He only thought about it for a moment. 
"Nyah, angels don't exist."

Or do they?

Maybe angels came down to make you feel the euphoria. The first to feelings. The first to love. The first to everything.

The breeze was a little colder that night. It swept his hair across the other side of his face. He was breathing hard and felt almost sick. He had run all the way to his home from her house. Not one word he said before he turned away from the big disaster he'd come to, the big lie she'd made up for two years.

It was all fine a while ago. But it was Hell now. For him. The bouquet of roses he bought for her, now lay strayed-dead at the side of the road. The kisses that she once blew to him, without a meaning; he knew it wasn't for him. Of course, she wasn't expecting him at that time of the night. Neither was the other guy that lay in her bed, now sleeping, tired.

All those stories, all those hugs, everything felt bleak. Because now, he felt defeated. Betrayed.

Born to a cruel father, and a mother who died after he was born, Rami was introverted, shy from the beginning. Life had always posed to him as only for the brave. He always felt it wasn't a place for him. And today, as he lost faith in life, and love, he lost faith in his God as well.

It could have been a mundane day as always; yet it wasn't. As he looked up to the sky, he smirked.

"This was your doing, I knew it. I knew it all along."

The sky was silent. Rami was silent. He had nothing to do. He reached for his cigarette pack and lit one up. As he puffed on one, he cried. He screamed at the top of his voice,



"Was I not enough?“

"Why have you brought me here? To die alone? To rot like all the mice without cheese?"


He started to laugh. He laughed like a psycho.

"Where are you now? Are you even there?"

He takes a puff again in his cigarette. He knows he won't survive in this world like this. This pithole of pain was so immense, it regularly led him to doing stupid suicidal acts, almost.

And so he decides. He decides to end his life for all the petty value it ever had. The adrenaline that surges through his blood slows him down as he climbs up the railing on the roof of his building. The apartment was eight-storyed.

"8 storyes. You see that?" (Pointing with both hands downward, looking towards God)

"You don't have to fucking listen to me any more. Because death will."

He doesn't even leap. He smoothly dummies himself into the free air of the night sky and falls.

As he closed his eyes and fell through the open wind towards the ground, he realized that wasn't the question. No, was life merely just about angels? Then and there, Rami realized how wrong he was. That life wasn't about love only. It was about the hardships and struggles that life threw at him, which he had tackled through and through, which made so much sense, but until today that he let betrayal fiddle with his heart. He felt so weak now. For having misunderstood God. For never having realized how He'd been by his side all along. This juggernaut of a realization hits him so hard. He snaps back into sense, but ironic are his consequences.

"You were always.... there...."

He crashed into the cold tarmac of the road. Crunching noises and sound of bones breaking at the same time.

"....for me, God."

It would only be a few minutes till the ambulance arrived only to find Rami's dead body on the empty road, now crowded by a huge amount of people.

If I asked you now, would you say angels exist? I guess you’d. But maybe, not this type of angel.