The Angel in the corner.

Dr Henry tapped his pen rhythmically against his hard wood desk, the way he always did when trying to rationalise a particularly unsettling case. He scanned his eyes around the room, as if searching for inspiration amongst his degrees and certificates, but they only seemed to turn their noses obnoxiously, no real help now.

He had witnessed a lot in his years as a psychiatrist, but this particular case had knocked the wind out of his lungs. Once the door had closed on the first session, Henry had found himself doubled over and fighting for breath that wasn't there. It took him a moment to regain himself, and after smoothing down his crumpled tweed and wiping the beads of perspiration from his forehead, he had slumped down in his armchair and let the cool leather calm his mind.

Henry considered how he had always been a man of science. His opinions were based purely on fact, and until this day, he had never really felt challenged on them. Shaking hands picked up his notebook, he was sure it was heavier now and it threatened to escape his grasp. Page by page Henry read over the facts as he always did, only instead of filling him with the familiar security he had gotten used to, they only birthed a sense of dread.

He thought back to that day at the cafe, trying to come to terms with the idea of it all being real. It was twenty two years ago, and he remembered it like yesterday.

He never noticed them when he entered the cafe, he was a hungry fifteen year old who's sole intentions were on a consuming a ridiculously large burger. He came there for solace really, although he found that hard to admit.

They approached his table as he was using his last chip to mop ketchup from his plate, their overly masculine belly laughs echoing around the room and causing unwanted attention. Henry stole a glance at these intruders, their demeanor fitting their appearance like a cork fits a wine bottle. His eyes quickly scanned the pair, one much shorter than the other. Bald heads, football shirts, a bulldog tattoo on the bigger ones arm. They took a seat opposite. Henry was taken aback by this, generally Brits kept themselves to themselves, and this sort of intrusion made him very uncomfortable. Still, he took another sip of lemonade and kept his head down.

'Alright, lad?' The voice was gruff and unwelcoming, and Henry wished he still had the table to himself. A few awkward seconds ticked by, made only more prominent by the far too loud ticking of the wall clock heard over the now apparently silent diner.

'Maybe he's a mute. You a mute lad? Ay' one of the men apposite banged his fist on the table and sent the salt shaker tumbling promptly off it. Henry didn't like confrontation.
'No, I'm not. Sorry lads, I was in a world of my own' Henry looked up at the men opposite properly for the first time, beckoned a small nod towards the waitress and flashed a grin.

The man let out a belly laugh. 'Been there.. been there myself kid.' His smile made Henry feel slightly sick. It was too familiar. 'Listen lad, you seem like a nice kid so today might be your lucky day.' Henry mentally rolled his eyes, thinking of the crime shows he watched regularly. He'd let them have their best shot happily, but he wasn't one to let go of his money at the best of times.
'Today kid, because I'm feeling generous, you can make a wish. Anything you want. You'll think I'm talking fairy bollocks here and that's fair enough but all I'm saying is you'll get your wish. You could be a millionaire, Imagine that.' Henry thought the men must be high on something. He thought briefly about his response, not wanting to be socked one.

'Nothing is ever free, I've already learned that lesson.' Henry thought of the loan sharks and bailiffs that plagued his childhood.
'No your right there, nothing is free. But it's about value kid. How much is this request worth for you?' Just make your wish and get on with your life. When the time is right repayment will be made. Something you might not even miss. Simple.'
Henry was getting annoyed, this was stupid.
'Right, and what would repayment happen to be? my kidney?' That belly laugh again. It went right through him.
'Who knows kid, could be anything. Anyway, there's got to be something you want badly enough for a gamble?' Henry didn't have to think hard about this. There was something he wanted. Badly. It wasn't to become a millionaire.

Henry had cared for his mother since he was ten years old, and more than anything he wanted her to be better. He wanted to see life in her broken soul again.
'Well yeah of course, everyone wants something.' Henry shrugged, these guys were bothering him now and he wanted to order a milkshake in peace.
'Well there you are then. We'll leave you to it. Nice to meet you Henry. Shake a man's hand to seal the deal?' The bigger man extended his hand across the table to Henry, and Henry shook it.

He didn't call it a miracle when his mother got the all clear a year later, he called it science and medicine. That day at the cafe barely entered his mind.

When his little girl Erin got a terminal diagnoses at ten years old he nearly lost his mind, but he still rationalised it as the cruel twists of life. He never considered he had made a deal with the devil. When he sobbed into her giant blue and yellow rabbit Luigi he did so because he believed in his heart that she wouldn't live on in an afterlife, and that saddened him. He found no solace in prayer as his wife did.

It was only at her funeral, when he turned his tear filled eyes towards a Robin perched on a branch just above him, and saw two familiar faces and one familiar bulldog tattoo standing on the outskirts of the cemetery when he began to question the events from all those years earlier, and a he was hit like a brick wall with the strongest sense of guilt.

But it was on the day of his first session with Rebecca King that he really realised he knew absolutely nothing about the world he lived in, and that terrified him to his core.

It was exactly 3pm on a Thursday and Henry was trying his best not to be annoyed that his next patient wasn't already sitting in front of him, and would now most likely be at least five minutes late. When she entered the room she did so so quietly that Henry didn't hear her.
'Excuse me, I'm here for a session with Dr Henry Miller.' Henry turned to acknowledge the woman, and promptly reached his hand out to shake hers. She was small in stature and mousy looking. After a rather week handshake Henry beckoned towards the armchair opposite his.
'Have a seat Rebecca.'

Rebecca tearfully recounted how she has been repeatedly visited by the ghost of a small child. Although she can not see this child, she hears her voice in her head. This case had been passed on to Henry to give his professional input as to which mental illness this woman was suffering from, and how to best help her.

'She first came to me out of the blue, and asked me if I knew where her rabbit was. I thought I was bat shit obviously. This little girls voice was in my head as clear as day.' Henry began to go through his usual questions and jot down anything important in his note pad.
'Did you speak back to her Rebecca?' She shook her head.
'Not at first, no. I didn't want to feed into it, at first I tried putting a film on, or my headphones, but it was useless, she was louder than anything else and she drowned it all out. She spoke to me about silly things at first, she told me she was ten years old and loved Disney. She would tell me her favourite ice cream was strawberry, or ask me if I'd seen this TV show or that TV show. She'd tell me how she missed playing with her old friends, even though she had new ones now. It was when she told me about the Angel I couldn't help but answer her. '

Rebecca set her water bottle down on the table, and rested her palms on the edge to stop them shaking.
'Angel? ' Henry questioned, leaning forward with sudden intrigue.

'Yes, she said she had an angel. She told me she sat in the corner of her room for two weeks before she took her. She said she was afraid at first because she had these huge black wings and she never spoke, just sat there quietly staring.' Henry furrowed his brow.
'Did she say anything else about this angel? 'Not much more, but she said she missed Luigi.'
She shifted in her seat.
'And who's Luigi?' Henry asked.
'Her giant stuffed rabbit. He's blue and yellow and sits in the corner of her bedroom.' Henry Millers heart found a new location in his throat.
'This little girls name, do you know it Rebecca?' 'Yes, it's Erin.'

Henry suppressed his dry heaves until the end of the session. Was it a coincidence? There must be more than one Erin who had a stuffed rabbit called Luigi and passed away at ten years old. Or Was this some sort of sick joke? He had never met Rebecca before in his life, he would have remembered.

The night was drowned in a sea of whiskey and misery, and as Henry dozed in his office armchair, wondering if his professional career would still be intact for much longer, he first saw the Angel.

In his drunken state he wondered if she was a hallucination, or a physical manifestation of his stressful day. Her wings were a black unlike any shade he had seen before. Almost as if he stared for too long he might fall into them, into nothingness. They seemed to create their own ripples of silver movement in the air as the walked. She was beautiful and terrifying, and he both fell in love with her and despised her all at once.

'Henry, it's alright. Don't be alarmed.' her voice was cracked and raspy, as if she desperately needed water.
'Your daughter found you despite my warnings. She wanted you to know that what happened to her is not your fault, that's all, she wanted you to know her fate was already written'
'Who are you?' Henry slurred.

'I'm Lucifer, and I'm not the one who made that deal with you. I don't reside in a pit of fire and I am not evil. I collect the souls and I keep them safe until they're where they're supposed to be. I have no power to make deals even if I had wanted to.' Henry, still sluggish, let the situation wash over him.

'Henry, you made the biggest sacrifice for your mother that day. He knew what you were willing to trade without you even saying it. He sees what's in our souls, and he saw the sadness in yours, and he offered a way out. A soul for a soul. Henry you shook hands with God that day. '

Henry reached for the whiskey glass on the table and took one last swig. The world he had come to know had changed in an instant.

The angel opened her wings and swept Henry up in them, as an Eagle would its prey. As he was carried out of his chair, he let the weightlessness fill his body and the warmth wash over him. Henry glanced down at the shell of himself he left behind on that armchair, the gun in his hand one bullet down, and the heart shaped pool of blood forming on the floor.