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From: anonymous 
Story type: Angel
Location: Brooklyn Ny
Source: Form Submission

I was raised, unfortunately, in a less than "model" home. Actually, it was far less than model, it was utter;y violent.

My father was a normal man, I'm told; but he went off to fight in the jungles of southeast and came back a killer. He brought the Vietnam war into my families living room, 365 days a year in all too vivd technicolor.

I used to watch sleepy eyed, a toddler, as my mom would pray in front of her saint jude, her head down, the sobs barely audible. Even then at such a young age, I understand perfectly, with the utmost crystal clarity, why she did. But it didn't change anything, the battles and skirmishes still raged on in my house.

Then on one day which seemed completely normal at first(I remember waking up and eating breakfast, then breaking out my satr trek the motion picture toys,lol). It was also normal in the fact that i could hear shouting and screaming, with the sounds of things getting tossed around. I remember I was lying on my stomach on my bed, capt kirk in my right hand, and McCoy in my left when i was surrounded by this bright light. it was so bright that it drowned out totally the sounds of fighting coming from the living room. It was almost as if this light whisked me away from my room to somewhere else. The light then spoke. it told me i was to do god's work. and that it would be rough work, but my love of god., and his love for me would make me triumph. Then Suddenly I was back in reality, on my bed like I'd imagined it.

I have measured my life in terms of this bright light. In my mind my life is split up into 2 sections: before and after the light. And it changed me. I suddenly felt invigorated, I felt stonger. Everywhere I walked was hand in hand with god. I felt utterly confident with god, it was more like i had almost an audience with him. God to me, was almost something physical, like a rock or tree.

On the worst nights sometimes, when i was 10 or 11, and my dad was having flashbacks and reliving the war, I would cry so much that my eyes would feel on fire. And (Angels?) would come to me and hold me, and tell me it was going to be allright. They had bright faces, and shimmering robes. They would hold me till i fell asleep, i would wake up thinking how horibble it was for my tears to stain those beautiful robes they wore.

As the years wore on and i turned 13(the sighting of the light was when i was about 7) I started to succumb to the abuse I was put through at home. I became moody, and depressed, rebellious, and demanding. "Please God!" I would say, "I am ready to come with you! Take me away from this torture" the visit from the angels? had already stopped by this time. I fely my confidence in god leave as well. So it all fell on deaf ears. By the time i was 14, i had lost my virginity, was smoking cigarettes , dabbling in drugs, and contemplating suicide. And the angels never came back. but i hear the other ones sometimes, the dark ones.....whisperig on the wind, laughing and taunting.

And that is my story