I met an angel today. The one I’d prayed for.

I’d fallen into the street face first, so there was sand in my eyes and my nose was stinging, leaking blood. Red handprints on purpled skin. Static stars glimmering behind my eyes as I stumbled to my feet, only to be shoved back against the hard ground.

“Don’t come back,” my mother spat, throwing my backpack after me. I just stared at it. Hello Kitty stared back.

Suddenly, the angel was there, so full of holy fire that her eyes were burning and melting. The voice that boomed from her lips could only be that of God, as it sent the city streets into an awed silence.

My ears were ringing so I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but I could see her. She looked barely older than my sister had been when she ran away. But she was different.

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She was muscly, with broad shoulders, big hands and feet. Her wings had been cut from her shoulders and replaced with swirls of dark ink that ran down her back in trails of smoke. Her black hair stood out crisply against her golden halo, protecting us from her divine light and basking her in a warm glow.

When I looked up at Mother I could see fear in her eyes. I’d never seen that expression on her face before and it scared me, so I looked away. The only thing Mother feared was God, and she’d told me so plenty of times.

I felt the angel wrap one wing around me, then another. Her arms lifted me up. Her light was getting brighter. And I was getting higher.

Things were getting quieter.

The air got cold, but I didn’t shiver. Clouds gathered around us in greeting. And the sun began to sink.

“I prayed for you so many times. Why didn’t you save me?” I asked. I had to know.

But she didn’t answer me, and when I looked, I saw her mouth was now an eye. She was covered in eyes. And for me, each one cried.