My father got a haircut the day my brother died. He was always saying how much he needed to cut it, but I never understood why my brothers death resulted in him actually taking action. And I have always been angry with him because of that. Maybe it was just his way to cope, but it irked me beyond comparison. I have not spoken to him since that day, since I realized that I needed to get away. I guess part of myself blames me for my brothers death, and for my fathers reaction. After all, if I never asked my brother to drive me to school, he may still be alive. The therapist said it was only natural for me to blame myself, but he also said that angels aren’t real. Which is how I knew he was lying. My brother told me a story on the way to school that day, a story I vowed never to forget. He stated that angels, no matter how high up on the ladder they are, are extremely selective. When I asked him what he meant, he smiled and said they look deep into a persons soul. But this only happens when a person is on the verge of death. He told me that when people are dying, they give the most hope to the person with the purest heart. Their hope is what saves the chosen. He added that when the angels select the chosen, they whisper a secret that only the chosen will know. This secret is what helps the chosen people live. When I questioned him as to how he knew this, he divulged that he was once given a secret, yet he never told me when his secret was bestowed by the angels. All he revealed was that he never forgot it. And he trusted me to keep his angel story a secret until the time was right and I could recite it for others to hear. I was agreeing when the truck t-boned our car. I never recalled anything of the crash. I was told however, that I received the more serious injuries. The professionals assumed that I would be dead within the day. They were wrong. I woke up and my brother was the one who died. The authorities kept questioning me about the crash, but I could never remember it. What I could remember was a bright, white light and a harmonious voice whispering to me. But I never told them this. My brother was right, the angels gave me a secret that changed my life. The angels secret helped me get away and start again. But only now, three years later, do I realize that I was not the only one given a secret. So on the anniversary of my brothers death, I got a haircut.