Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction Group 3 - 2017 | Page 137

I could still remember, the times we spent when we were alone secretly, looking out from the tent and into the sky.
The times when we escaped the camp, through short but the best times of my life. We searched for a place that would
belong only to us, that was peaceful and painless. That was what we yearned for; but I never told him, I had already
found that place- his heart.
Dazed, I trailed my fingers over the bell. Engraved on the bell, was the name Ozamu Dazai - the angel who saved me
from hell, who healed me from my pain, who sacrificed himself for me in exchange for my life.
He is my angel, my angel Raphael.