teacher smiled at him with the warmest brown eyes, and he had white hair that shone when the light hit it right. "You must earn your wings before, and you are a long way from that." Most of the other kids had already gotten their wings, and Harry was the only one left behind because he didn't have an ounce of violence in him. He pouted and looked down at his desk, his eyes getting watery. The teacher sighed and stood up, taking Harry's hand. "Come with me," he said, pulling Harry out of the desk and towards the door. Harry got out of his seat and kept his head down, not looking up until he was stopped in front of a window. "Soon, you'll be out there with the others. It just takes time, but I promise you will get there." Harry looked up at him with hopeful eyes.

       He looked back out the window and smiled when he imagined himself out there, flying with the others. "Really, Mr. Jones?" he asked, looking up at him. He bit his lip and saw himself with beautiful white wings, flying gracefully through the clouds. "Can you please tell me why we fight?" he asked. He felt he needed to know before he got his wings, so he might have a reason to fight back. He saw his teacher sigh and felt his hand drop out of his grip. He put his hand to the side and watched as his teacher turned away from him and left. Harry's bottom lip trembled and he walked the opposite way, not sure where he was going. He wasn't allowed to leave the school, not without wings, and he knew that he might never get them. Was it so bad that somebody without wings couldn't be told, that someone who wasn't yet a true angel was not aloud to know.