The Sins of Story: Memoirs of an Angel

2; A Life of Substance

Like I'm standing here right now hovering over Burke Patton's vulnerable body, I'd done the same for Stevie Gordon, except that time, I was at her funeral. I looked out at the crowd and saw more children than adults mourning her death, but that was only because she'd dedicated most of her life to caring for unwanted children. It was the only way she knew how to repair her own fractured childhood, by giving love and attention to so many children who needed it.

So many people gathered around her dead body asking God why he'd sacrificed such a meaningful life, but I knew exactly why—ever little painful detail. In fact, there was so much more to her suicide than anyone realized at the time.

Her and her husband, Buck Taylor, had taken in a young man the world had thrown away and determined was a lost cause. But Stevie didn't believe in that. No. She thought every single child—no matter how damaged—deserved an opportunity to have a loving family.

They took him into their home, but it wasn't long before things started to crumble around her. The young man was way beyond troubled. He was a monster, and it didn't take Stevie long to understand what his true nature was. A week after he got settled in his new bedroom, he cornered Stevie one afternoon while Buck was at work. He ripped her clothes off and said, "If you don't have sex with me, I'll tell everyone you molested me, and they'll never let you within five feet of another child." So, she gave in to his commands and let it happen. As the days went by, it happened more and more, and it became more brutal every time. Until one day, the young man promised he'd tell Buck what they were doing. But no matter how much she begged, pleaded, and prayed, the young man never relented.

The guilt became too much for her, and she swallowed a bottle of sleeping pills while her husband slept next to her. He found her body the next morning, but it was too late. Her body felt cold, lifeless, and he knew there was nothing he could do to save her.

Normally, when I recorded someone's story in The Death Journal, their soul grew lighter and more full of joy, but Stevie's soul seemed to grow darker with every detail I recorded. It was the first time I witnessed such a thing. As I approached her soul making its final descent from her physical body, she appeared frightened and angry.

"I know who you are, and I will not go with you," she said. "You can't take me with you."

Confused, I looked to Queen Olivia for help because she was always prepared for any situation. Out of any of the angels, she'd been gifted with more power by the God we were biologically-engineered to serve. Some of her powers were so powerful and secret that she didn't know what they were herself. Her hand touched Stevie, and they were immediately magnetized to each other.

The whole way back home to Forastah, Stevie fought Queen Olivia's control. The anger in Stevie's soul made her much more powerful, but she was still no match for Queen Olivia. Tethered to each other, we made our way back to Forastah as quickly as possible. Of course, there's still the matter of what happened when I recorded her pain in The Death Journal. It was the first and only time my powers were rendered useless.