Kann mir jemand helfen? - Michael (fortidsemne)

If one listened really close, you could hear rapid, labored breathing, as if whoever these sounds came from, couldn't really get enough air. Hiding in a big cardboard box that was situated in the middle of a narrow alleyway, up against one wall, sat a small boy. He looked to be six, maybe seven years old, and was shivering slightly from the cold - but the reason for his breathing pattern were the tears that continually flowed down his cheeks. Where other kids would have been loudly crying, sobbing like this, no such sound left his throat. It never had - even as a baby he hadn't been able to cry with any proper sound. He had always been mute, and he still was, as he sat there, crying, with barely a sound to it, shivering in the cold and trying to rub some warmth back into his legs.

The clothing hid it, but he had quite a few bruises on his arms and torso, from the last time he'd been beaten up in the orphanage, which had been just three hours prior to this. He'd been beaten up for 'scaring the other kids' - and he didn't even know what he'd done wrong! One moment he'd been happily playing by himself in the corner, the next second, he looked down at a photo-realistic drawing he'd just made, on whatever had been closest as the time - which had been the wall. this had happened to him numerous times before, and he just couldn't help it! And when he tried to sign to the adults, they barely even looked at him. So he might as well not even be there, at all, since they wouldn't pay him any attention... That, and the beating, had finally caused him to flee, jumping out of the window of his room and then he'd just been running and running, until... Until he broke down, here, in this alley, where he chose to try to hide from the world in this box.

Outfit

The snow covered the concrete with a thin layer, making the evening seem slightly lighter. He had just finished an interview with someone regarding a murder and was now walking towards the apartment he'd rented. He didn't work with the police on the case. There had been circumstances around the murder that lead him to believe that it was the doing of something supernatural, so if he could take down the monster before the police got hurt, it was much preferred.

He stopped at the end of a narrow alleyway, listening to the sound of rapid breathing. It sounded much like someone crying, except he wasn't able to distinguish a voice. He couldn’t see anybody, but as he stepped closer to the sound, he realized it came from a cardboard box. He walked towards it, only to find a young boy sitting there with his arms wrapped around his legs, shivering from the cold. “Hey,” he greeted in a soft voice, before he kneeled in front of him. He looked at him with an endless compassion, feeling his heart break at the sight of him. “Es ist okay. Ich werde dich nicht verletzen, (It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you,)” he assured him. His tears told him that he was frightened, and he glanced down at him to see if he had any visible injuries, before he looked back at his face. He lifted up his hand to manipulate the temperature, heating the air inside the box. “Wie heißt du? (What’s your name?)” he asked, sending the boy a calm smile. He didn't expect him to follow a stranger, at least not in the state he was in, so it was important to establish some sort of trust beforehand.

Valentin had been trying to keep his breathing under control, trying to get warmth back into his body, too, but both things were failing, and he hid his face in his knees, his tears soaking through the fabric. He was so consumed by his emotions that he did not notice anybody else was there, until a man suddenly poked his head in to his little box, and he froze, creeping together in the corner as a reflex at first. It was probably very clear that he did not have the greatest experiences with adults.

He swallowed, and just looked at the man as he said he wouldn't harm him. For almost a year he had only known adults who used beating as punishment for things he couldn't even help doing. No wonder he was skeptical - but at the same time, he felt a sort of calm settle over him, especially when the air suddenly got a bit warmer. Swallowing, he let go of his knees to start signing back to the guy. Seeing as he'd never been able to talk, he'd been learning sign language at the same speed most other kids learned to speak normally. [Ich heiße Valentin. (My name is Valentin.)] he answered him, in sign. [Wer bist du? (Who are you?)]

He understood the boy’s reaction, why he might be skeptical about trusting adults. He had every right to be cautious. Michael just rested his arms on his knees as he looked at the kid, only wanting him to feel safe. He believed that God had guided him here, that he was meant to be the one finding him. He looked at his hands when he tried to tell him something, immediately realizing that he was mute. He smiled gently as he told him his name. Michael had learned sign language a long time ago and knew it fairly well. He'd met many nonverbal people throughout his life, most of them were kids who’d gone mute after a traumatic event, while others were deaf or couldn’t speak for other reasons. [My name is Michael… I’m an angel] he introduced himself in sign, making his aura shine briefly as he mentioned the word angel. [Do you know about angels?] he asked. He didn’t know whether Valentin was a human or not, but it was often easier for kids to accept the supernatural when they met it for the first time than it was for adults. [Where do you live?] he asked, trying to get an idea of where he came from and if anyone would be looking for him. He wasn’t going to bring him back, before he knew why he was here in the first place. For all he knew, the reason wasn't a good one.

Valentin's eyes carefully looked over the man - especially his expression. So full of compassion... Miles away from how the adults at the orphanage usually looked. They almost always looked irritated. But, a small, soft, yet nervous smile still showed on his lips when he could see the guy understood sign language. Very few people did, so it was always a huge relief to him when someone actually understood it.

His eyes widened a bit when Michael answered him, though. [An angel? For real?] he had just seen the glow, yes, but... it was still quite something to try to wrap his head around - little did he know he had been born a witch himself. He just knew there had been a lot of problems in his childhood, and that the drawing he make during his blackouts always came true a while later. Why or how, he didn't know. [Yes, I do.] he then signed. [We go to Church every Sunday. I don't really like it, though. I feel weird in there.] he had no clue why, but he always got extremely nauseous in there, especially if he looked at the crosses. He looked away and looked about ready to cry again when he asked about where he lived, but he still answered. [The orphanage three blocks away.]

He smiled at the boy, nodding slowly to his question. He’d always told his daughter that angels were watching over her. He wished all kids got the same kind of protection and comfort no matter who they were. The boy went to church every Sunday, something he deemed sensible for most children. He’d expected him to say he didn’t like it because it was boring, but instead he said it was because he felt weird. He got a slight idea of what that meant, but he had to be sure. [Does it make you feel uncomfortable to be inside the church?] he asked. He knew that he wasn’t a demon, he’d sensed that by now, but it indicated he wasn’t a holy creature either. [Have you seen or done strange things that can’t be explained?] he asked. If he wasn’t human, he knew there was a chance he’d already discovered this part of him.

He noticed the change of expression when he asked him where he lived. He clearly didn’t have many pleasant memories about the place. It made him suspect that he’d run away on purpose. [Do you not want to go back home?] he asked. If the orphanage was only three blocks away, he wondered why nobody had come to look for him, making Michael look down the street for anyone to call the kid’s name, but he heard nothing. He then looked back at the boy, wondering how long he’d been out here.

Valentin did seem to calm down a bit more when Michael did, in fact, confirm that he was an angel - he did know enough about angels to know that you weren't supposed to be afraid of them, and that they were usually there to help, after all. At least that's what the priest always said.

He bit his lip and nodded when the angel asked if it made him feel uncomfortable to be in there. [Especially if we sit near the cross. It sort of hurts to look at.] he signed. He'd always gotten scolded for that, being told he should be a good boy, and that good boys would look at the cross when the priest told them to, or when they prayed. He widened his eyes a bit when Michael asked about strange occurrences, though - since he, of course, hit the nail right on the head there. Slowly, carefully, he nodded. [The adults say I'm lying... But I swear, things have moved without me touching them, before... And... other stuff.] he didn't even know how to explain his blackouts, after all.

When he asked if he didn't want to go back, Valentin looked down again, but still did sign. [They're not good people,] and slowly, carefully, he pulled his sleeves up a little, which showed the bruises all over his wrists.

Michael looked thoughtfully at the young boy, almost confident that he was a witch. [That’s completely normal for some species] he assured him. He certainly wasn’t alone in this, but it seemed like he didn’t know why he felt this way. It was naturally the consequence of being surrounded by humans. [It’s not your fault, it’s just how some people were created] he signed, further explaining that he shouldn’t feel misplaced for this reason. He nodded slowly when he explained that things had moved without his touch, only confirming his suspicion. [Like magic?] he asked, sending him a friendly smile. If anything, it was about time he knew about the supernatural beings of the world.

He tilted his head with sadness in his eyes, looking over the bruises on his wrists. [I’m so sorry] he signed before he looked back into his eyes. He wanted to protect him from those people, but he also knew he couldn't do that unless he adopted him. [You’ve done nothing to deserve that] his expression was quite serious. He knew that the boy probably believed this, but it couldn't be further from the truth. The way they treated him wasn't fair.
He knew that talking about it, only reminded the child of those unpleasant memories, so he decided to change the subject. [Are you hungry? I can order you a pizza] he suggested, sending him a careful smile. He wanted to give him shelter, to make sure he was taken care of - especially since it didn't seem like anyone was looking for him.

Valentin looked up at the man, head tilted slightly to the side as he signed. Species? What did he mean by that? Like... Were there other things than angels and humans? And which ones would there be, then? Of course, he'd been told stories about a lot of supernatural creatures all throughout his life, but he thought he'd known most of them to not be real, at least from what the adults said... Was that a wrong assumption, then?

When the angel asked if he meant it was like magic, his eyes widened slightly, and he nodded, rather wildly - yes, it was exactly like that! It was really the only word he could think of that accurately described it. But... Magic wasn't supposed to be real, was it? [But they all say magic isn't real...] he then signed, and it was pretty clear just how confused all of this was making him.

When Michael signed that he had done nothing wrong, Valentin just looked down at his dirty sneakers, and then to the bruises - even his dad, when he was alive, had never shown any real interest in him, basically ignoring him whenever he could... And now he was with adults who beat him up whenever they could. No wonder he did think he deserved those beatings and was supposed to be able to control his blackouts. But true enough, the change of subject did get Valentin into a better mood - at the very least, Michael quickly caught his attention again when he spoke about food. His stomach rumbled at the thought - he hadn't eaten since yesterday. [Thank you. I'm really hungry] the almost frantic nature of his signing, coupled with the rumbling of his stomach did portray that, too.

Michael smiled at the boy’s reaction, knowing that it most likely meant he was a witch. Sometimes it was hard to believe things until you experienced it yourself and humans were blind to most things in the world. [Magic is very real] he assured him. [But it requires a lot of training and you should always be cautious about using it] he added. It was very important that he remembered this. Magic was very powerful and often dangerous – one of the reasons many witches turned to the dark side. [Does these magic incidents happen randomly or when you do certain things?] he asked, trying to get a better idea of how they could prevent them from happening in the future. At least as long as he still lived at the orphanage.

He followed his gaze to his dirty sneakers, seeing that he’d probably gotten told bad things about himself all his life. The change of topic seemed to be the right call and Michael’s smile widened as he heard the boy’s stomach rumble. [Great] he signed, before he got up on his feet and took off his jacket. Placing it gently on the boy’s shoulders to keep him warm while they walked. He looked down the alley, breathing out a cloud of damp air before he started walking towards a diner. He looked at Valentin, smiling at the way the bottom of his jacket brushed against the snow on the ground. Inside the restaurant, he walked over to a booth and sat down. A waiter came over to ask them what they’d like and Michael ordered a pizza for them to share, a hot cocoa for the kid and a water for himself. As the waiter left, he returned his gaze to the boy with a friendly smile. [What are your interests?] he asked.

Valentin looked up at him with wonder in his eyes - the type of wonder you only ever really saw in children. Could it really be true? Was it actually magic and not just weird coincidences as some of the adults had tried passing it off as, before punishing him for what they thought were lying about doing stuff himself? Things had been broken, moved around without him touching them and he was always blamed for it.

[I don't really know how they happen. They just do, sometimes. Sometimes when I dance or draw some stuff. Or play a bit of music.] it seemed to him to be at random times, although it did seem that some of the symbols he drew sometimes, did certain things, as did a few of the small, simple tunes he could play on the flute, but he hadn't dared to really test it out for fear of being beaten up again.

Carefully, Valentin got back up to a stand when Michael did, brushing off the worst of the dirt from his pants and hoodie - then looking up at Michael with gratefulness painted all over his features, feeling the warmth of the jacket the angel laid on his shoulders, pulling it in tighter around his small frame before following the angel, already trusting him a lot more than he trusted anybody back at the orphanage.

Once they were inside the diner, and Michael had chosen a booth, Valentin climbed up into his seat, and then just looked around for a bit, legs dangling freely off of the edge of the seat. He turned his gaze back to the angel when he noticed he was signing again. He got his hands out from beneath Michael's jacket to sign back at him. [Drawing and music. And I like when we take walks in the forest, sometimes.] which was very much opposite to a lot of the other kids, who hated when they had to be outside. Valentin almost knew nothing better than to just be surrounded by the trees and plants of the forest, he felt right at home out there.