“Luiza! Mark!” her words flew over the loud streets.

Her once red ponytail fought for its right to hang loose now embracing her small, skinny face;  her green eyes seamed flooded  behind the thin round glasses and her bloody lips nested in between her teeth after she shouted yet again the both names.

From time to time she would take the phone up to her ear to ask if they found them. She wished she’d at least knew how to ask for help. Soon enough she found herself lost among all of those curious (or not) almond eyes. She was really regretful of the moment she decided to make this trip so far away from home.

She could barely breath and her heart was about to stop but she forced her legs to keep on going. She needed to find Luiza and Mark…

The white strips on the asphalt had no significance for her any longer, nor did the flashy lights on the traffic light that she ignored completely.

The fiery red color owned its right to shine brightly when she stepped outside the sidewalk. A long sharp horn froze her, sinking her legs deep into the hard-stoned ground. She closed her teary eyes; a sudden flick and a nice cozy warmth took over her entire body. There was no pain…

“Is this what death feels like?” she asked herself but she couldn’t find the courage to open back her eyes.

She took a deep breath and that sweet floral scent made her wonder if that was the smell of the angels. The heat was taking her over until small sweat drops started forming on her forehead.

“Gwayn-chan-seum-ni-gga?”

Finally she slowly opened up her eyes. She froze: two wonderful dark beads stared at her. And that deep voice that just asked something … it really didn’t mattered what right now.

Soon enough she regained control over her own body and once she felt her long fingers grabbing tight on the light blue coat she understood and thanked God she was still on Earth. She quickly blinked away some stubborn tears that gathered around her eyes so she could now stare back. The owner of the black beads could’ve easily pass as one of the angels above: his black eyes, white skin and really red lips completed anybody’s image of an angel.

She merely was able to hum a soft “Thank you” but the smile that followed turned her numb once again and any pain that she might’ve felt was long forgotten.

“Are you OK?” the question came again… this time in English.       

“Mhm…” she succeed saying instead of a “yes”. “T… thank you…” she had some difficulties unclogging her clenched fingers on his coat and accepting his helping hand.

They both got up shaking the dust off of their clothes.

“Oh, are you hurt?” he suddenly asked when a red stain from her  white sleeve caught his eye.