You've now officially found I Did Not Fall! If you want to go to some other story, go back to my writing page. If you want to go back to the very beginning of my pages, feel free.


Those other stories were me. This is me having lots of fun while in a strange mood. The style of this story, I think you will find, is a tad little bit different than the others. It's insane. Am I? Hard to say. I try not to ask. Any religious fanatics out there who happened to stumble across my page, I don't recommend this story. You won't like it. Anyone else? Who knows- I hope ya do! Enjoy!



I Did not Fall!



You want to know my story? Well, fine, I'll tell it. But on my own terms. I won't tell it the way you wanna hear it, I'll tell it the way I wanna tell it. I don't know what difference that'll make, but there'll probably be one. We'll see. So first off, I'm not a bad person. Let's get that straight right off. Just cuz I'm not in heaven, I don't think that means I'm evil. I mean, really, I'm not in the Other Place either, am I? I mean, do I look like a minion of Satan to you? Don't you even say it! 'Even a devil can wear an angel's face.' Yeah, yeah. But that still doesn't mean an okay person can't too. Second off, I absolutely did not fall. I don't care what you heard. I didn't fall and if you don't believe me, you can just get lost, cuz I'll just stop talking right here. Okay? No falling.

So how did get down? Not by mistake certainly. Once you're up there it's unbelievably difficult to go down. There's no such thing as a false step. You're on an up escalator. You fall and you're carried back up. I mean you have never seen positive reinforcement like this. Everyone around you knows how great they are and keeps telling you how great you are and what a great job you're doing and you just have to keep going and it'll all work out and everything. And, yeah, they're really nice people. In fact, it goes way beyond really nice to something on the next level. These are people who would take a broken leg for themselves over a splinter in anyone else's toe. These are not rational people we're talking about here. But they are nice. So I most certainly did not take a false step and fall. Instead I had to metaphorically run as fast as I could down the up escalator.

Now the mistake most of them make when they do that is they forget to stop running when they've gotten far enough and hop on the down escalator and by that time are too damn tired to try turning around again. Plus there's the simple fact that once you've gone too far down they'll tear your soul apart before letting you turn back again. Then there's nothing left of you or for you but eternal torment. Or, if you're damned stubborn and just keep it up, absolute destruction of your being. Total nothing. Nobody'll even remember you ever existed. The most terrifying fate of all. To anyone who's lived millions of years, interacted wtih uncounted billions of events, people, and things, the idea of having your existance wiped out in all planes, in all times, past as well as present and future is ... terrifying. Death leaves memories and even being for the soul lives on. Destruction ends all. But that's not important, because I stopped as I'd intended to do all along. I had no illusions. I wouldn't've gotten a high position Down There or anything. Just a lowly new servant. And I didn't even what to be a duke of hell or something anyway. It held not the slightlest appeal for me. I just wanted my own life.

The most freqent question I guess I've been asked is, "Why?" Usually backed by total confusion. Nobody seems to be able to understand why I would want to leave paradise for a poor substitute like Earth. Nobody's really thought about it. Try it. Just think about paradise. Soft, soothing music, mostly harp, mingling with the eternal flower-scented spring breeze, ruffling your full, thick hair, which will hold it's shape without spray, mousse, or gel. The songs of birds complimenting the harps, free and gentle. Landing on your fingers sometimes, and chirping to you. Never dropping bombs on your head, or even your windshield. Endless fields of emerald grass and sweet smelling four-leafed clover, all, incredibly, as soft as it looks, and with no insects hiding in it to attack you. Beautiful, huh? Like a picture. And nothing to do but look about it and talk about nice stuff. Cuz there's nothing else to talk about. No stories or books cuz a story must have conflict and there is no conflict, nor even thought of conflict, there, except by those few who escape the spell. There aren't even any sports, because they foster competition, which is just a milder version of conflict. Think. What do you enjoy doing? Going shopping with friends? No malls and no money. Movies? Same story as with books. No conflict means no movie. Hunting? No violence. Gardening? It'll all grow perfectly and beautifully without you lifting a finger. Joking? Have you ever noticed that most jokes, practical or otherwise, have some hint of cruelty, whether to the butt of the joke or someone in it? There're almost no jokes. Not much of anything funny, in fact. If you do, somehow, get out from under the spell that makes you enjoy everything being perfect, you realize there's nothing to do but eat picnics, watch the sun rise and set (always spectacular, of course) and talk peacfully of unimportant things.

Plus, of course, there's the simple fact that I don't like people. Oh, I like individuals. Sometimes. But people in general I can't stand. They're ... annoying. Not just humans, mind. All people. They're- eurgh, I can't even explain it. They're awful. They just- they get under your skin and find all the buttons to press, and they do it all while just trying to be nice and friendly- and themselves. And you have to just sit there and pretend you don't mind because you're an angel and angel's can't hurt anybody's feelings. Not when they're in heaven, anyway. If they could, they wouldn't be angels and it wouldn't be heaven. What? Well, of course I've tried the mission to Earth stuff! Everyone has! There's a general rotation. And, yeah, in a lot of ways it's better than just being stuck in heaven. Stuff to do, places to see, all that. On the other hand, people are even worse. They whine. Cuz they aren't supremely happy like the ones in paradise. In fact, they're pretty unhappy. Otherwise they wouldn't need an angel. And you have to treat 'em like they don't bring it on themselves. Have to comfort them, and sort out their lives for them. And most of the time, at first, at least, they hate you for it. For not coming sooner, not fixing everything faster- not making 'em millionaires while you're at it. Faugh! Everything you do, you should have done sooner, faster, better. They're horrible!

So, anyway, back on the subject. As I was saying, I wanted out. I was pissed with everyone and I was bored out of my mind. Now I can deal with being pissed off. In the right circumstances it's a lot of fun. But the right conditions generally include someone to complain with, which there rarely was Up There. And I think it's utterly impossible for the correct circumstances to last for millenia on end. Too long and you go crazy and go to far. What people 'round here would call "Going Postal." Then you end up Down There. I have no desire for eternal suffering. Doesn't appeal to me in the least.

I'd seen it happen before and I was not going to let it happen to me. Like I said, suffering is not my thing. So everything I did I judged carefully first. I swore, was rude, purposely hurt people, and generally disrupted the peace. Most of all, I didn't repent. That's the big one, of course. But I didn't do anything that couldn't be fixed pretty quickly if I wasn't there. It was hard, really. I don't particularly care for swearing, I really dislike hurting people, though for the most part I did okay if I focused on the really annoying ones. And I'd been rarely sinning and on those occasions when I did truly repenting for more years than I care to imagine. And I don't mean saying Whoops, sorry 'bout that. I mean really repenting. Being truly upset and miserable. Getting forgiveness from one of the higher powers was never the issue. Forgiving yourself was. So not repenting was the hardest part. But I did it. And slowly, incredibly slowly, I worked my way down. And eventually I was told that I no longer was worthy of my place by a sad-eyed official who obviously felt guilty for some reason.

I was sent off to live life as a mortal. Now the problem is that when you're a mortal who used to not be a mortal you can move up and down the paths far more easily than the average mortal. And you're used to running full-force down, so when the friction stops fighting you, you tend to catapult straight down. You have to even off. Lotta folks can't do it.

Me? I've been doing whatever I like. Travelling. Enjoying life. I can do as I like these days. Heaven doesn't grab anyone before they die. And as for the Other Place... well, I have no desire to do the kinds of things that let them get ya. I occasionally stray to their side of the war, but never far enough for it to do them any good. I'm mortal now. Until I die, I can do as I like. And when I die? Well, maybe I'll go to heaven as one of the brainwashed masses. Or perhaps I'll go the Other way, though I don't think I've done or will do anything that would take me that way. Or maybe, just maybe, there's another place, one I don't know of. A place for thsoe who aren't bad people, but who simply aren't cut out for paradise. That's what I'm hoping for. Somplace not bad but ... interesting....



Thazzit for this one. To look at some other stories, head back to the writing page. Or return to the main page.