How Margaret Became An Angel

“Are you there, God? It’s me, Margaret.” Margaret asked the sky.

The sky said nothing back.

There was silence.

Margaret sat, cross-legged, on the usual marble slab in the centre of the graveyard. She tipped her head back and glared at the sky, her hands held cupped before her face. She blinked. And waited.

And the sky kept its silence.

Margaret let out a sigh.

She’d come here nearly every day for the last two years. 

She stood up and looked down at her mother's tombstone.

“Goodbye.” She whispered.

She’d been here for three hours every day for two years, and God had done nothing. Not one miracle. Nothing. Nothing at all. So she was finally ready to give up. No longer would she come here.

She turned away from the tombstone and shuffled slowly out of the graveyard. She brushed her hands thoroughly over her filthy dress and her thinning hair. She dared not look back at the tombstone again. Instead, she looked down at her hands as she walked out onto the main street and started to make her way home.

As she walked down the street, Margaret smiled to herself. This was it. This was the final farewell.

She lifted her eyes and looked high above at the buildings, tall and imposing, filling her vision. They were the only buildings in this city. She’d walked the streets nearly every day and lived here for the past twenty years, and now she couldn’t remember why she’d ever moved here.

The street was so narrow that it was nearly impossible for two people to walk past each other. Margaret walked on the edge of the road, like the many other people she saw around her. She stopped to let a group of men in fine suits past and then continued walking.

The rain started to drizzle and the wind howled. A few drops hit her face and she lifted her hand and turned her face up to the sky, letting the rain run down her neck. The rain brought a freshness to her, and she breathed deeply, filling her lungs with the clean, fresh air. She let her lungs expand then settle again as she stood still, and she let out a sigh.

She glanced around, by now soaked through, as she walked quickly again. The buildings formed a high circle around her, and there was a large open patch in the centre of the road ahead. The air was hazy and the buildings’ edges seemed blurred. Margaret looked at the patch closely.

There was something moving amongst the smoggy air. A thick, dark cloud of smoke was forming, and a chair was already forming above it. Margaret stared intently at it, mesmerized. It continued to form, becoming lower and more solid, until finally, it rested on the floor. It was a dark, comfortable-looking, leather armchair. Then the cloud of smoke started to take shape. It looked like a man, seated on the armchair.

Margaret stood still, not sure what to do. Should she run away? But where? The man had appeared so suddenly, from nowhere. She turned slowly, surveying the buildings, searching for an exit, when the man spoke.

“Hello.” He spoke in a deep baritone. His voice was deep and old, and now Margaret could see his face. It was a man, old and clean-shaven. He had short white hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He looked like a simple old man, and he was wearing clean white clothes with a brown, waistcoat and a bow tie.

“Hello?” Margaret said quietly. She searched the empty road behind her and then looked at the old man once more. “Who are you?”

“I’m God.” the old man replied.

Margaret started. “G-God?” she stammered. She looked at him again, once more searching for an exit. There was none. His eyes were twinkling, and his wrinkled face was lighting up at her shocked expression.

“This is the end of the world.” He said.

Margaret shook her head slowly. “What? Yes, I know. I’ve heard it on the news. But I’m not sure…”

“No one is going to save you now.” The old man said.

Margaret looked into the sky once more and the buildings. The sky was dark and ominous. The buildings were in darkness, and the rain was heavy. Margaret hesitated.

“I don’t want you to run.” The old man continued. “I’m offering you an eternal life.”

Margaret looked at him, then fixed her eyes on the narrow open space behind him.

“What do I have to do?” She asked.

“Just stop running. Stop walking away. Stop running from me.” The old man paused. “Just be here with me. That’s all you have to do.”

Margaret paused.

“Why now? What’s happening now?” She asked. She could feel her heart racing.

“It’s the end of the world.” The old man replied. “The final judgment day. This is the end.”

A tear rolled down Margaret’s cheek, and she stumbled forward. The old man stood up and stood to meet her. She fell into his arms, and he held her for a long moment.

“Come with me.” He said, in a low, hushed tone.

And Margaret nodded. He gestured to the small open patch in the middle of the road, and they walked hand in hand, timidly, to the patch of land. The old man kneeled down and picked up a handful of dirt and threw it out into the air.

Margaret watched as the dirt floated into the air, forming a mist. There were sparks, darting and shooting through the smog and mist. They shot downwards, and the air began to shimmer, and the light started to solidify. The bits of dust, mud, and debris formed into a man. His skin was very pale and his face was covered in sweat and tears.

“What is this?” Margaret exclaimed. She gazed at the man as it must have been hard to believe.

“This is you.” The old man replied. “You’ll be like this forever. For eternity. I will save you from your demons and from death itself.”

Margaret opened her mouth to speak but shut it again. She looked once more into the middle of the street, and then at her reflection in the ground. For the first time, her face was traced with age, and her skin was lined with wrinkles. Her eyes were red, purple, and puffy. Her thin hair hung in front of her face like shards of glass as the light brushed across her.

She closed her eyes. “This is who I am.” She said.

The old man smiled. “Yes. You’ve accepted this. And now you’ll be with me.”

The old man put his arm around her and pulled her towards him.

“Come with me.” He whispered.