The snow formed an ethereal blanket upon the frozen ground beneath of her. Shining like the thousands of stars that encompassed the great night sky. The trees were encased in sheets of clear crystal that reflected rainbows whenever the sun was brave enough to show itself from behind the grey clouds that covered the sky. The snow made no sound as she shifted her bare feet and began to make her way somewhere, anywhere that her legs could take her.
She had no preference.
The snow was on the off slot of becoming the blizzard that it was supposed to be. The wind howled in her ears, singing songs of past and present generations. Her hair whipped absently across her face reminding her how good it felt to feel. She didn't shiver nor was she cold in the slightest. The earth was utterly silent, the forest still.
If she could still feel, if her body was still susceptible to these types of situations, she supposed her hair would be in disarray atop her head and her pale and creamy skin would be blue and she would be shaking. She supposed she would feel pain from the winters raging storm as the many icicles formed across her skin and the front found a way to sink its icy tendrils through her as the shock from the cold attacked her nervous system. As the snow bit into her flesh, rather than the serenity that she currently felt as she watched the snow that danced playfully in the wind, bade her to come and join. The wind delt a blow that should have knocked her small frame off of her feet but instead she kept walking, walking as if nothing had even happened.
Babylon, a name that she had long ago given to herself, the meaning fit her well. Death and destruction. Annihilation. That is who she was. It was a wonder to her that such beauty that was the land and the snow surrounded her in such a manner. Whatever she touched wilted away. Wherever she walked destruction was not far behind. She could never stay in one place for too long lest that place meet its demise. Her happiness was always short lived.
Babylon's wings unconsciously fluttered, telling her that somewhere, in the wide expanse of the world that was so small in her eyes, someone was on the cusp of death. She spread her black feathered wings and lifted herself off of the ground when a large gust of wind swept her off of her feet. She flew through the icy and mottled grey sky, letting the loose tendrils of her long white hair caress the thick clouds above. Gracefully, she landed on a beach called Rockaway in New York. It was a chilly falls eve here, but not an irregular day. Children were playing and couples were sitting and teens were playfully splashing in the waves.
What a beautiful scene.
None of them noticed her existence.
The golden, violently bright sunshine would have corrupted her vision had she been mortal. She dove into the deep and cold, murky seawater. A small jellyfish swam by. She reached out to touch the stingers, enjoying the sensations of the pain. As the feeling of the influx passed through her fingertips, she felt the corners of her mouth lift in what might be perceived as a smile.
Nothing could harm her.
Ever.
Just then she heard the someone cry out. She looked over alarmed and saw that it was just a boy around the age of ten, drowning within the deep waters. He was choking violently and his face was turning paler and paler by the seconds. His voice was quickly growing weaker. Everyone neglected him. Not even his parents nor the paid life guards spared even a glance in his direction. His life, sentenced to death at this very moment. She watched as his face twisted in contortions of pain and his breath faded.
And then, for the very first time in over millennia, she chose to save someone instead of depriving them of a chance to live, knowingly upsetting the balance that the world so craved. Their world would be ending very soon anyway. What were a few measly hours, weeks, or years as it was? Time wasn't of essence for her. She floated over towards the boy's direction. His eyes were shut intensely and his lips were pale and pressed into a straight line, parted just slightly. He had passed out not being able to bear anymore of the pain. Carefully, she caught him by the arms and lifted him up and out of the waters reach floating up to the shore. There she set him down onto the tiny wet grains of sand, hurrying before he caught someone's eye. She knelt down beside the boy so that her lips where close enough to speak directly into his ear, yet never to be heard.
"Wake up, enjoy the last pieces of your life spending time with your loved ones..." Babylon whispered into his ear, dusting off the black mists that had settled onto the surface of his stilled halo.
Seconds later his pure white halo started spinning dramatically as it should.
She hadn't thought that it would have worked. She had never before succeeded in restoring life. Only taking. Stealing. All she had done in the past decades and centuries was inject more and more of the black elements, the poison, into their life force. Their halo. Their soul. Until eventually their soul suffocated and transformed into a star.
A shiny and vulnerable star.
"Sampson," Somebody called out behind her, coming nearer. When she looked up two adults, his parents she was assuming stood over her and the boy with tears in their eyes.
"Oh Sampson!" His mother cried out taking her sons limp and sputtering form into her arms. A tear fell onto the sand beside her, shattering into pieces as the sand soaked it up soon turning it into nothingness. "I love you Sampson..." She heard his mother whisper in self confirmation as she walked away.
As Babylon explored the city of New York, animals and insects would scurry, plants would wilt if she came into contact with them, and dogs would bark irritatingly like they were warning someone, but their owners were too hypnotized by their current activities to notice.
In the past years that she'd been alive, Babylon had paid attention to all of these clueless people throughout the world.
Children were playing and elders were reminiscing while couples basked in their youthful love.
It was quite a lovely scene. But the world was just not this simple. Every single day they, no matter the person, were doing these simple tasks over and over. Had anyone just dropped what they were doing and taken the time to ask why they were doing whatever it was that they were doing? Why they do these repetitive things, time and time again?
A person would have a dream but they were forced to give it up because they found that it was too hard to accomplish and almost impossible to chase. They had to live wherever it was that others had led them.
She lie there on a bench in Central Park and thought about the past, reminiscing many different memories and people. Soul's images passed through her mind also. For so many that she had taken not all of them had been complete. There had always been missing parts. What is it that they had sought? Fame? Power? Was it money?
All of these but love.
Love was foreign to her. Such a useless emotion. Love made a person weak. It was impossible to actually feel love, Babylon thought. To grow fond of, yes, but to actually love?
She should know. After all, she had lived since the dawn of time yet she had never experienced love. She had not been loved.
No interaction whatsoever.
Love was a stranger to her.
Besides, if it were possible- if there was one chance that Babylon could get to experience love and its qualities of partnership... she would deny it, whether or not she enjoyed it on any level. Love was a terrible thing.
She remembered a boy who had fallen in love with a young girl. They had both been about the age of nineteen and so foolish. One day, the girl had caught the boy staring at her and had asked,
"Boy, why are you staring at me?" The boy had replied,
"Because, girl, I think that I am in love." Weeks had passed and then weeks had turned into months.
They had spent much of their time together and starring at the stars. Thinking only of the future. Too in love and young and too dumb to care. And then as if time had stopped altogether for them, months had quickly shortened as they turned into weeks and then soon after, weeks had evolved into mere days. The girl had admitted to the boy that she was very sick, and only had about a week after he had given her a present and asked for her hand in marriage.
After spending so much time together, death had called for her sweet sacrifice.
Years later and as curiosity would have it, she had decided to find the boy and investigate. He had had a son and he too, had told his son the story of the mistake he had made.
"Son, when I was your age all I could think of was one thing and that was to fall in love. Truly. That was when I met your mother. I thought that she was the most beautiful woman that I'd ever seen. Love is a terrible thing. And I fear for you. Don't make the same mistake I had made. Now son, I am only telling you this because life can do terrible things. I hope and pray that god protects you from difficulties and the hurt and loss that I had experienced. I just hope you'll learn one day, and hope that god will show you differently." He had told his little boy. Now, she did not know what had become of the little boy, no, but she did not need to be told time and time again how unfortunate love could be. It was unfathomable how many loves had ended at her very hand. When death knocked on your door, you could do nothing to prevent answering.
Doctors struggle to find cures for the incurable, scientists work to prevent disasters from occurring. The mortals tried time and time again to find things that would bring peace to their small world. To stop aggression and sickness, to cure the ill and to help the poor. What they did not realize was that fate had bequeathed unto each his own. They could not control what became of the people around them, but they could take it one step farther and control what became of their selves.
They could partake in change.
The one thing she knew above all was easy and simple. Life was hard. It was forever an everyday struggle.
She outlived everyone that she had grown fond of in her past. She was immortal. She had followed them, watching over them and correcting their mistakes. She had been their personal guardian angel. She had worked around their lives and had given them life of the fullest until the very last possible moment.
The truth was, was that Babylon had gotten the chance to live, to feel life through her unassuming and unaware persons as she had never truly had a life of her own. And in wordless exchange, she had given them anything that they could have possibly wanted. She had kept watch over them through good and bad, making sure that only the best had come out of those situations. She could not control her pets or what they did, but she could control how.
Babylon sighed, her heart feeling weary. She was uninspired. She stood just before she lifted off, taking flight, watching over the city, soon the countryside and the people, unaware of her and her purpose in life.
~*~
She wandered through a smaller city somewhere in Minnesota feeling jobless for deciding not to take anyone's life this day. The world would soon meet its final demise.
This was just wonderful.
Sometimes, she wondered that if humanity had the power to predict the future, what would change. Would everything remain the same? In society, if there would still be many selfish persons taking away others freedoms, depriving them of the innocent's rights, just because they wanted to fulfill their own mindless and greedy lusts.
What if they could predict their own deaths and the trend of stocking at the same time? Would the humans learn to treasure the people around them or would they just want to be one of the richest around?
She heard a loud screaming and the sound of glass breaking drifted to her ears. Out of mere curiosity she decided to investigate. She glided through the air and flew through a wall as if she were transparent, and landed within a small two bedroom apartment. A woman stood before a man with tears in her eyes. It wasn't soon after that they escaped and started gliding ever so gently down her face.
Pain.
The woman began screaming at the man in a shrilly voice that was breaking from much strained use.
"I loved you with all of my heart, how could you do this to me," She screamed with her heart and soul. She was pointing a finger at the man lazily seated on a brown leather sofa trying to lean past her to see the television behind her, enjoying his own little world.
"What is it that I did?" The man intoned, irritation clearly written on the planes of his face. The woman sniffled appearing to calm down, hiccupped, and then asked,
"Tell me, do you love me?" The woman grabbed his arm painfully, her grip soon to leave a newly formed bruise.
"What?" The man asked groaning painfully. He sat up as if her were about to strike her.
"Yes! Slap me! That's exactly what I need!" She screamed at the man hysterically. She paused in her ranting long enough to narrow her eyes. "Jane was always better than me wasn't she? I was the one who had interfered the relationship, wasn't I?" She asked sarcastically roughly wiping tears from her cheeks. The man stood slowly while gently lowering his hand with sorrow written about his face. He opened his mouth as if about to speak but the woman stopped him in his place.
"No! You're not sorry!" The woman screamed at the man as she turned to run towards the stairs. A few moments later she ran down the stairs, throwing a little book at him.
"Before I leave I want you to read this." She sneered turning again towards the stairs to pack.
"Please! Don't leave!" The man begged with a worried and pained expression on his face.
But she was already gone.
Never to return.
He picked up the thick book she had thrown onto the seat beside of him.
'Dear Diary,' He read as he opened the small black book.
'Today I bumped into him again, although he didn't seem to recognize me. He was talking to a sales woman. He doesn't think she's good looking does he...'
The date was marked as July seventh nineteen-ninety-three. Seventeen years ago. He turned the page.
'Dear Diary,
I spotted his name in his email while at the coffee shop! Today I was there once again. I sat next to his table. Obviously he doesn't know who I am. But when I smiled at him, he nodded back and smiled! I hope we have a chance to become friends. His name was Mark.'
A large heart was drawn next to his name. Ever so slowly, he turned the page.
'Dear Diary,
I'm too hyper to write! I'm preparing for a wedding! That's right! He proposed to me! Mark proposed!'
April eighteenth, nineteen-ninety-seven. Silly girl, he thought with a smile. That day... He wondered what she wrote on that day. Their wedding day.
'Dear Diary,
I didn't mean to cry! But I just couldn't seem to help it! Those happy tears were a flood and I regret messing up my makeup! I wish I looked good in the wedding pictures. I can't believe I am finally married to this guy... this wonderful and loving and fantastic guy! My first and forever crush! Mark Hamels. My husband. I love you forever, Mark.'
May twentieth nineteen-ninety-seven. He was suddenly gloomy, coming to the realization of how much he actually loved her. Shakily, he turned the next page. Her hand writing was sloppy and nearly interpretive.
'Dear Diary,
I am furious! I saw Mark making out with Jane! My best friend! How could she?'
Everything had started slipping since that very day. Since May fifth of two-thousand and five. He had apologized again and again. She had cried for him so many times, he knew. But it was not enough to stop him from being tempted by Jane.
'Dear Diary,
I am sick of this! I love him. Jane said they were friends! I don't believe her....'
She didn't believe him? And he had thought that he had been acting so well, well enough to believe that his wife had been buying it all.
Fool, Babylon silently thought to herself.
He smiled sarcastically as if he had heard her thoughts of opinion.
'Dear Diary,
This will be the last time that I endure him. This is the fifth time, I've been watching him and I've been keeping count. I used to blame Jane for seducing and flirting with him, but then I realized that it wasn't her fault after all. One key won't make a sound, right? The problem is Mark. He doesn't love me anymore. I knew it from the way he looks at me. After work. At dinner. I knew.
I just knew. I think it is time to let him go.
Or I'll give him another chance. If he is sincere enough to say that he loves me. By all means.'
The date was today, he realized. She had just written it. But he had already missed his chance.
These memories were kept, no matter how old they were. She had kept her love for him. She had taken care for him when he was at his low points.
She had kept her love for him.
And what had he done for her? He had kept wounding her; he had left her in the cold.
He found her in the café were they had first met. He confessed his profound love.
She rejected him. Left him were he sat. He was determined to get her back... but this time she would not take him back. Tears escaped from the mans dull eyes. Someone patted him gently on the shoulder.
"Maybe... I can give you one more chance..." She said hugging him so tightly. "Because now, I understand that you love me too." What was it like? To love each other irrevocably?
Love is immortal, while life is not.
Did anyone wonder what happened to a two persons love, what happened to their affections when they were naught? What happened, after they met their end?
Where did the feelings go? Did they vanish? Evaporate?
Was it reincarnation? When two people died where did the feelings that held true for one another disappear to? Was it carried along with them?
So many questions that she needed answers to.
Craved answers.
Babylon left the small and nearly empty café that she had followed the undeserving man to. Why hadn't that woman left? Why hadn't she disappeared from his life like she had so sought before?
Love was a terrible thing.