Thursday, April 22, 2010

His Wings Were Not Armor

I can't tell you my real name, but you can call me Lauren. If you're reading this, know that you'll never hear of me; you'll never know my complete story. But I don't want to die without... some evidence left behind that I existed. Because I am real. There are those who are trying to convince the world that I am fiction, but I assure you... I am real. Please believe this.

I'm almost 40 and I've been in love only twice in my life. The first man I fell in love with is the reason I'm on the run. I've been running for 12 years. I used to think the world was a big place, but now I know that it's extremely small, with only so many corners to hide in and only for so long. They're always right behind me. I'm afraid to say too much, but let me offer this advice: don't attempt to uncover the secrets of secretive men.

The second man I fell in love with I only knew for a day, if that. He knew me, but I didn't know him. He knew my real name, but I only heard him called "Angel 7," and that was only from a transmission I overheard on his hidden surveillance radio. Of course I didn't trust him at first - he did just seem to randomly appear out of nowhere, after all - but it wasn't long after he offered to help that he proved his sincerity. It took his death to do so, but he proved it.

He was, shall I say, tall, dark, and handsome, though that memory is probably affected by what he did for me. In reality he was probably just short of 5'10" and a bit plain. But his voice was both stern and calming. A matter of fact attitude. My very own Terminator hero informing me that I should come with him if I wanted to live. Alone, tired, and already willing to give up, I went. And I lived.

He gave me money and a handgun made mostly of plastic, including the bullets. He told me that people were trying to help me, not because they had to, but because they wanted to. Although I had my suspicions, he never mentioned wanting anything in return. He was, quite simply, helping me.

I remember his eyes. Dark, intense, and always shifting. I could tell that he believed that a man who stops to take in the scenery is a man who will be buried in that scenery. My first lover used to say that all the time. Secretly I wondered if the two knew each other. I believe they did, but I guess I'll never know.

It was those eyes - haunting, engaging, and lovely - that noticed movement in the shadows. And it was his hands that pulled me out of the way of the gunfire undoubtedly aimed at my head. I was in a third world country and Angel 7 mused that they were trying to make it look like a robbery to avoid an in-depth investigation. He mused this as he was bleeding to death in my arms. The blood he left on my shoulders was from when he returned fire into the shadows. Whatever he fired at, he must have hit, for the alley went quiet for a moment. A brief silence quickly replaced by the groaning of two men.

He told me to leave him there; that his job was finished. I was alive and, at the time, that seemed more important to him than it did to me. I couldn't remember the last time anyone held that point of view. That was when I fell in love.

I'm still running, but at least now I'm an extra step ahead. I'm real and I'm alive. Please believe this. And help me.


  1. This seems like it could be a part 1 to something. I hope you will add to it!

  2. I agree with Amy (She Writes). Looking forward to seeing more if there is any to follow, and if there is isn't, you will force me to use my own imagination. Perhaps that was the point? Either way, a riveting read today, Jeff.

  3. nicely only critique is that the pacing of the piece really didnt match what was happening. i did not feel hounded or know...

  4. Haha the critiqued become critics. I would not dare. But I would like more. And I did get the hounded feeling here. You are in touch with your feminine side.

  5. Intriguing, Jeff. I join the ranks who hope this is part one. May we have some more, please?

    I also find it interesting that you took a woman's point of view. I'm not sure a woman (actually, a man either) would fall in love quite so quickly, but, hey, it's fiction.

  6. This one seems the prequel, or perhaps the sequel. Write the rest, so we can know for certain.

    'Lauren' could go two ways: the voice doesn't scream 'woman' to me, nor does it rule it out.


  7. Oh, no, leave it dangling there for each mind to finish. Write something else.... -J

  8. To be continued?.......
    Type, type, type.....

  9. if this is 'terminaterish' it is an interesting thought that the future might have sent other 'angels' back to protect key humans..kind of insurance...neat.

  10. I hope this is "to be continued" and I enjoy your "feminine" side...

  11. I too am waiting for the sequel or the prequel or more....

    Nicely written

  12. Definitely leaves me wanting to know more. I, like Brian, didn't feel as hounded as I did a little breathless. I think that is what carried me through from start to finish and then wanting "part 2"!!

  13. Edgy. Nice. I like it coming from the woman's point of view.

  14. oh great...another one to leave us wondering and begging for more. haha...your trademark I'm beginning to think.

    Very nice...and page, please! :)

  15. Felling like a cliff hanger here! Again.

  16. I liked this the first time I read it and glad I got to read this short again.

    Fits well with the TT help theme

    mine is on the dreamy side but then the moon is always shining over dreamers
    my TT is here

  17. Yeah! There you go. Previously you threw me right back into IRL, and here I have escaped! Although this is undoubtedly IRL for some, I don't know them - that I know of - ;-)
    Wonder how I could help Lauren...
    I'll be the one buried in the scenery.