Some people say I'm not myself lately. As for me, I think I'm doing fine. I mean, this is my last year of high school and I'm already planning on going to college to study medicine. Thing is, I'm going to need one heck of a scholarship to go to med school. Just pray for me. Sometimes I feel like no one really cares about me. And no, I'm not feeling sorry for myself. It's just that, ever since my mom remarried again, things haven't been the same around the house. I think my step dad just wanted to marry my mom in order to have access to her money, but that's just me.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to getting out on my own. I have everything all planned out. I'll get an apartment while in college, and work a job at one of the local bookstores. That's really my love and passion: books. It's kind of funny looking back, because I used to hate to read. Now, I can't seem to stay away from a book for more than a few hours at a time. So you can see how working at a bookstore could be therapeutic and fulfilling. Only my mom doesn't want me to work while going to school. As for me, if I don't work, I'll never be happy. I don't want to be one of those kids whose parents have to support for the rest of their lives.

So here I am, in the final days of high school. People used to say that your senior year is so exciting. Not so for me. At some point over the last four years, I've become somewhat of a loner. I don't have any close friends, although I have this one friend who wants to have more to do with me. Thing is, I just don't feel like getting close to anyone right now. I don't want the person to end up getting hurt. Because that's what happened while in middle school. Nearly everyone I got close to ended up getting hurt by me. And I don't mean physically injured, but rather emotional. This one girl even said that I reminded her of a ninety year old man, who didn't want to have anything to do with anyone. I don't know. Maybe she was right.

I open my history book while sitting on my bed. Gosh how I hate history. It's got to be the most boring subject ever. And the most challenging. My teacher, Mr. Elmsbee, said to study history like you do anything else, with your heart, mind, and soul. Thing is, that just sounded plumb stupid to hear him say that. And I don't know, maybe he's right. I just don't like studying. It's such a waste of time when you could be doing other things. And while I do not like much about school, I do enjoy my agriculture class. I think it's because agriculture is more real and useful. Not just a bunch of dumb facts that you'll never use.

And I can totally relate to agriculture. I mean, where would we be without farmers? And then there's this girl, Jenny. She always smiles at me in the hallways, trying to get me to say something to her. What does she expect, a marriage proposal? She really gets on my nerves. I mean she is pretty, but I'm not interested. For the last several weeks, I've been spending my free time researching angels. Ever since I had a really awesome dream about becoming an angel, I've been obsessed with learning all there is to know about them. And so far, I've learned a lot.

One thing I've learned is that, in addition to being supernatural, angels can take on human form. And no, not all angels are guys. There are many female angels as well. Then there's this book I checked out of the library the other day: Fallen Angels. It's freaken awesome. There's this whole chapter about the angels that got kicked out of heaven with the devil. It's so real and eerie feeling. But I do believe it. I believe in the Bible. Everyone probably remembers the three visitors during the Sodom and Gomorrah story. I learned the story when I was just five years old.

I look at the clock. Dang it's getting late. I lay my book aside and decide to go to bed.

Next second, I feel my body falling from the sky, with no way to slow down. I fear I'm going to hit the ground. But I don't. Instead, I sprout these huge incredible wings and take off to a safe place. I need to know why this is happening to me.

I wake with a start. I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. I don't want to scare myself, but these dreams are getting more realistic each time I have them.

I swallow hard. I feel like I've just literally been battered by someone. I feel like I just assumed the figure of an angel, and then took off on my first flight. II let out a deep breath. "I need answers," I tell myself.

Just then, I hear someone from down the hall. It's probably just my stepdad going to the bathroom or something. Or is it? I rise to my feet and head to my door. With a hand on the doorknob, I listen closely. But there's nothing. I decide to go back to sleep. Perhaps I imagined something.

So I lay back down and feel sleep gripping my body. I drift off.

Knock knock knock. I wake to hearing this.

"Time to get up sweetheart, it's a school day."

I curse under my breath. Dang it, I forgot to set my alarm. I look at the time. Dang, I'm going to be late. I rise to my feet and get around.

By the time I make it downstairs, it's too late for any breakfast. Nevertheless, my mom shoves a piece of toast in my hand.

"Have a good day sweetheart," she says. I really like my mom. Wish I could say the same for my stepdad.

By the time I arrive at school, it's the start of second hour. But fortunately, this has never happened before, so I'm not in any kind of trouble.

Wiping the last vestige of sleep from my eyes, I head to second hour.

Walking into the classroom, I quickly take my seat. Meanwhile, the bell rings and Mrs. Loring, or what I like to call Boring, steps into the classroom.

She positions herself in front of the podium and begins taking role.

Finally she reaches my name. I say "here."

Across from me, a strange girl everyone calls Vleema stares me down, like she's getting ready to pounce on me.

Fortunately, second hour went by fast today, with no small amount of amusements. Peter Bark, a guy who sits behind me, kept making fun of Mrs. Loring's strange European accent. It is kind of funny.

I make my way to my locker.

Upon reaching my locker, I open the door and immediately look in the mirror out of habit. Man I look good. No wonder all the girls in the school are after me to be their boyfriend. I do keep myself looking as good as I possibly can.

"Hey Jason," comes a soft, sweet voice. I recognize that voice. I turn around to face Vleema.

"Hey Vleema," I say, trying to sound polite. Vleema runs a hand through her long dark hair, looking casual.

"So what's up," I say. "What can I do for you."

Vleema laughs, looking awkward and nervous.

"I was just wondering," she begins, "if you had a date for the mask ball that's coming up next Friday?"

I clear my throat. "No," I say. "I don't. But I wasn't planning on going anyway."

Vleema looks disappointed. "Why not? I mean, it'll be loads of fun. And you never seem to do anything fun."

I take a deep breath, running a nervous hand through my hair.