when all I'm left are memories of you ... she looks at me, mad, angry and confused. Humans tend to think there is a vile conspiracy among angels when disaster strikes - an orphan would certainly think that. So I tell her the truth - we don't get to choose who lives and who dies but yet our every move, our every decision is always judged.
And the judgement is loud and clear, the screams of the abyss rings in my ears now, day and night ... till I leave well alone what is not mine.
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