He Restoreths My Soul
Date: May 20th, late afternoon
Location: Gabriel's room
Status: Complete (Gabriel, Raphael)
Summary: Raphael destroys his accounts of Hadassah, the Hellbeast and his reasons for being worthless.
He Restoreths My Soul
In a dark corner, Raphael placed the wastepaper basket in front of him and set aside a small book of matches.
He flipped through his journal one more time. Every detail of Hadassah's betrayal had been written out, every vivid description of his attack on the Hellbeast... Every day, he wrote in his book, a mental dumping ground for the turmoil in his life. Page after page, some illustrated, some illegible... They were feeding his reasons for self-destruction. When he read back through them, it fed his self-loathing (How could Father love me? I'm not an angel, I couldn't possibly be an angel anymore!) At the time, writing it out had helped, like a release through words.
He didn't need to keep it.
He opened his notebook to the middle seam, where a drawing of his wings decorated the page (written on the roof, as he was doubting his Purpose, his Existence...) Before Raphael could change his mind, he ripped the paper out, crumpled it up, and dropped it in the basket. Then he lit a match and let it follow.
As the small flames ate away at the bitter memories, he slowly placed his notebook over them, lettint the edges lick at the sides. The cover began to brown and curl out as the pages between them slowly began to disappear into nothing but embers.
*
**
He shut off the faucet and rinsed out the metal container, careful to make sure there were no burns along the inside. His own fingers were slightly pink from the heat, but as his gaze shifted to the trash bag filled with burnt paper he let his lips curl up in a smile.
I don't need it anymore. I have my brothers. I have my friends...
I don't want to remember those bad things... I want to learn from them and move on... be stronger...
Smiling happily he looked over at Gabriel. He was going to need a new Journal, but this one, he decided, would be used differently. No more convincing himself he was worthless, no more referring back to his reasons for hurting himself. Just what happened, and how he could learn from it. And of course, some drawings of his friends. And his latest book rant. He didn't need to bottle up his pain, he wanted to get better.
And besides, he had a feeling Gabriel and Michael would be more than willing to help.
I'm still the Healer of God... The flower is still a flower, its just been pruned of its dead leaves so it can grow stronger...
It hurts...
But I'm not alone...
((•))
Location: Gabriel's room
Status: Complete (Gabriel, Raphael)
Summary: Raphael destroys his accounts of Hadassah, the Hellbeast and his reasons for being worthless.
He Restoreths My Soul
In a dark corner, Raphael placed the wastepaper basket in front of him and set aside a small book of matches.
He flipped through his journal one more time. Every detail of Hadassah's betrayal had been written out, every vivid description of his attack on the Hellbeast... Every day, he wrote in his book, a mental dumping ground for the turmoil in his life. Page after page, some illustrated, some illegible... They were feeding his reasons for self-destruction. When he read back through them, it fed his self-loathing (How could Father love me? I'm not an angel, I couldn't possibly be an angel anymore!) At the time, writing it out had helped, like a release through words.
He didn't need to keep it.
He opened his notebook to the middle seam, where a drawing of his wings decorated the page (written on the roof, as he was doubting his Purpose, his Existence...) Before Raphael could change his mind, he ripped the paper out, crumpled it up, and dropped it in the basket. Then he lit a match and let it follow.
As the small flames ate away at the bitter memories, he slowly placed his notebook over them, lettint the edges lick at the sides. The cover began to brown and curl out as the pages between them slowly began to disappear into nothing but embers.
*
**
He shut off the faucet and rinsed out the metal container, careful to make sure there were no burns along the inside. His own fingers were slightly pink from the heat, but as his gaze shifted to the trash bag filled with burnt paper he let his lips curl up in a smile.
I don't need it anymore. I have my brothers. I have my friends...
I don't want to remember those bad things... I want to learn from them and move on... be stronger...
Smiling happily he looked over at Gabriel. He was going to need a new Journal, but this one, he decided, would be used differently. No more convincing himself he was worthless, no more referring back to his reasons for hurting himself. Just what happened, and how he could learn from it. And of course, some drawings of his friends. And his latest book rant. He didn't need to bottle up his pain, he wanted to get better.
And besides, he had a feeling Gabriel and Michael would be more than willing to help.
I'm still the Healer of God... The flower is still a flower, its just been pruned of its dead leaves so it can grow stronger...
It hurts...
But I'm not alone...
((•))