Shortly after I finished talking to my father, I still had many questions to ask Bree, but she just walked into my bedroom, plopped onto my bed, and pulled the blankets over her self.

She sleepily patted the pillow beside her and muttered, 

"You can either take the sofa, or we can share the bed. I love snuggling with an arm while I--."

I was about to respond to that in defiance, but it was too late. Her eyes were already closed, and she was fast asleep. Her body moved slightly with each subtle breath she took, and she laid there carefree. To me, it looked as if she didn't want to wake up from her dreams, and prayed that the morning never came. 

I guess she must have been exhausted because she forgot to turn off the lights. I clicked my tongue and said,

"You idiot. I had a longer day than you, so how can you knock out first."

When there was no response, I sighed and clapped twice. Every inch of the room was now shrouded in the darkness of the night, and I left the bedroom in silence. As I walked out and closed the door behind me, I thought about what position to sleep in.

If I shared the same bed with her, I might have ended up an one arm paraplegic in the morning, so I opted for the better of the two evils. I then washed up for bed and was now in my pajamas. After retrieving a spare pillow from the closet, I made my way to the sofa and then plopped on to it. I rested my forearm on my forehead and stared at the ceiling. The only source of light that illuminated the dark apartment was the moon, and I only had a thin blanket to cover myself with. Lucky for me it was getting warmer and the cold days of winter had long past. Even so, I couldn't believe that I was treated so horribly in my own home.

I tossed and turned while trying to lie down on the uncomfortable sofa. My head was rested upon a memory foam pillow, and that was the only body part that was in comfort. I was trying my best to find the most comfortable position to sleep in but to no avail.

Out of frustration, I then muttered, "Forget buying her clothes. I'm going to get a new bed for her tomorrow and a new sofa while I'm at it."

After minutes of shifting back and forth, I had decided to give up on the matter. The sofa was simply too uncomfortable to sleep on. I then decided to just reflect on the events of the day and fall asleep naturally.

In the end, my father did not reveal to me everything about the situation. In fact, he only left me with more questions of my own. What were these dark angels that I had to fight, and what did he mean about them stealing people's life spans? Most importantly, why did my father request such a task of me? For the past 18 years, I was under the impression that I was specifically groomed to take over the family business. However, now, my thoughts and what I believed about myself were in disarray.

Even if it wasn't obvious, I knew my father had a more significant reason for placing this task onto me. It could not be as simple of wanting me to have a change of heart. I was a child who was adopted from the third world country of Vietnam, and I always thought my father had adopted me out of altruism. However, reflecting upon the circumstances, I believe that there was more to it. My father told me I was only eight months old when I was orphaned, and that made the adoption process rather easy. 

A child with no parents and no future would be the perfect subject to become being a Death Watcher, I thought.

If was then that I inadvertently answered my own questions, the pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together, and even with little information from my father, I knew that me becoming a Death Watcher was planned. I mean it does not take a genius to connect defenseless orphan to potential Death Watcher. If anything, I was just the most convenient human to use for his families' fight against the dark angels. I already had nothing left in the world at eight months old, and I should thank my father for giving me my current life.

Even so, he is expecting too much of me. I can't fight these dark angels, even with my years of martial arts training. Bree was able to fling me cross the living with ease. By using common sense, that meant that the enemies had to be stronger. I had never lost a fight before, and my body was in peak condition, but I knew that the dark angels would be in a different league. I then raised my hand up towards the ceiling and let the gold bracelet catch the moon's light. 

The golden bracelet on my wrist was the one thing that was preventing me from living a normal life. However, if I thought about more deeply, my father was the reason why I couldn't live a normal life. From the minute that I was adopted, I was already expected to become a fighter and thought of that started to weigh on my mind. 

Was my entire life a lie, I thought to myself,

Even if it was, I couldn't refute my father even if I wanted to. My father provided me a life that I would never have gotten if I stayed an orphan in Vietnam. If Bree had asked me to save these humans, I wouldn't want to do it, but my father was another matter. 

For now, I should just go with my father's request out of obligation. I won't save lives because it's the right thing to do, but rather because its the only thing I can do. 

Accepting my duties as a Death Watcher was the only thing I could do to repay my father's generosity, it was the only thing I could do to prove that I'm worthy as the next heir, and finally, it was the only thing I could do to save my own life.

I then placed my hand on my chest and said, "I guess life's going to be rough for a while."

I let out a yawn, and started to feel drowsy. Before I went to sleep, I remembered that my angel powers were still turned off. If I were going out tomorrow with Bree, I wouldn't want to waste the eight hours of freedom I had while I was asleep. I knew that I couldn't possibly encounter a human with a red life span while dreaming, so I closed my eyes and whispered.

"Lynel"

Even in the darkness, I still saw that flash of red. I then laid there and gradually let myself drift away in the realm of sleep.