Felled By Envy

I do not agree with the words pride cometh before a fall.  Maybe envy or greed, but not pride.  Because, if you were truly proud of who and what you are, then you would be content and never reach for more.  Not many fall with both feet planted on the ground.

Born from light and named after the first star in the morning, I had thought I was His favorite, the last of his created angels.  We were beings of light and energy, giving pieces of ourselves to create new stars at His bidding.  How fitting that a piece of myself is now giving life to the very things that would be my downfall.  

I had thousands of years basking in my uniqueness as His last angel, but I was not His last creation.  So many new forms of life in such a short time: beings that swam in the sea, flew through the air, and walked on the land.  Yet, it was the last creation that threatened me most.  Humans, he called them.  We were not made in His image.  We do not have fingers to touch with, eyes to see with or ears to hear with.  We were no longer the favored children, and I was no longer special for being the last.  The rest of heaven rejoiced, but I despaired.  

Like a child with a new toy, He did not have time for his angels, only His new look-a-likes.  Most of us did not show any strain from the neglect, choosing to accept the new children as brothers and sisters instead of replacements.  However, my envy only grew.  Slowly, I realized I was not the only forlorn angel feeling cast aside.  Nine in number, we began meeting secretly.  Each of us burned to be the center of His attention again, for what were we without Him?  If only there was some way to show that these new creations, these new humans, were faulty, then maybe we would be His again.

My part in the plan was simple, and I thought I had implemented it without an error.  I befriended the female human, gained her trust and led her astray.  I had thought her so stupid for reaching for what she did not deserve.  The human had done nothing to earn His attention so why would she be worthy of His knowledge.  I had failed to realize that the same flaw I was trying to condemn her for was my own flaw as well.  He did not fail to see it.  As punishment, the nine of us were cast down, forced to live as those we had tried to prey upon.  We learned new words for the new sensations we felt.  Some were good: love, tenderness and pleasure.  Others were worse: pain, suffering, death.  

Because of my part in tempting the woman, I was reformed in her image.  But while she aged and eventually died, I did not.  None of the nine did.  We learned to enjoy our new existence.  We were no longer angels, but we were special and thought we were blessed in our own way.  We had children and we loved them.  We even learned to love the humans through them.  But He had given us more in punishment than we had realized.  I gave birth to my son one hundred years after my fall.  I buried my son fifty years later.  That was an experience I wish on no one, even a human.

Once upon a time, I lived for Him.  Then I lived for another him.  Now I live for them, the people who are like me.  If only you knew how well you had it before, I sometimes tell myself.  I did not have darkness with which to compare light or evil to balance out the good.  The nine will not let anyone else be able to use the same excuse.