"Doesn't everyone belong

In the arms of the sacred

Why do we pretend we're wrong?

Has our young courage faded?" – Lady Gaga, Angel Down

That makes me cautious of everything. After the man has dropped me off in a town I barely, barely know, I have no idea of where to go. I look around me, and the people are just giving me looks. Of course I'm barefooted, and they are looking at me like I'm a peasant. Though my clothes, thanks to the demon who has basically fooled me, seem brand new. I have this urge to take the clothes off of me, rip it off me like it's a poison to my skin, but there's nothing really I can. I don't want to be naked, with a lot of people can see my junk and I'm sure that it's illegal in the mortal world. I can get jailed for that.

Something inside me clicks; the demon, Slate, knows me. He knows my angel name; it rolled off his tongue like a soft cotton ball, dripping at the tip of his tongue and I shudder. There's a mirror in front of me, and a glittering sign of a coffee shop shines in a fading manner. You can barely see it since the sky is as bright as my mother's wisdom.

I miss my mother, and my father, and everyone in the castle.

Despite what my father has given me as a punishment, I kind of deserve it. I mean, I understand my father, I really do, it's just that sometimes, especially if you're a kid, there are things that you don't understand, especially your parents' decision for you. Sometimes you don't think it's best for you what your parents' have decided for you, and it makes us feel awful for ourselves, and sometimes it makes us hate our parents. But I could never hate my parents. I love them to the moon and back.

"Get off my way, bitch," someone sneers at me as a bulky man pushes me away and I look at him in shock. I want to call Sariel, the angel of guidance, and ask him to guide the man who pushed me rudely. And he said a nasty thing to me! I know that I should ignore that, but I haven't been called a bitch in my life. Never. And the fact that I've been called a bitch is something that pains me. The man has a brown hair, cropped, and he has a lot of tattoos in his arms that make me cringe. Tattoos, I know that it has meaning for some of the mortal people, but the thought of inking my skin with symbolisms and such will not bring me good luck. It will probably not look good on me.

Many of mortal humans are corrupted, my mother had said to me as she pushed my locks backward, smiling up at me brightly; we were on the long couch, I was seven years old at that time, inside my bedroom and my mother had come inside my room to clean my room out and once she's done, she talked to me about demons and angels, but we still help them out because we love them. The forces of evil keep getting stronger and stronger, but we must fight back. We swore to the God that we will be his warriors to keep the humans from sins that the demons keep bringing. We must stop them. Humans can be corrupted easily. They want things in life, and you can fool – sorry for the word, forgive me oh Holy God – them that with what they desire most. That's why we're here. We're here to help them, to fight the titans of evil, even the little ones.

Despite that, I close my eyes and pray, my mind suddenly flashing the angelic face of Zadkiel, the angel of prayer. I hope Zadkiel hears my prayer, and deliver it to my parents. Now that I'm a mortal, I'm in a great danger. The demons are freely roaming the Earth, and I've said that before, and the fact that Slate has known me even if I look very mortal to him says something: I'm not safe here on Earth. Through prayer, I tell Zadkiel that I need a lot of guidance and help I can get from the Heaven.

I turn around, sensing that someone is looking at me, behind me, and when I look around, I only see a sea of people milling around the street, phones on their hands placed over their ear, briefcase and coffee cups in hand as they walk faster, and earphones in their ears as they listen to a probably great music for them. I frown, not really seeing that someone is looking directly at me. I start to walk, still having no idea of where to go. I can go here and there, but I have no destination. I need a home, or a place, to stay. Temporarily.

I continue to walk, hissing as my feet make contact with the hot ground. I run, not wanting to torture myself anymore. My eyes focus on the signage, hooked and hanging on the handlebar of the wooden door that says: Unit for rent. Based on my knowledge, it's where you can temporarily stay but you have to pay. A woman with streaks of grey hair opens the door, fixing the signage and she sets it straight as the signage is slightly angled to the side.

Walking up to the woman, she sets her green eyes at me and smiles. "How can I help you, boy?" she asks me, her voice laced with sweetness, but the hint of oldness is still there.

Smiling at her, I'm suddenly scared; this is actually the first time that I will make a conversation with a mortal human. I'm a mortal human now, temporarily but not permanently, which means I have to act and make conversations like a mortal. I'm not sure if there's a difference though. "Is... is the unit still available?" She looks at me, her eyes raking up and down on me, and I flush. There's a question in her eyes, but she nods her head. How old is this kid? I'm only 17 years old, and I'm not really sure if this mortal woman will let me stay. Because for one, I DON'T HAVE GREEN PAPERS... or mortal humans call it: MONEY. Number two: I LOOK LIKE A KID WHO JUST RAN AWAY FROM HOME.

"I'm Cindy," she says. "What's yours?"

"Adrian," I give her my nickname.

I rub my hands in my pants that the demon has lent me, and there's something bulky in my pocket. I put my hand inside and feel something, a bunch of papers, a bit rough, while I follow the old woman inside the bricked buildings. Unlike back home, walls here on Earth are made with bricks, stones, woods, and such, but not glass. There's still the sun, who is still flaring brightly high in the sky, but not as beautiful as the sun at home.

There is a stair that leads to every level of the building, but there's also what humans call: elevator. The old woman leads me into a room, and once we enter, she shuts the door behind us and takes a seat on one of the large couch. "You look like you're 16 or 18 years old," she voices out her thoughts as she slumps her back on the couch.

Do not lie. Do not lie. Do not lie. "Yeah, I've been told several times," I laugh awkwardly, pushing my brown hair back. "I just need a place to stay. I..." I'm about to say that I don't have money to give her but the ring of a telephone cuts me off. She raises her index finger at me, preventing me from saying anything and she goes to where the telephone is, placed over the polished mahogany desk, and answers the phone. Humans and their technology.

Pulling out the bunch of papers inside my pocket, I let out a gasp as I see the green papers, each paper has a mark of: 100, and the face of Benjamin Franklin – I'm not really sure who he is, but Léandre had given me a lecture about how America, and some of the other countries, works, and I forgot how America works. The woman has gone back to the couch and takes a seat, eyeing the money in my hands and her eyes glisten with something.

"We still have a unit, on the 15th floor, the only available." I sigh in relief internally. The money is not for me, and it's not from me, so I'm not really sure whether I should use this money to pay the bills. But I could work, earn money, and pay the devil someday. But the demons don't work that way; they will want something precious, something precious that belongs to you, the one that you can't give. I don't have any options but to spend this money. Mother, Father, God, forgive me for I have sinned! I shout internally, and tell the lady that I'll get the unit in the 15th floor. "Good, I'll show you to your room."

We head outside the room and she leads me to where the elevator is, and once we step foot on the elevator, she hastily punches the 15th floor button, and the elevator suddenly jerks, moving upward, making me stumble slightly and my heart races. For Heaven's sake, my God, why do mortal humans have to be inventive? I question bitterly, not really understanding the technologies human keep growing.

The woman smells of cologne and a cat, which is a horrible combination for me. No wonder the office smelled like a cat's piss mixed with something heavy perfume, and I'm not being judgmental. I speak of truth. The woman, whose face has wrinkles, and her green eyes bore into mine. She's wearing a black pants, a simple white tee that has a mark: I still rock n' roll that makes me frown. I immediately put up a smile, grinning widely.

"We're here, follow me." She motions for me and I follow suit, trailing behind her like a puppy. There's a long hallway, and each side of the wall has rooms with a huge interval. The wall is painted with white, with pink roses design placed randomly across the white wall, and that makes me smile somehow. The roses remind me of my mother, as she loves roses. As we reach the end of the hallway, she turns to face the door that has a golden mark pinned on the wall: 15S and she unlocks the room, opening the door wide and something smelly invades my noise that makes me take a step back. The woman – Cindy - just looks at me, apologizing. "This needs a little cleaning. This room hasn't been inhabited for quite some time now. If you want, I can help you out here."

"Thank you, but I'll work on it alone." I say to her, giving her a smile, though my smile is twitching. She looks at me, her eyes flashing with something and I sigh internally, pulling out the wad of cash in my pocket and handing her some. "Thank you. We can talk later about... monthly payments. I need to clean this first." That's easy, so easy that it makes me question whether this is supposed to happen or not. I think you're supposed to sign something, or... nah?

"Sure," she says, smiling brightly, her crooked teeth flashing at me. "Have fun at your stay. Where's your stuff?"

"My stuff?" I laugh awkwardly, scratching the back of my neck. "Ahaha. I left it at my... previous home."

"Oh," she says, frowning, but then she sets her green eyes at me and smiles. "Well, that sucks. Have fun at your stay, again. See you later!" She hands me the keys of the room and I thank her, heading inside the room and let my eyes roam around.

This room just needs a lot of cleaning. I have to plan my life here; I need to make sure that I wouldn't starve to death. I need to make money. I need to live. Without saying anything, I let myself fall on the ground, my butt hitting the wooden floor and I sigh, putting my face in my hands and think: this is so messed up.

My eyes flicker to the wooden floor, and widen, eyes shooting forward at the window of the room and find nothing there. I have seen a figure of a human, I swear. Squinting my eyes, I sigh out loud and stand up, heading to the window, looking at the overview of the city. I'm not sure of where I am, and I'm not sure of what to do in my life now. I'm not sure of what I should do to gain my parents' trust back, so they can let me live with them, with the angels, again.

Exhaustion creeps through me and I decide to rest, even just for a while. First things first: Sleep, plan, then... plan. This is so messed up, really.