An Angel. Sent from Heaven, to protect all of man kind. An Angel, to be pure. But my Angel is far from this description. It was indeed sent from God, to protect. But protect it does not. It is not pure. This Angel, this messenger from Heaven, has not protected me. It has not kept me form being hurt. It watches me writhe in pain. See's into my soul. It watches, mocking me in my time of need. But it has made me stronger. But it has made me stronger. Not by intention. But by watching me suffer. By seeing me cry. By causing me pain. By NEVER protecting me. It has made me so strong, so independent.