The White Lamb

Mom was away, and so was Dad. I sat alone in the living room, playing with my toys. I loved all of them, but I especially loved a fuzzy, floppy, white lamb that I’d named Alice. I snuggled her when I felt bad, when I was scared and lonely. She comforted me for the longest time; her soft fleece soothed me when I went to sleep during those cold, cold December nights. I carried her everywhere, from the park’s playground, to the huge grocery store nearby, to my relatives’ homes all over town. Alice was always there. She had big, black, glossy eyes that were benevolent and sweet. She smelled of sweet vanilla, which often made me hungry for ice cream. I loved her so much.
I sat on the floor and talked to Alice about how I’d just made a new friend in kindergarten, and that I was excited to see her again tomorrow. She stared blankly at me as I gushed about my day at school, learning things I’d never heard of before, like the alphabet. I laughed when I told her how the teacher got mad at a boy for taking his action figures to school and confiscating them. It was funny how she didn’t notice me and her, though.
I suddenly yawned, and looked outside. It was getting dark. The dead, twisting trees were black against the navy blue sky. I waited and waited to see my parents’ headlights beam through the windows, but they never came. I got up, ran to the kitchen door, and flicked the light switch, but it wasn’t working. Shadows began to stretch across the walls, reaching out for me like monsters. I ran back over to the couch and squeezed Alice, trying to soothe myself. The static on the television hissed very loudly, but this was the only light I had. Suddenly, a huge clap of thunder nearly made me leap out of my skin like in those old cartoons. When I regained my composure, I suddenly realized something was wrong. Alice was gone!
I began to bawl and search around, trying to find my friend. She wasn’t under the couch, or behind the TV, or on the floor. She was nowhere to be seen. But neither were my parents. I kept checking for them, hoping they’d come home and help me look for Alice. I knew that Dad would’ve just gotten mad at me for crying because I was “too big” for that, but I was only five! Mom would help, though, I knew it. When she got back, she would help me!
I checked everywhere for Alice, but soon, I just gave up and lay on the couch, disappointed. It was too dark, and nothing was going right for me. 
I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to fall asleep, but something pried them open once again. A light shone from deeper in the darkness of my house; I could see it. I leaped down onto the floor and walked in long, careful steps towards it. The light was coming from a room I didn’t remember ever being in my house. I breathed heavily, before reaching for the knob that was just too tall for me to grab with my grubby little hand. Then, suddenly, it opened and I fell to my feet. 
I tried to scramble away in fear of what I saw, but I was locked in place. It was like I was Lot's wife looking towards a desecrated Sodom, right before becoming a pillar of salt.
What stood before me was large in both size and spirit. Soft, iridescent, almost satiny wool covered most of her corpulent body like a one-piece jumpsuit. Her hands and feet were incorporeal, shifting and changing like a fine mist, resembling hooves one second and hands the next. Her head was covered in a hood of the same wool as her body, but her face was black as the night, with a long, stretched snout. When she opened her mouth to talk, you could see her red gums and white, humanlike teeth. She had no eyes, but she did have wings. White, fluffy, powdery wings, like that of a snow owl. She didn’t move her mouth when she spoke, instead holding it open while something from within produced the sound. Her voice tingled my ears with a whispery, calming feel. She seemed to pity me, but I had no clue why.
“Little one, I do not know how to put this without metaphorically ripping the bandage off, so I’ll just tell you. Your parents are not coming home any time soon.”
“Where are they?” I asked, very confused.
“Well, on the way out of here, I saw another car crash head-on into yours. The driver was intoxicated, I think.”
“Well, what does that mean?”
“You’re deceased, in simple terms. Dead.”
I distinctly remember my eyes widening when I heard this. I remembered my parents driving home from my school and seeing a car spinning around. I remembered my father screaming at him as he sped up towards us. I remembered nothing after that.
“You’re safe with me,” the creature comforted me yet again, a light blue mist drifting from her mouth as she spoke.
“Do you have Alice?” I asked without thinking, not really expecting her to understand.
“That toy of yours? Of course I do!” Her “arm” formed a humanlike hand and reached into her wool, pulling out the plush toy that I held near and dear, before handing it to me. She smiled as I inched towards her, encouraging me every step of the way. Once I was roughly a foot away, she sat down on her knees, right at my height. 
“You know, people like you deserve the best this universe has to offer. You were robbed from life, so I’m not going to send you on to get reincarnated. I’ll give you a future many wish they had.”
She held me close, and I could hear the loud flap of her wings, heavy and forceful. She stood up, got a running start, and flew through the windows of my house’s doppelganger, which sat at the edge of limbo. She broke not a single piece of glass on our way to the wondrous heavens above. This was the beginning of a new life.
Now, as I write this, Mother Fleece watches over me. I write in both English and the language of the Angemon, her kind. She studies my work and helps me understand how her species writes. Alice lies right by my side, still comforting me like she did before.
Life up in heaven is something not many people seem to think of, only gravitating on the salvation aspect of it. I get that not many humans stay here, but I’m one of the few who are permanent residents. No one seems to bat a lash at me, though, which is quite nice. I do miss Mom and Dad. I wonder how they’re doing down there, alone.
Category:Beings
Category:Animals
Category:Items/Objects