I have faulty memory, or so I've been told.
The angel floated from the heavens, screaming out to me.
Screaming.

Pure white.

He made no sound, but I heard whispers of everyone shouting praise and prayers.
We were alone.
The crowds cheered.
I was so happy I couldn't stop smiling.
Pure, innocent, joyous laughter filled the air, though the silence was not broken.
I sobbed loudly, for I was sure to die.
The angel's heavenly white wings almost blew me away as they were beating at lightning speed.

Gold finish.

No, the angel's wings never moved, not an inch. I stood my ground.
There were tears in the angel's eyes as he begged me to stop this, stops this war, STOP THIS!
He kindly smiled and never said a word.

A pure white dress with a golden finish.

I'm sure it was golden and sunny the whole time.
My eyes never saw a drop of color except for the golden finish on the dress I had on.
But everything was golden, my eyes don't betray me. I know what I dreamt I saw. I saw, not dreamt. Never dream.
The angel collapsed and cried into his torn robe of cloth.
His blackened, damaged, and burning wings were shielding him from the chaos.
There were stars crashing down all around us, the world being torn apart.

Or maybe just in his eyes.

Oh yes, the stars fell in his eyes, and what a lovely color they were.
Always held in a smile.

Pure white with a gold finish, shot in the middle of a war.

The angel floated down from... no.
That's not right.

I do believe he fell.

Yes, he surely fell from the heavens, kicking and screaming to be given one more chance.
Shouldn't a merciful God let beings ask questions? Show the purest of all creatures, an angel, a little kindness? A second chance? It's how we were made after all. To make choices.
Our lives are in our hands.

Fate controls us, no point in fighting it.

The angel fell. Down, down, down, down. Onto the moon.
That's where we were.
The moon and meteors flashed in his eyes.

Fell. They fell in his...

Pure white.

Gold finish.

The devil fell from the heavens, isn't that it?
With his fate being sealed by the hand who creates the pure white with a gold finish?
All that is beautiful?
No more to the story.

It's just begun.

Memory?
What memory?