Your Guardian Angel

A story of a guardian angel, who guides the dead to hell or heaven. Everyday it's the same people, but one day the guardian angel gets a shocked.

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1. Guardian Angel


 

A  calm cool fresh breeze of wind trails around the room. I look around to see the wind blowing gently, and the tree's dancing like in a trance, like a puppet in a puppet show. Then smile. My white fluffy wings behind me. I watch them in the mirror, looking white, delicate and beautiful. When stories say that angels could fly, they were lying. Angels have wings because, when they had an important thing to do. They could ask god, to turn the wings in to something else. I had wings. I could not fly. But I could float in the air, not because of my wings, but because of God. Being an angel was good; I had been given a chance of living a happy life. Here in paradise, everything was good. Everyone was happy. The sun was always shining. There was no evil here. Everyone was happy, because of God. He had created paradise to create happiness. In paradise, everything was organized. There were series of angels; messengers, superiors, arch angels, regular and the guardian angels. I was a guardian angel, more powerful then a regular, a ordinary angel who did anything, from sort documents, to work in the angel library. Messengers had a little less powerful then guardian angels like me, they retrieved souls from earth and gave them to guardian angels. Who looked after the soul, and guided them on there journey. Superior had more power, they commanded other angels, and worked for God. Arch angels kept the balance between light and dark on earth, and fought important battles. From the souls, some were lucky enough to be given a chance to remain in paradise and be an angel. Being an good angel of God. As long as we did not bring evil, or not do what God tells us. We could stay here, forever.

  I comb my long glossy black hair, my black eyes twinkling with pride. The white tank top, and slim fitted trousers I wore, look good on me, making me look healthy. I let my curtain of long glossy black hair fall on my back, swaying in the breeze. I pick up the locket from my gift box. I hold it tightly to my heart, then clasp it open, look into the beautiful picture. The picture of me, grinning happily into the camera, with my little daughter Akina, smiling happily. A tear drop trickles down my face, and splashes on the picture. The picture had been taken on a day, before I had known I had cancer. I had breast cancer, and it had taken away my whole life. I remember my last day, clearly.

I lay on the hospital bed, the white hospital gown clinging on to me, my black hair sticking up, after not brushing it every day, it badly needed a wash. But I could not be bothered to do anything. I had no strength in my body to walk, not to run, especially to wash. I just about managed to eat, drink and talk. The doctor regularly checked up on me. To see if I was still living, if this body was giving up the fight. I sometimes wished that death would just come to me. I had enough of worrying if I was going to die, enough of troubling all my loved ones. If I died now, they would just cry for a little while, maybe mourn for a few weeks maybe a month. But then they will just forget. They would forget all about me. I would just be another woman losing her battle to cancer. I hated cancer. I hated the fact I could not just die. I wanted to die, so that I could bring peace to everyone. What if I lived for another day? Maybe a week. There was no difference, maybe if I could just die, I would give peace to everyone, and everyone would finally stop crying for me, stop praying for me. Praying is not a really big thing. Just because you are going to pray for someone so that they can get better, does not mean they will actually get better. How many times have you prayed for something to God, just to have your prayer unanswered? Is there really a God. If there was God then why does he cause us a lot of pain and suffering? Does he want us to suffer? I thought the point of God, was to bring everyone happiness. Did he not have the power to end our suffering? Was he just powerless? Maybe if there was a God, he would have healed me by now. He would have mended me. He would have cured my cancer, and destroyed the deadly virus called cancer. God, please tell Akina I am sorry, sorry that I could not be there for her. God, even if you can't heal me, please protect my daughter. Please never let her cry; please bring a ray of sunshine in to her life. Hurt me, I don't care. Just please protect her. I look at the ceiling, wondering about my death. Any day. Any day now. A tear trickles down my face. I don't mind dying, well I do. I would have liked to live a few years longer, and spend some time with my beautiful daughter Akina. The thing I hate the most is, that I will never see her again; she would not remember me when she was older. I wouldn't be there for her wedding, her graduation, her first crush, not even her next birthday. I would not be there when she needed me the most, and I could never tell her I was sorry. Sorry that I was going to die. The doctor had predicted a month ago, that I would have a week maybe two to survive. I had exceeded there expectation by living a few weeks longer, because I was a fighter. I was fighting for every single breath. I was fighting death. I had always wondered. Where do you go after death? Hell or Heaven. I was a devoted Christian, well my parents were and they had always believed in hell and heaven. They had told me if I was good I would go to heaven, if I was bad well I would go to hell. I had always joked around that, I would be a kind of person to hell. But I really did not want to. Really I wanted to stay here, be happy with my family. My beautiful daughter Akina runs in, her warm brown eyes that remind you that she is only seven, her lovely black hair around her face, that bounces as she runs towards me. Her grinning smile that melts my heart. She smiles kindly at me. She is the only reason I keep fighting, because I don't want to let her go from me. Akina holds my fragile hand tightly then sits beside my bed, her eyes meeting mine.

"Hi Mommy" Akina whispers.

"Hi baby, how was school?" I ask, my voice barely a whisper.

"It was good mommy. I had a good time playing with my friend Ally. How are you mommy?" Akina asks.

"I am fine" I lie, my voice aching with strain.

"I know you are not mommy, are you dying" Akina asks, her voice barely a whisper, she looks at me curiously, her eyes wanting the answer to be no.

I did not want to tell her, but it was for the best. If she knew, she would be planned for my shocking death. Akina looks at me, her eyes trembling with fear.

"Yes" I reply.

"Why are you dying mommy? None of my friend’s mommy's are dying then why are you?" Akina asks, looking at me.

"I am so sorry baby, my time is just coming" I answer truthfully, wondering whenever it might be.

"Why mommy? I don't want you to go, I want you to stay with me" Akina cries, tears trickling down her face.

Suddenly my chest hurts, gasping hard to breath. My fingers hold on to the bed, tears splashing down my cheeks, my face reddening.

"Mommy" Akina exclaims in shock, holding my frail fingers tightly.

"I love you" I whisper, gasping painfully with each breath.

My heart tightens. I gasp for my last breath, a firing pain burning in my body, suddenly it stops.

I shake my head from the memory, and clasp the locket tightly around my neck. I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I look beautiful, but the sadness remains in my eye.

"Guardian Anna" a voice exclaims.

I walk out of my room. Suddenly I spot my superior Arian. His shiny coal black hair combed back into a pony tail. His dark black eyes stare into my soul.

"Anna you have been given a new soul to help" Arian commands.

"Yes sir" I mumble.

Arian was one of god's mighty warriors, he had seen god before, and was therefore superior to me. Arian acted like a big shot, but inside he had a heart of a child's. He walked like he was soldier, tall and firm, but I think really he was just afraid of being himself. He acted like he was the best, like he was god himself. What he did not realize that were in gods eyes we were all the same, even him.

"Yes superior sir" Arian corrects, walking off.

I walk towards the hall, where the receptionist Vanessa sits on the desk. Her blonde hair tied to a pony tail, streaks of hair escaping from her pony tails. Her cold ice blue eyes sent shivers down my spine.

"Vanessa the" I begin to say, wondering for the document, that would tell me where I would have to send the new soul. Please be heaven, please be heaven I wished..

"I know the new assignment, here" Vanessa shouts, glaring at me, shoving the document into my hand, she points in the direction of the arrival.

"Thanks" I mumble.

"Whatever" Vanessa replies, going back to paint her already pink polished nails.

I walk towards the new arrival direction. I hated my job, guiding the new souls to heaven or hell. Sometimes it was fun. The arrivals that went to heaven were happy, but the arrivals to hell were cold, horrible, and spiteful to me. I open the document the words hell stamped right in the middle. Poor soul. Suddenly I spot the black haired messenger walking towards me, a young girl holding her hand. The girl looks familiar. Her warm brown eyes that twinkle when look at me, sparkle when finding recognition.

"Mommy" she exclaims in surprise, running towards me.

 

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