Angels are gone.

She sat in silence, her eyes closed, looking as if she were sleeping. Marek gazed raptly at her innocent face and delicate eyelids. She heard his breathing and opened her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. Sad eyes gazed at the boy indifferently. A million thoughts raced through her mind, but she couldn't find the right one. She didn't know what to say, and after a moment, in her angelic voice, she whispered,

"Hug me!"

But Marek didn't move, stood still, and continued to stare at Monika. His gaze became stern and angry. The girl's heart sank under his influence. She knew she had hurt someone's feelings, dealt the blow that hurts the most.

"It's all your fault!" Marek almost shouted.

His voice was serious, but there was a tremor and uncertainty in it. He frowned, and his eyes became expressionless. Monika couldn't read anything in them. She had anticipated the worst, but deep within her soul, a seed of hope clung to her. Hope that kept her going through sleepless, painful nights and lonely winter evenings. Ever since she broke up with Marek, she hadn't been able to live normally. He was like oxygen to her, like water to a withering flower, like wings to an angel. For Marek, Monika was the most important thing; wherever she was, the sun shone. He called her his angel, his light. They seemed inseparable.

A fire flickered faintly in the fireplace, fading away just like hope. They didn't have to say a word; everything seemed clear against the darkened room. In such a situation, absolute facts mattered, and feelings, promises, and desires faded into the background. Monika had betrayed him. In the heat of the moment, alcohol, and a surge of negative emotions, she had ruined her life for him.

She had never been sensible. Marek often compared her to an angel. She was as scattered as wings, yet as beautiful and innocent as an angel. But that was precisely why he loved her. Monika often got into trouble, and Marek, like an invisible hand, helped her escape, and they were together again in heaven.

When they achieved some success, they felt proud. Both were delicate and sensitive. Fate brought them together, they knew life well. They knew the meaning of nights filled with fear, and later, lonely ones. They both grew up in an orphanage. The sandbox, the school desk, the shared room—all of them connected them. After receiving their high school diplomas, their paths diverged. They both wanted to escape from memories, from each other, to start over.

They met two years later. Adults, with plans for the future, but without each other, without their significant other. They went in opposite directions, but eventually their paths converged, and they continued together. They didn't know where they would end, they didn't want to know, they were happy. It seemed that nothing could break the bonds, the thick, invisible cords that connected them. They each had one wing, and to achieve anything, you need two.

For Marek, apologies didn't matter, nor did Monika's regrets or assurances of love, because he felt as if someone had cut off his wing.

Monika was pregnant, but Marek wasn't the father. She didn't want a child, not now, not with another man. She feared she wouldn't be able to be a mother and her child would suffer the same fate as hers.

This time, she wanted to solve this problem herself. Without her other half, she was doomed from the start.

In a primitive clinic, she had an abortion. With the money they'd spent on their vacation together, she'd bought the death of an innocent child.

Now it was over.

Marek spoke bitter words of truth. Thick tears flowed from Monika's eyes. Her lips trembled, her whole body trembled. Through sobs and clenched teeth, she uttered a few incomprehensible words. Deep inside, Marek felt sorry for her; he wanted to sit with her and comfort her, but it was too deep. He'd left forever and hadn't even said goodbye. Monika's tears accompanied him throughout the entire trip. He followed him like an invisible force wanting him to turn back.

Monika withdrew into herself. She considered suicide, but she was both too weak and too strong. A seed of hope, deep within her, kept her alive.

Day after day passed, and nothing changed. The frosty winter quickly turned into a warm spring, which just as quickly passed, leaving a scorching summer. Monika wanted to go away, to forget, but instead she ended up in the hospital. She had been feeling worse for some time. She was weak and resigned, but she thought it was the result of her lifestyle.

She learned she was dying, but it didn't make much of an impression on her. She didn't care. She didn't believe in God, but she felt Someone was guiding her. Her life was unfolding against her will. And now he knew that Someone would once again decide her life. Everything changed when Monika learned that her illness was the result of a botched abortion. She hated herself even more, and that glimmer of hope suddenly vanished from her heart.

Marek learned of Monika's serious condition. Unlike her, he tried to put his life back together but failed. He still couldn't forget. With each passing day, he missed her more and more, still loved her. He loved with all his being. He wanted to return, but his innate pride and stubbornness held him back. He couldn't cope on his own; he lacked the other half who completed him. He realized too late that he had long ago forgiven Monika, and the resentment he felt was not for her, but for himself.

He returned. He went to Monika, and they looked deeply into each other's eyes, and as usual, they didn't need to say a word. They spoke with their eyes. They gazed into each other's souls for a long time, until one of them broke off the "conversation" and closed their eyes. Forever.

Marek couldn't say a word, he didn't even cry. He felt as if a part of him had died. They were a whole that had suddenly fallen apart. For Marek, life had lost its meaning. Always strong and ready to fight, he gave up. He chose the easiest path, to the bottom. He wanted to jump, and he did. He fell for a long time, held back by some force, but he made it. He lacked a second wing to help him soar. Like a wounded bird (angel), he fell and never rose again.

"Angels are gone!" he screamed as he fell.