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What If's

Guardian angels: many of us believe in them, and even more have simply heard of them. But do they truly exist? A question thought of by most, and believed to be answered by many. But when your angel is assigned to you upon your birth, it is the children who figure out the truth before anyone.

“Higher! Higher!” the little girl screeched happily to the ghostly man behind the swing set. His smile illuminated his young face with a warm glow. He kindly obliged with a guiding shove.
The girl replied with a squeal of laughter as she went higher into the air. “I’m gonna jump!” she yelled to what seemed like to everyone around her as the wind. The girl’s mother barely looked up at the girl and resumed her conversation with the other mothers.
Just as the girl said she would, she jumped. But her swing set venture took a turn for the worse as soon as her bum left the seat. She flew outward heading for the ground face-first.
The angel swung into action and gently grabbed the girl’s arm, swinging her around. The simple motion shifted the girls landing so that she landed unharmed on her feet. Her feet gave out and she fell forward, catching herself with her little hands.
“Anything but graceful…” the angel murmured to himself.
The girl pulled herself up with an expansive grin on her face. She pushed her big bushy mane of blonde curls over her head and out of her face.
“Easy there, Kiddo…We don’t want to relive the monkey bars incident again, do we?” The girl giggled in response and ran up to the angel giving his upper leg a gripping hug. He patted her head and nudged her away.
“It must look weird to the other humans…” he thought to himself with one fleeting glance at the women sitting on the bench.

It’s true...it would look weird to others, for the only one who can see your guardian angel is yourself. Rarely do children understand why the angel is there or who it truly is, but for the most part, love their presence. More often than not, adults will wave their child’s beliefs off as an imaginary friend.

The teenage girl pulled her bushy blonde hair back into a messy pony tail as she waited for the crosswalk light to turn green.
Blink.
The red hand switched to show a green person in mid-stride. Here was her chance. She walked out into the street and looked up at the city around her. As she passed the first car, she made eye contact with a man across the street. He looked to be in his mid twenties, still young, and was leaning against one of the shop windows. He looked like a completely normal man: just a regular stranger. But he looked deadly familiar.
The man broke eye contact by looking at the cars next to her and their angry drivers. The girl stared on. “Who IS this man? And why do I feel like I’ve known him for years?”
Finally, the drivers lost their patience and honked their horns at her. The girl jumped, breaking contact, and reached to fix her purse strap before walking the rest of the way across the street.
She turned to look at the man, but he was no longer there. He had disappeared as if like a ghost. The girl stood for a minute, still genuinely confused, but soon continued on her way home.
The angel pulled out of the nearest ally and watched the girl move through the crowd. He followed loyally, never loosing sight of her, and once again made himself scarce: just like he had for the past twelve years.

Unfortunately, as the children grow older, they pay less attention to that which is harder to see, and focus more on what their parents tell them. Their angels become distant memories to them, and are no longer important to their daily life. But at the same time, they are far more important than anyone would ever know.

The same young woman, now older, sat at a barstool in her apartment with her head resting in her upturned fingertips. Her hair had fallen around her face and now stuck to the trails of tears streaking her cheeks. A bottle of hard liquor, already partially empty, was on the counter beside her.
“I shouldn’t have any more… no matter how stressed I am.” She told herself, and yet her hand still went for the bottle sluggishly.
Before she could reach it, her angel swiped it away. She patted down the countertop with one hand, searching for it, while her head slumped down and rested on her other forearm. While only her hand was searching, the angel tipped the bottle over the sink a few feet away and let the remainder of the liquid poison gush out.
With a practiced swiftness, he replaced the bottle onto the counter just within her reach. She grabbed it and shook it gently. Frustrated, she let the bottle fall from her hand and hit the counter. It fell on its side and tumbled to the side but her angel nudged it just in time to keep it from rolling off the counter.
“I’ve had too much…too much to drink…”
The angel rested his hand on her shoulder comfortingly and shot her a loving glance. The woman’s head whipped up and her eyes met his. Her eyes bugged out of her head at his presence but she soon blamed it all on the liquor.
“Now I’m seeing things…” she muttered to herself but the angel heard and let out a sigh. She looked back at him once and upon seeing him, her head slumped back down on the counter. Moments later, the woman’s snores were heard throughout the room.

To this day it’s hard to decide whether it’d be best for the human to know of their angel’s presence. Some angels decide for themselves and show themselves to their humans. Perhaps it could be a good thing…or perhaps it could be disastrous. Perhaps that’s the worst part of it all…there are far too many what if’s.





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