Making A Difference

Their lives were the epitome of perfect. In the beginning, Brent’s family didn’t have much to write home about. However, shortly after his seventh birthday, his father’s business started to get a name for itself. It got bigger and obtained more customers through word of mouth and various reviews on different platforms.

Brent had all he wanted after that. His parents gave him whatever he asked for and money never became an issue. Yet, because of how busy running a business was, they gave up on family days and no longer did Brent have a “close” relationship with his mother or father. They gave him what he asked for, yes, but used money as a way to shut him up.

They didn’t want to hassle with the responsibilities of raising a child, so they hired a full time nanny to take care of him. She was a kind old woman. Flicks of gray hair rested against dark skin and brown eyes were warm and kind. It was a stark difference from the frigid gazes of his parents. Brent came to love his nanny more than his birth parents.

After they became rich, his parents paid little to no attention to him, but they seemed happy. He was young, but seeing his parents happy made him happy. Brent had no shortage of affection from his nanny; she provided the love, care, and support a child needed to grow. She would play with him whenever he asked and always cooked his favorite meals; she even dealt with how picky he could be at times (something his parents were always annoyed by).

It seemed nothing could tear apart the money Brent’s family was receiving and the happiness his parents had. What he’d soon learn is nothing is set in stone, and things were about to take a turn for the worst.

***

Ten years passed since their family started to wallow in riches. The business spread to different branches across the country and there were even a couple in neighboring countries. Everything was going perfectly.

At least that’s what Brent though. He had no idea of the scandal lying underneath the surface, the one his parents and everyone else were trying so desperately to hide. If history taught anything, hiding a scandal makes everything blow up and turn it even worse than it was. That’s exactly what happened with their law firm.

It was small at first. A customer complained she wasn’t as represented as she could have been and threatened to sue them. Brent’s father did his best to appease her and even offered a small settlement if she kept quiet, but it didn’t work. She took to whatever medium she could get her hands on and spread the word like wildfire she was scammed. Word quickly spread and soon they were getting floods of angry emails from different people around the world. They demanded for them to refund the woman’s money and if they didn’t, they’d protest.

His father offered each company threatening to protest a small sum if they didn’t say anything, but that was the worst thing they could do. Now people were spreading the word the company was trying to buy silence and individuals began to protest outside each building they owned. Local news stations even covered the story and that was all it took to ruin everything their family built from the ground up.

They were sued for almost everything they owned, yet despite their most valiant efforts, they lost the battle and were ordered to pay the woman as well as various people a sum of five million. With how many people they were ordered to pay, they lost everything. After everything was over, they left the rich neighborhood they lived in and were forced to go to a much more poorer one instead.

His mother, bless her heart, tried her best to keep the family together, but she became far too used to having money. She left a few months after, leaving Brent with his father. The man started to drink away every shred of emotion emotion he could. He was a violent drunk, often throwing, smashing, and punching various objects, one of them being Brent himself.

Brent wanted to do whatever he could to help. He took various part time jobs and used the money to fund their bills, but that was all he could do. His father didn’t work at all; he preferred to stay home and wallow in self pity; at least that’s what it looked like to any outsider.

No one came to see them. The scandal seemed to paint an ugly image of their family to everyone in the world and no one wanted anything to do with them. At times, Brent wonders what became of the nanny he came to love so dearly. He hoped she found a new job with little children to look after.

He wonders how his mother is. Brent hopes she found happiness with another man and maybe she could build her life from the ground up again. It’s what he hopes with all his heart for his mother, and his father too. Despite being beaten by the man on a regular basis, Brent doesn’t blame him. He knows the loss of everything his father worked so hard to build is hard on him.

It didn’t take long before Brent became exhausted, both physically and mentally. He did his best to help his father, but all he could do is keep the roof over their head. To anyone else, it may seem like a huge thing, but Brent wishes he could do more. He’s a child, so there’s not a lot out there in terms of jobs for those under eighteen or without proper schooling.

One chilly Autumn night is the worst. His father is drunk, which is nothing new, but unlike before, he seems calm. It worries Brent. He walks towards his father and asks if something is wrong, but in response, the man slaps his hand away and sighs in defeat.

“If you were dead, we’d have all the money in the world and live a comfortable life like before. Why can’t you just die, child? No one needs you here anymore.”

Brent recoils, Tears burn his eyes as he walks backwards. “...Is that what you really want me to do, father?”

“I want to live like before…”

Brent runs to his room and locks the door. Taking a piece of paper and a pen out of a drawer, he begins to write his will. He writes for everything he owns to go to his father and mother (if they can find her). Signing it, he sets the will on his desk and opens another drawer. This one holds a butcher knife and Brent runs a finger over the blade before slashing it over his wrists.

Crimson droplets flow down his arm and drip on the floor. It doesn’t take long before Brent feels his life slipping away. Everything blurs and he collapses on the floor.

Goodbye… father. Goodbye… mother.

***

Brent awakens to flowers growing on his person and trailing behind him. As soon as they bloom, they wilt, and he arches a brow in confusion at it. “What the hell?”

It doesn’t surprise him as much as the wings sprouting from his back does. They’re a reasonable size and Brent wonders if he can fly with them. Giving them an experimental flap, he decides he’d rather not try his luck. The color, combined with the flowers, makes him realize what he is; a Forget Me Not Angel. He’s heard rumors about them, but didn’t think they truly existed.

His wing color discourages him. He heard black wings mean fallen and he’d have pass one of God’s tests to make his way to heaven or become reborn as a human. Sighing, he makes it so he’s visible towards humans and makes his way towards the home he used to live in.

To his surprise, the door is open, which is odd because his father would have never left it that way. Stepping inside, Brent looks around the area, feeling something is off but unable to determine what exactly it is. Venturing around, he lays eyes on the man who was once his parent and Brent’s eyes widen a fraction at how his father looks.

The elder Garnett’s eyes are red rimmed from what has to be hours of crying. He’s gripping one of Brent’s shirts as if it’s a lifeline and his appearance seems to be worse off than when Brent was alive.

“My foolish boy… we may have money from your settlement now, but it means nothing if you aren’t here.”

Brent feels his heart constrict at those words. He puts a hand on his father’s shoulder, flinching a little when the man turns and gives him a harsh look. Oh. Right. Those in our past lives don’t realize it’s us. “What do you want? Don’t you know barging in someone’s else home is rude?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Brent murmurs, contrite. He waves a hand towards the open door. “It was left open so I let myself in just in case something was wrong.”

“...Oh. How foolish of me. I keep forgetting to close that blasted thing.”

“What boy were you talking about?” Brent questions, knowing the answer but wanting to hear the words fall off his father’s lips.

“Why should I tell you, a random stranger who knows nothing about my life?” his father snaps, but calms after a moment. “You’re one of the few who don’t know the scandal, a rarity in itself. I guess I can tell you… My boy, Brent, did whatever he could to help our family after our business fell. I could tell he was working so hard but I was too angry at myself to recognize his accomplishments. In a fit of rage, I told him to die. I wish with all I am I could have taken those words back.”

“I… see. I’m sorry for your loss.” Brent can hardly believe it. It’s nice to have some kind of acknowledgement from his father, but why did it have to happen after he died? Why couldn’t the elder Garnett be strong enough to tell him all these things when he was alive? Bitterness boils in his blood, but it dies as quick as it came. It’d be no good to wallow in the past. What’s done is done. “I’m sure he forgives you,” Brent adds after a moment of silence.

“I’m not worthy of forgiveness. After we became rich, my wife and I didn’t pay as much attention to our son as we should have. Brent should hate us, not forgive us.”

The angel doesn’t know what to say, so he pats his father’s shoulder and turns away. “If you like, I can come visit every so often. That way you won’t be alone.”

“Why? Why would you, a stranger, offer yourself to a rotten old man such as me?”

“Because I think everyone deserves forgiveness.”

The man says nothing for a few moments. He nods after a bit. “Alright. Company wouldn’t hurt.”

“I’ll see you later,” Brent says, turning his head to give his father a brief smile before leaving the house and closing the door behind him.

***

After the encounter with his father, Brent goes to human form more often than not to try his best to make a difference to people still alive. He hears stories of those who live in similar situations such as his and who survived their suicide attempts. Brent becomes a volunteer at a local mental health program which deals with those struggling with suicidal ideation, and does his best to make those who struggle realize life is worth it.

There’s one in particular he becomes quite close with. Amy is a fifteen year old with beautiful blonde hair and shimmering blue eyes. Her arms are covered with self harm wounds and at present, her wrists are bandaged from a suicide attempt. Despite the darkness lingering behind her eyes, she talks to everyone who walks in the door and does her best to stamp a positive experience on those who are struggling.

Brent meets her after his interview with the head of the facility. She’s talking and consoling an older girl who has tears running down her cheeks and he can hear her saying “I wish I was dead, why couldn’t I be dead?!” Amy pats her midnight tresses and says “Because someone needs you.”

She leaves an impact on him. He tells Patricia, the head, he’d try to come in three times a week, since reverting to a human form on a regular basis is a rather tiring experience and drains him the more he does it. However, despite the lethargy clinging to his bones, Brent makes it in the day after his acceptance and he sees Amy watching television in the large common room.

He knocks on the door to warn her, and she looks at him, a little smile on her lips. When Brent asks if he can come in, Amy nods, and he sits next to her. “I couldn’t help but overhear your exchange with the other girl yesterday,” he opens up with. Amy tips her head and smiles again. “Do you do that a lot for other people?”

She nods and holds up her hands, revealing the bandages on her wrists. “My Mom found me and took me to the hospital before I bled out,” she begins, lowering and resting them on her lap. “She said she had no idea I was suffering so much. My Dad got the best psychiatrist in this region and they helped me a lot. That was two months ago.” She chuckles quietly. “I realized life is worth it, so I’m trying to help others with their struggles. I still deal with suicidal thoughts, but Patricia told me I could continue to come here for as long as I wanted since she said I’m making a difference.”

Brent is awestruck. This little girl is the strongest person he’s ever met. If only I could have known about this place before I killed myself. He sighs inwardly. No point wallowing in the past. “You’re amazing, you know that? I’m sure you’ve helped many people.”

Amy blushes a little. “Um, I’m not that amazing, but thank you for the compliment… what’s your name?”

“Brendan.” He came up with this alias a few months ago to use in the human world. Brent was a rare name in itself, so even though those in his past life couldn’t recognize him, he didn’t want to cause any he would possibly meet any grief by mentioning his name. “What’s yours?”

“Amy Ishimoto. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Ishimoto? Isn’t that Japanese?”

“My father is Japanese,” Amy says with a small giggle. “Do you want me to introduce you to some people around here?”

“Sure, if you wouldn’t mind.” Brent gets up and smiles down at the little blonde girl. “I think we’ll be great friends, Amy.”

“I think so too Brendan.”

*** Brent meets various people during his volunteer time. He notices Amy become closer with a troubled male youth with dark brown hair and onyx eyes, one of the newer members of the facility. He’s happy for his young friend; the boy is sixteen, so around her age, and seems to be quite recipient of Amy’s friendship, despite the horror he’s gone through. Over time, he and Amy drift apart, but it’s not a bitter end.

After his volunteer time ends, he goes towards Amy and gives her a hug, saying they’ll meet again someday. Amy gives him a small, teary smile, and hugs him tight before pulling away. “You left a mark on my heart, Brendan. You’ll always be important to me.”

Brent smiles and nods, patting blonde tresses before leaving the building.

He did his duty here. It’s time to make a difference elsewhere.

***

Decades pass. His father passes from old age and he overhears his mother died many years ago from an unknown disease. Amy has a family of her own; she married Kira, the man from the facility all those years ago. She now has children and grandchildren, but since Brent never ages, he was unable to keep in contact with her, so instead he watches from the shadows and does little things to help her out.

However, age is a cruel mistress to those who are human, and Amy passes at the ripe age of eighty three. Brent can’t show himself at her funeral, so he watches from the shadows and hopes God takes her in heaven. She may have had a suicide attempt, but she was a pure soul who deserves the best in the afterlife.

Brent guesses it’s his fate as a Forget Me Not Angel who is fallen. He could never find peace, no matter how much he wished to, and doomed to suffer and walk the earth forevermore. He wonders about taking one of God’s tests, but Brent knows he’s not strong enough right now. Hell, will he ever be strong enough? Part of him thinks he never will be.

Brent decides to travel the world and see what else is out there. There’s many places he wished he could visit when he was human, and with his wings (which he found out he could fly with if he took breaks every three hours), he could fly to different parts of the world and see what they had to offer.

With this in mind, he leaves a flower on his father and Amy’s graves (they were buried in the same graveyard, much to Brent’s surprise) before saying his goodbyes.

“Maybe I’ll see you in heaven someday…” he whispers to no one before reverting to his angel form and taking to the skies.

***

The world is vastly different when a person travels to different countries. After realizing his mistake of becoming attached to a human, Brent decides to stay in his angel form and look at the occupants from an outsider’s viewpoint. People did their own things and sometimes Brent sees one suffering from what ailed him so many years ago. It bothers him he can’t do much to help, but he knows he can’t interfere with nature’s natural course. Instead he watches and looks on with sadness when he sees someone made the fatal mistake to take their own life.

Brent wonders if everyone who died by suicide became a fallen angel or simply were cast in hell. Part of him hopes he became one because God decided he was worth a trial instead of casting him in the pits of hell, yet he doesn’t know for certain. There’s not a lot on Forget Me Not Angels in the human world, probably for good reason too. Who knows what people would do if they realized angels actually existed in some way or another.

He hasn’t encountered any other angels, and part of him assumes it’s because of his fallen status. It’s probably part of the punishment of taking his own life; doomed to walk the earth for eternity and never meet any who are like him. He’ll meet many humans and watch them suffer through things, but he can’t help them because they die eventually. It’s a bitter lesson Brent learned after Amy’s death.

However, on one warm summer’s eve, Brent is walking through the streets of England when he sees someone sitting on a bench. Are my eyes playing tricks on me…? The woman has pure white wings spreading from behind her back. A Forget Me Not Angel… why is one here?

Brent sees her slouched posture and knows she’s sad just by looking at her. Running a hand through his hair, he debates on whether or not to approach her. Is there a rule between non fallen angels and fallen ones from interacting with each other? After much internal debate, Brent takes a deep breath and begins to walk towards her.

Maybe now he’d have someone who he wouldn’t lose. Another angel who seems to carry sorrow within her bones. He wonders how she died; the white wings means it was an accident, but what kind of accident? There’s so many questions in his mind, some of them inappropriate to ask someone you don’t know well, and he stops about ten feet away from her.

Up close, he sees she has blonde hair, strikingly similar to Amy’s. It makes him do a double take. Brent knows it’s not her; Amy died of old age all those years ago. Still, the resemblance from the back is remarkable, if not eerie.

“Hello,” Brent says, and the angel turns her head, eyes wide. She takes in his black wings and her eyes widen even more. “I’m Brent. It’s nice to meet a fellow angel…”