The life of a normal human is precious. It's short lived and often unfair. You know this, you've watched it come and go. For years.
Of course, you had been normal once- you weren't inherently born into this life with the knowledge of what you'd come to be. Just how much power you would hold.
No, no, it all happened in middle school- during the shooting...
You had been terrified- the door had be barricaded and you were forced to a corner of the room without everyone else. Shaking, crying and clinging to each other.
Everyone seemed to drop the whole 'too-cool-for-you' attitude at these situations. All you could hear was the breathing, muffled cries and teacher gently trying to soothe everyone.
Your heartbeat was thundering in your ears in the rather quiet classroom.
That's when the first gunshot sent your heart to your throat. It wasn't even that far away. If you hadn't been shaking before, you surely were at that point.
Tears had formed quickly as you heard screams next, followed by more gunshots.
It was like the whole world had turned itself upside down as you were left to cower in corner with other small mice, only waiting to be taken out by the cat slowly stalking your mouse hole.
Once the gunfire stopped, you had clung to the closest person to you, burying your face into their sleeve as they hid id their own in your shoulder.
Their tears only being soaked up by the dark red cotton shirt you wore. It was still so vivid- every last detail.
You even remember the way the kid you clung to you started telling themselves 'everything will be okay!' while digging their nails into your arm.
The thud of what sounded like combat boots clunked down the hall, something rattling with each step.
Coming to a stop in front of the door- everyone held their breath as the madman jiggled the handle.
You still remember the way he sounded. His voice was something that could easily put you to sleep. Slick, sweet and syrupy.
Perhaps that's what made it all the more horrific.
"I'll give you until the count of three-"
The teacher had gotten up- standing in front of you all. She was shaking- a fragile woman,a young woman, a teacher who only started that year.
Her body couldn't handle gunfire.
And it didn't.
The moment the door started to get kicked in she had flinched, but remained resilient. In that moment, all those cartoons of the men and women in colorful clothing seemed so fake.
True heroes were people like her. Facing death with a brave face to try and save even a few lives.
It wasn't spoken- but it seemed everyone had the same idea- try to get past the gunman for the door- run and don't stop. Don't look back, get somewhere safe and call your parents if you could.
A cold shiver ran down your back as the door flew off it's hinges and that man- a dark grin plastered across his face, eyes seeming to reflect hell itself as he opened fire. That poor woman...
Her body seemed to move in some unnatural ways as each bullet sliced through her body, knocking her back.
She eventually landed on the ground, blood pooling around her corpse- holes covering her. Staring at her body, it felt so hard to move. Like the Earth itself had melded you to the spot.
However, it was when the bullets started raining down that you found the energy to run.
Screaming wouldn't do anything and you were finding it hard to even do something as simple as keep your breathing even. Or run properly-
You had tripped over yourself and gone sprawling just at the doorway. Everything seemed to go in slow motion as you pulled yourself up and scrambled to get away.
But that damn sound of combat boots was right behind you.
"Come on!" Someone had stopped and helped you to your feet. Some boy who you hardly ever spoke too. Some kid you hardly knew the name of.
Someone who took a bullet for you.
As soon as you were to your feet, they shoved you out of the way- making you stumble down the hallway as you turn to grab their wrist- hand extended.
Only to have their blood splattered across that deep red cotton shirt.
No, you had to run. The gun was aimed at you-
The bullet lodged itself between your ribs, sending you back against the wall. Sliding down against it as the man continued on his way.
That pain you recall to this day- so vividly. Blood drenching you.
Some from your teacher- some from your little unnamed savior who was dying for nothing but to have you follow a few seconds behind.
All you could do was stare at his body- watching the way the red bled into his white shirt almost matching your own shirt.
His opened eyes staring at the ceiling as he gave a few raspy breathes, dying a slow, likely painful death. Much like you currently were.
"I'm sorry- I'm so so sorry- I'm sorry- I'm sorry" You had repeated over and over to the boy as he slowly closed his eyes.
Breathing and speaking became even harder with each 'sorry' you uttered. Your breathing becoming more and more shallow as you close your own eyes.
Unsure of how long you sat there, you eventually hear a voice.
It was the most gorgeous voice you had heard. It still is the only voice that you know of that you can say belonged to an angel.
An angel by the name of Sariel.
"Not yet, dear." It was velvet enveloping your body, seeming to bring a warmth back to the cold in your body. His touch was the lightest thing you had ever felt.
Even as it dug through the hole in your chest.
Even as he pulled the bullet out.
Even as he got your heart beating again.
It wasn't like you could say no. Your body felt- fine. With that light touch of his, he helped you to your feet.
A soft chuckle escaped the angel.
"Don't you worry. You'll soon find out."
As he walked you out of the school, he explained everything.
Archangel Physiology and what it meant to be his One. At such a young age, you hadn't any idea what it meant, you hadn't even tried to understand.
That's why he sent you here, you supposed. To master your new powers. So you could become the guardian he was trusting you to be.