I woke slowly, curiously free of the usual uncomfortable jolt that accompanied the transition.  There was no need to be startled or concerned, though.  I needed to be awake right now.

I closed my eyes and exhaled, slipping through the tree as though it was nothing more than fog, landing on the ground in a smooth, familiar couch.  Night still cloaked the forest.  I never woke this early.

Curiously, I glanced down at my hands.  Where the dappled moonlight fell upon them, my skin glowed pale and iridescent.  Inhuman.

//Why do I sleep?//

//Maybe because there are some things I just don't want to see.//


A few yards away, the usual group of young ghosts played.  Usually, I would join or at least observe them.Not tonight.

Pulled by an invisible chain, I turned and walked slowly into the deep woods; the only place one could truly expect to be alone, away from the undead herd.

Moonlight danced across every unshadowed surface, so bright a person could have almost read a book by its light alone.

//How was there no word for moonlight before Shakespeare came around?//

I hadn't ventured this far from the other ghosts since I had joined them.  Much farther and I would lose my way, and then how long would it tak eme to find my way back?  I was hard to care, though, whether or not I did.

The leafy loam soon gave way to a sea of ferns that stretched far off into the distance as the trees thinned.  A woman stood among the ferns, the moonlight gleaming off her skin like a mirror, totally absent of the soft, eerie glow of a ghost.

I was a moth flocking to the flame as I waded through the ferns, excitement welling up inside of me like a fountain fit to burst.  The woman turned and smiled at me; the same smile my mother had worn when tucking me in at night, my father when my brother or I had done something wonderful, my grandparents when we were children splashing in the bathtub.  She was Christmas and birthdays and Saturday afternoons all rolled into one.

I took a deep, open breath as I stopped before her, weak in the knees I didn't have.

"You're an angel," I murmured, my eyes never leaving her perfect face.

She inclned her head, eyes sparkling with warmth.  My heart skipped a beat, or would have.

"This... this is what an angel looks like," I breathed.  No fluffy white wings.  No vengeful fury.  Just a beautiful, beautiful person.  Artists had had it wrong for centuries.

"No."  Her voice had the deep, melodic timbre of an organ. "This is only a form you could bear to see."

I frowned.

"Then what do angels really look like?"

Her smile tightened in amusement as she folded her arms.

"I couldn't describe it to you," she replied. "And I would never show you."

It sounded fair enough, though I couldn't help the disappointment that seeped into my face.  The angel's smile brightened and, with her slim, pale hand, cupped my chin.  I stifled a gasp at the feeling of warmth that blossomed from her touch.  Everything stilled; the hand I hadn't realized had been swaying nervously at my side, the low buzzing in my ears from the forest animals, the excitement that threatened to send me over the moon andback again.  I was floating in a river of real, tangible //warmth//.

Looking into the face of that angel, all my niggling worry and anxiety faded away with the rest of the world.  I suddenly didn't care about life anymore.  If she told me to, I would glady follow her into death, to the place where her magnificence was only a pale shadow, and this peace reigned.

Her smile was blindingly beautiful as she leaned forward and pressed her lips on my brow.  The warmth permeated every fiber of my soul, growing, mounting with energy as I felt myself being taken over bu a power greater than myself.  My mouth flew open and I gasped, cold air slamming into the back of my throat.  I choked, the cole battling the warmth for dominance.

//The warmth.  Please, I want to be warm.//

The angel drew back and I jolted, eyes wide and hands shaking from the sudden departure of her presence.  Like a candle flame snuffing out, the cold enveloped me completely and I fell, my hands clutching at the ground through the leafy fern fronds.

Trembling, I raised my eyes to the blurred visage of the angel, choking as tears began to fall down my face.  No, I wanted to go with her.  Why did she let me go?

Her smile never wavered as she raised her hand, instructing me to rise.  I obeyed, clumsibly wiping at the tears that stained my cheeks.

"Go now, child," she instructed. "The road has been set before you.  You need only to follow it.  You shall leave this forest as byt a wraith, but in your journey you shall be made flesh again."

This wasn't what I wanted anymore.  To return to that place of fear and struggle and endless anxiety, to ache and hurt all the time, without end.  Couldn't I go with her/  Couldn't I go where I was headed anyway?  It made no sense.  It wasn't fair!

"Why?" I whispered.

The angel understood my question- I could see it in her eyes!  But she would not answer it.

"Your soul shall become your body, and thus the temptation of sin shall be lessened.  You shall live as though you are flesh, and your life shall be one of purpose and fulfillment.  Go now, and return home."

"No, please," I begged, "I don't want that anymore."

"I cannot take you with me."  Her smooth voice had grown tense and sorrowful. "You will walk as one among the living, and you will be glad for this miracle."

Glad?  How could anyone be //glad// when heaven had been dangled right before them, only to be snatched away like a string before a cat?  How could she expect me to do anything but pursue?

"Death befalls all who dwell upon the earth.  Your time shall come again.  Do not rush into it."

I began to shiver, the cold seeping into my very core.  Black dots danced across my vision as the angel's brilliant light began to fade.  I choked; everything wavered before me, the warmth and light dissipating until, in a rush, she was gone.  Blackness enveloped my every sense and, with a silent scream of agony, I fell to the forest floor.