Conflicts of Faith

Isaiah stood on a roof of a nearby building watching as the police interviewed and processed Elizabeth. It had taken him longer than he had first thought to escape from the human law enforcers. He had to admire their persistence, but he had managed to avoid them by running onto a roof top and flying into a neighbouring patch of trees. Now he crouched behind a chimney, trying to conceal his white wings as much as he could. Elizabeth was sat on in the back of an ambulance with a paramedic at her side wrapping bandages around her waist. Men in huge white overcoats and plastic goggles were taking pictures of the sinner and of the entire alleyway. Several police officers were walking around the block, questioning every person that they ran into. Isaiah was a good fifty feet away from the scene but he could hear every word being said.

          “Well Miss Barb you have a fractured rib and that cut on your lip should heal within a few weeks.” Said the paramedic treating her.

  “Thank you.” Elizabeth said looking out the back of the ambulance. Two burly men approached her. One was wearing a dark leather jacket and the other a perfectly pressed suit and tie.

  “Miss Barb, I’m Detective Pollard and this is my partner Detective Howison we need to ask you a few questions before you go to the hospital.” Said the man in the leather jacket.

  “Did you get a look at the man that killed your attacker?” Howison asked.

  “Not really,” said Elizabeth shaking her head. “All I was concentrating on was the guy that was trying to rape me. Next thing I know I’m on the floor and trying to crawl away. Then I manage to stand up and a guys stood there looking at me, then you came around the corner and he bolted.”

  “Any description will be helpful.” Pollard insisted.

  “Blonde hair, dark eyes, five nine...five ten, maybe. White hoodie and blue jeans.” Said Elizabeth, obviously trying to recall what Isaiah looked like. Howison opened a small note pad and began to take notes.

          “Anything else? Something he might have said or looked at or even smelt like.” Asked Howison as he jotted down in his note pad.

  “He smelt like, earth. Can I go now? I really need to get some sleep.” She asked jumping from the ambulance and looking up at the two detectives. Detective Pollard turned and pointed towards a police woman who was interviewing people on the sidewalk.

  “Presley,” he commanded. “Take Miss Barb to her home and do three circuits before leaving.” The female officer nodded and then pointed Elizabeth to her car. Howison raised a hand and stopped her.

  “This is my card, call me if you remember anything.” she took the small piece of card and followed Officer Presley into the back of the car. Isaiah closed his eyes and he heard her voice, barely a whisper, saying “Savoy Hotel.”  Isaiah smiled to himself and stood on the roof top. He turned and spread out his wings, to find a young girl staring up at him from a loft window.

          She opened it and raised most of her torso out the window. Her bright blue eyes and golden blonde hair seemed to shine in the moonlight. She must have been only six or seven. “Hi.” She said timidly.

  “Hello,” said Isaiah lowering his wings.

  “Are you an angel?”

  “Would you like me to be an angel?” he asked the girl, she nodded vigorously. “Then I am an angel child.” She smiled at him sweetly.

  “Are you here to help Mummy?” asked the girl smiling at him innocently. “Mummy says angels come when you really need them, and when you pray really hard. Come on you can see her.” The girl dropped from the window and began to move around in the room below. Isaiah tip toed carefully to the window. Humanity was bizarre, but he had a curiosity about it and how they lived. When he reached the window he looked over the edge slightly. A woman in her late thirties was laid on a bed with wet cloths over her forehead. Whether from the cloths or sweat he wasn’t sure, but the mattress that surrounded her was soaking.

          “She’s sick.” Said the girl. “Daddy keeps saying she’ll be fine, but can you help her anyway?” Isaiah stared into the soft round face of this small girl. So innocent, so child like in her beliefs. But there was nothing he could do, if it was god’s will for this woman to die now, he had no place to change that. Gods will was law, and law must be upheld. He couldn’t look at her anymore, so trustful in happy endings.

  “I’m sorry.” Whispered Isaiah. He sprang to his feet and snapped open his wings. Sprinting with all his power at the edge of the building he began to flap his wings, and then he jumped. An updraft of air caught him and pushed him high into the night sky. Higher and higher the up draft took him, until he could see all of London. As mere lights, like florescent ants dotted around a sea of black molten ground. The river Thames stood valiantly running straight through the heart of the capital. Like a huge black ribbon, twisting and turning as if laid there by god himself. It seemed a short flight to the huge, grand building which was the Savoy hotel. Isaiah stood on the roof of the building where huge vents and air conditioning units sat undisturbed. The innocent face of the young girl was still vivid in his mind. It burned inside his skull, it created a feeling he didn’t recognise, a feeling he didn’t like.

          A roof door suddenly flew open. Isaiah rolled behind an air conditioning unit and peeked carefully around the corner. A man and a woman in a black and grey uniform stood by the door looking around the roof. The woman was small with dark hair and the man was small as well, but burly with a crew cut. The woman pulled a small packet from her apron and pulled two sticks from a hole in the corner. She handed one to the man and they both placed the small sticks in their mouths and lit the ends with a small fire box. “Jesus Christ,” blasphemed the man. “I’ve needed one of these all day.”

  “Me too.’ Agreed the woman. ‘Have you heard who booked herself in tonight?”

  “No who?” asked the man blowing a thick plume of smoke into the night air.

  “Elizabeth Barb.”

  “That teenage lass from that chick flick...Constellation was it?”

  “The very same.” The woman took a long suck from her stick and looked towards the sky. “She doesn’t want to live at home anymore.”

  “Pfft... That woman has more money than god; she should just buy a new house.”

  “Her parents just died!” she woman yelled loudly with a horrified expression. “Have a little sensitivity you gorilla.”

          “Yeh well lots of people’s parents die every day and they don’t get splashed all over the news. Just because this girls famous and done a few movies means we should all have a day of mourning for her when someone in her life dies.” He ranted between drafts on his stick.

  “Well that’s celebrity, and just because she is one doesn’t mean we don’t have to be considerate towards her. She has emotions and feelings like every other person.” Rebutted the woman. A grunt came from the man as a reply and they both dropped their sticks onto the floor and crushed them with their feet. They disappeared down the dark staircase and the door shut behind them with a loud snap. Rising slowly Isaiah moved to the very edge of the building and looked down onto a well lit balcony. Because of his quick escape from the police he was forced to open his wings quickly. His wings had snapped from his body so fast they had ripped wholes into his jumper, which was actually convenient. As it meant he could retract and expel his wings without having to remove his clothing. He crouched down as his wings began to retract, painfully, into his back. A groan of pain released itself from his mouth as he stood his back smooth and uncomfortable.

          Breathing slowly Isaiah jumped from the roof and landed square on the balcony. Small cracks appeared around his feet in the white tiled floor. The thin glass doors that lead to the apartment were shining and glistening beautifully as he pushed them open. The first thing he saw was the walls which were a biscuit brown colour with gold filigree stretching up to the ceiling. It looked like vines had been dipped in molten gold and sewn into the very bricks themselves. A lush scarlet sofa sat facing the east wall where a huge television was placed on an intricate wooden stand. Several large paintings were placed strategically around the walls, giving the living room a cosy feel. Isaiah stepped in and the wooden oak floor creaked under foot. To his left a stainless steel kitchen with polished black marble surfaces gleamed effortlessly. A vase with half a dozen roses was sat in the corner with a letter propped up against it. “Agh!” Isaiah looked forward and saw Elizabeth standing in the second doorway of the living room. “What the hell!” she yelled panic stricken.

          “Please do not scream my lady, I mean you no harm.” Said Isaiah reassuringly.

  “How did you find me?” Said Elizabeth stepping away from him.

  “It’s complicated.”

  “I’m calling the police.” Said Elizabeth running towards the phone on the kitchen worktop. Isaiah raised a hand and the phone flew from the surface and landed perfectly into his palm. Elizabeth screamed and slipped on the floor. Her head cracked onto the wood with a sickening thud. She scrambled to her feet rubbing the back of her head vigorously. “Stay away from me!”

  “Elizabeth please,” pleaded Isaiah.

  “Stay away!”

  “Your mother forgives you for yelling at her the last time you spoke,” said Isaiah quickly. Elizabeth stopped dead in her tracks and stared at him horrified. “She forgives you. And your father doesn’t blame you for wanting to sell the house; he said it’s what he would have done.” A bead of water ran down her cheek and her bottom lip began quiver.

          “Get out!” she bellowed. “Get out, get out, GET OUT!” she screamed, more water thundering down her face. She hurled the vase of roses at his head. He heard it whistle past his ear and a small fragment cut his neck as it shattered against the wall. There was nothing he could do today, not when she was like this, apart from let her know what he was.

  “I shall visit in the morning my lady.” He walked onto the balcony and stretched his back. The wings cracked out and several large white feathers detached and floated down onto the street below. One last look, Elizabeth was sobbing with her hand over her mouth looking at him with grief stricken eyes. “May god be with you my lady.” Isaiah said over his shoulder, before jumping into the pitch black London night.




The door to the apartment swung open and Elizabeth stepped in and dropped a large paper bag on the floor. “Good morning my lady,” said Isaiah from the balcony. He was sat in the doorway with his back to the apartment, looking up at the bright blue cloudless sky.

  “You’re not real.” Said a defiant voice. Isaiah smiled at the sound of her voice, it reminded him of his family up in the Kingdom.

  “Oh? How so?” he asked, humouring her.

  “It’s simply psychology, I’m grieving over what happened to my parents and my mind has created an image of an angel to sooth my guilt. And also to make me feel that there is a point to everything.” Said Elizabeth as she headed into the kitchen.

  “Then what about last night in the alley?”

  “Simple, my mind used the image of the boy that saved me. A face I could trust.”

  “Ah, of course.” Said Isaiah sanding. He faced into the room and Saw Elizabeth stood by the sofa looking at him. “You have had a hair cut?” Elizabeth rolled her eyes and pulled the top of her head sharply. The black wig was left in her hand and her real hair was held against her scalp by a tight hair net. As the hair net was pulled away locks of golden, wavy hair cascaded down onto her shoulders and her back.

          In the daylight Isaiah could truly see her beauty. Her porcelain skin seemed to shine magically in the sun. Her rounded jaw and slightly flat chin only accentuated her full bow shaped lips. Dark brown eyes sat elegantly below thin dark eyebrows. And two small clumps of light freckles surrounded her button nose and stretched onto her cheeks. Her only imperfection was the small cut on her lip. “I just wear this to go out, I don’t want to be recognised everywhere I go.”

  “If I was something in your head wouldn’t I have known that?” Isaiah asked ruffling his wings.

  “Ok prove to me that you are an angel.” Elizabeth said as she sat cross legged on the sofa. Isaiah smiled and held his hand in front of his body. With an imperceptible flick of his index finger every object in the room lifted into the air. Elizabeth yelped as the sofa, with her still sat on it, began to float several feet from the ground. She jumped from the sofa and looked at the floating objects around her. “Wow, the human minds a powerful thing isn’t it mister angel.”

  “Touch it.” Said Isaiah looking at Elizabeth dead in her eyes. A rose floated past her and she plucked it out the air and held it in her hands.

          As she looked at it the rose began to turn into gold. Its petals became rigid and shiny as did the stem. Slowly the objects lowered into their places and Elizabeth was left looking at the golden rose. “I am Isaiah, Seraphim angel to our lord and guardian of his throne and kingdom.” He knelt before his and bowed her head. “I am now your guardian angel.” Several minutes passed with nothing said and no-body moved. Isaiah felt a hand brush lightly against his wings.

  “Your real?” said Elizabeth. Isaiah guessed it was a rhetorical question.

  “Yes my lady.”

  “You were sent by god?”


  “Well then Angel, there is something you should know. I don’t believe in god.” She kneeled down and raised Isaiah’s head with her hand. “He took my parents from me for no reason; he’s a murderer who hides behind his followers. He doesn’t care for us. Go home.”

  “My lady, I have been sent here to protect and help you. And I will not turn away from my duties.” Said Isaiah standing before Elizabeth.

  “What eva’.” She said broadly dropping the rose onto the sofa and walking into the bedroom. Isaiah was left stood in the room, stunned to the core.

The End

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