There was nothing I wanted more than to see that boy again. He was hard to see already through the black glass. He banished me away every time I tried to speak with him. And every time; I left. He seemed to always be in a mad mood. I wasn't there for more than a minute before he told me to go away.

Everyday, I would wake up. Always in the same spot, always in the same scene. It's hard to think about the fact I'm dead. I felt my chest. It doesn't jump. I no longer had a pulse. I could breathe in and out but it would make no difference.

I can feel things. The same senses still worked. The most strangest thing was I didn't have a beating heart. The throbbing sensation didn't exist for me.

Right now, I walked through the marble path, to the boy once again. I found myself going there every time I woke up. I didn't even go where he always told me to go. He kept saying: "Go where the Angels fly. It's where you belong."

But never once did I listen.

Something told me I shouldn't. Maybe it was my non-existent heart, or my state of mind. Something beyond the white fluff seemed odd to me.

The strange boy and I don't talk. If I sat right next to the wall and stared, I wouldn't make any conversation. I liked to analyze him. Though it was hard with the dark wall, it was fascinating to see his unique features. They were very interesting to me.

I pressed my hand against the wall. I always find myself doing this. The wall was very cold and the boy often leaned against it.

"Why do you keep coming back? Go with the Angels. You shouldn't stay here." he said once again. I wanted to ask him why he wanted me gone so much but I couldn't find the words to say. He would never answer my questions anyway. I liked to stay and hear him yell at me for some strange reason. His voice was very different than anything I've ever heard before. It was strange how soft it sounded  yet so harsh towards me.

"Angels will never survive if you keep hanging around here." he growls as he gives me a look.

"How come?" I ask softly. My voice was very indifferent from his menacing tone.

"You are an angel; I am not." he says firmly. "Angels will die and never return here. Or you stay trapped here like me." he gives the ground a regretful look.

This is the longest conversation I've ever had with this man.

"May I ask for your name? My name is Haneul." I wait patiently for his reply.

Which does not come. 

I sigh softly as my hand slides off the glass in defeat. I get up to leave and return to my empty home of white. But just before I leave, I hear him laugh softly.

"That's funny. Even your name means Heaven."

And I swore his laughing was the best thing I've ever heard in my life.