Guardian Angel

by Trebus, David

  During her meditations, usually after about ten minutes, she felt a presence near her. It always spoke to her, but she couldn’t make out the words, slightly too quiet to be heard. However, the presence always made Claire feel safe and comfortable. She imagined it was her Guardian Angel watching over her.

  While at work and during the day, Claire went through the routine she required to put food on her table and a roof over her head. She worked with Michael at the publishing firm and, even though the work could be boring, sometimes it did bring a small sense of satisfaction. She wore smart clothing, short skirts (but not indecently so) and blended in with the crowd.

  In the evenings or in her free time, though, Claire practiced altogether more esoteric arts. She was a modern-day Witch. Some people had tried to class her as a “Wiccan” or “Goth” on various forums and occult chat sites, but that had just made Claire laugh. She didn’t believe in female empowerment, wearing black clothing or rituals in graveyards. In fact, she wore a t shirt and jeans during her occult dabbling, and often practiced alone at home.

  Claire practiced spiritualism and attempted magic to enrich her life. She believed it would help find a connection with the universe at large and escape the mundane of a normal life. Deep down, Claire’s choices stemmed from years of loneliness and difficulties.

  Realising her focus had drifted, Claire began a low murmur and tried to bring her meditation back on track. The dream she was trying to replay eluded her, shifting like a snake, just out of reach. Claire became more and more irritated; she did not like being out of control or able to order her thoughts. Her meditation slipped away further as her frustrations grew.

  Her heart quickened again as her feelings rose to the surface, her breathing becoming fast and shallow. Claire began to sweat, but she was shivering at the same time. She knew what was coming but tried her best to push it aside. She was in no mood for her body to throw a temper tantrum.

  “Ohh…no not again, not now…” Claire pleaded.

  She kept her eyes tightly shut as her heart raced as she shook. Panicked thoughts raced through her mind. What if her practice caused something to go wrong? What if she accidentally stepped into the path of a car in the busy London roads?

  She knew the thoughts were irrelevant and unlikely to happen, but they still would not abate, forcing their way into her mind. She had pushed herself too hard. The meditation was to calm her and relax her not bring on a panic attack. In fact her doctor claimed it was the need to be in control constantly that contributed to her episodes.

  Claire’s breathing came in ragged gasps as she fought the panic attack that gripped her, until calm came over her, soothing the fears away. She finally succumbed to the temptation to open her eyes, and for a moment she thought she saw a nimbus of light around her, a faint caress on her cheek as her panic melted away. Strength spent, Claire lay down on her bed and tried to relax. She would be meeting Michael tomorrow and knew she badly needed to get some rest.

  “I guess I’ll just have to rely on you, then, my guardian,” Claire said to the ceiling as she fell asleep.

  ***

  Jazen hated to see Claire push herself too hard. A lot of the time she could cope and she was fine, but sometimes when things got on top of her, her anxiety would return. Jazen had watched Claire since she was a little girl growing up, observing the trials she had endured and finally seeing the cold sometimes distant young woman she had grown into. Jazen knew that was just a façade, a shield to protect her from the world.

  He had watched as she meditated, trying again to force the dream she kept having to the surface of her mind. She always had to be in control, she always had to confront bad things in her life, it was just her way.

  During one of Claire's spell-castings, an imp had been summoned. It was ironic that one of Claire’s greatest fears had come to pass yet she had not even been aware of it. It had been when Jazen was back on high, summoned to be chastised for his direct interventions in his charges life. However Jazen knew the pain Claire had been through, he couldn’t just stand by while he had the power to help the one he cared for.

  The Imp had implanted the dream of Michael’s accident in Claire’s mind in order to feed on the terror it elicited. Jazen had luckily interrupted the Imp before it could complete the dream. Had he been any later it would have entered her mind to corrupt her soul directly. He had banished it with a brief song of purity but by then the dream had already been deeply rooted in Claire’s soul. Knowing her, she would focus on it, thinking it had some deeper meaning.

  Did the dream have some hidden purpose?. The Imp had manifested due to some infernal design rather than Claire’s spell-casting, but he could not be certain of the intention behind it. Whatever the case, he had to watch her even more intently now and take care of her all the more. The choir would not stop him from keeping her safe, even if he had to break their mandates. Claire seemed to sense him on some level, know he was there...maybe even share his feelings, if only on a subconscious level. There was no way he would ever let himself be parted from her.

  Claire’s meditations weren't going well. The dark dream played havoc with her mind and disrupted her calm. She was having a panic attack, she was suffering. Jazen did the only thing he could; he manifested his wings and wrapped them around her humming a soothing song. One of the wingtips accidentally brushed Claire’s cheek while Jazen sang and she opened her eyes. For a moment, Claire’s dazzling green eyes seemed to meet Jazen’s, and he gasped thinking. Could she see him?

  Then she gave a weary smile and lay back down, murmuring before she fell asleep, “I guess I’ll just have to rely on you then my Guardian.”

  Jazen sat down by her bed to watch her. She had only faintly perceived him, rather than truly seeing him, but despite this he was happy.

  “You can always rely on me my love” Jazen whispered.

  ***

  Michael had arranged to meet Claire at Liverpool Street station, an idea he now regretted. They were both off work so it made things a little more convenient than trying to fit the meeting in after. They agreed to meet around midday under the large board that displayed the train arrival and departure times but usually just showed "delayed" or "cancelled".

  Liverpool Street was a huge station hub in the heart of the London. It was constantly packed with people, mostly due to the transport links it provided. It was also coincidentally smack bang in between where Claire and Michael lived, as Claire commuted from the suburbs. It was always busy, full of commuters, tourists, staff and people meeting up to go on their various travels. Michael was regretting his choice to meet at this location.

  The moment he stepped off the bus outside the station and looked inside a wave of nausea hit him. The place was packed, mostly either parents and kids or tourists. Michael hadn’t realised, but it must have been half term holidays. Thinking about it, he had seen kids on his way to the station, it just hadn't clicked in his mind.

  The sheer amount of people with their Guardians was overwhelming. It made the station seem claustrophobic and small with the press of people and angels, despite its large size. Jasmine noticed Michael’s discomfort and took his hand gently, squeezing it for reassurance; she hummed softly, smiling at him.

  Michael shut his eyes and focused on Jasmine’s voice, the sound of her humming and the warmth of her touch. His nausea melted away as he took a deep breath. He opened his eyes again nodding to Jasmine in thanks. Michael entered the station and headed for the board to look for Claire,. He had arrived a little early but still hoped she might be there already.

  Michael walked through the station with Jasmine still holding his hand; it was comfortable and relaxing. It was a little embarrassing holding hands in public, and it made Michael feel bashful. Also the fact, if people could see Jasmine the thought of him holding her hand would be the last thing on their minds, the halo and wings would probably be somewhat more perturbing to them.

  As they walked, Michael scanned the people in the station, noting the con
dition of their Guardians. No one near him had a Guardian who looked chained or dark. The majority of people’s souls probably weren’t dark even if they went through troubles; they were just trying to get on with their lives.

  Children’s guardian angels were a suprise ,childlike versions of an angel, with a smaller halo, and tiny wings that stayed manifest and seemed to always be moving. He even noticed a baby’s guardian, a small cherub with a cheeky face, floating over the baby’s pram giggling.

  “Do angels grow up like people do?" Michael asked Jasmine, curiousity getting the better of him. "There's loads of angel kids around here?” Some people gave him an odd look, but most probably assumed he was just talking on a hands-free mobile rather than to himself.

  “Not really. Why do you ask?” Jasmine replied looking a little confused.

  “I’ve just noticed, the kid’s Guardian Angels, they look like kids. Does that mean you looked like that when I was little too?”

  “Ohhh!” Jasmine exclaimed, giving a look like she had never even considered it before.

  “We take on the appearance of children for our charge's sake. Even though they can't see us, on a subconscious level and in human’s dreams you can perceive us, so it makes things easier on you. We try to grow up in appearance at the same rate you do. We do however change to adult form in special circumstances, like with those children at the hospital; those angels were trying very hard to help their charges recover.” Jasmine explained waving her hand towards a few examples around them.

  Claire was nowhere to be seen when they reached the notice board. Feeling curious about the origin and nature of Guardian Angels, especially his own. Michael leaned against a pillar and let go of Jasmine’s hand, turning to face her.

  “Does that mean you looked as cute as those other little angel’s when I was a little boy?” Michael asked, thinking he might try and tease Jasmine.

  Jasmine blushed in response, simply nodding.

  “So then” Michael paused, remembering when he asked his dad about the birds and the bees.

  “How are angels created? Are you born? Do two angels get together and...well…you know?”

  Jasmine pulled an odd face before replying. It looked to Michael like the sarcastic look his mother used to pull when he asked a daft question.

  “We aren't born in the tradition sense...and no, two angels don’t get together and get busy. Although we can procreate with humans, but that is forbidden and not something we need to go into right now. We are created by the Almighty. Whenever a human soul is born into the world, an angel is born from the creator to watch over that human and add his or her voice to the Divine Symphony.” Jasmine looked at Michael and he nodded to show he understood.

  “It wasn’t always that way. Before the great battle in heaven, where Lucifer fell, there were a set number of angels. A perfect symphony they called it: not too many voices, not too few. But after the great battle, when the Almighty in his infinite wisdom gave life to humanity, he decided that more voices were needed, on high and on Earth. So now for every human there exists an angel…or, when a human's soul has fallen a dark angel or demon.”

  This clearly wasn’t the whole story, but from the look in Jasmine’s eye Michael decided not to push for more information. She had already told him everything she was prepared to and there was no point in upsetting her. He nodded and managed a small smile.

  “I see, well that all makes sense I guess."

  Breaking the tension, Claire had finally arrived. A sullen-looking male angel hovered close beside her shoulder. She was wearing a short red skirt and a form fitting sleeveless top, a far cry from her usual business like appearance at work but still highly attractive. Michael stared and got pinched for his trouble by Jasmine. He thanked Claire’s timely arrival and stood up straight to meet her. He felt a little underdressed in just jeans and a long sleeved blue top.

  Claire spotted Michael instantly and walked over wearing a half grin. He could tell it was just something she wore on the surface, she probably felt a lot different, and she looked a little tired. Her Guardian by contrast didn’t just look tired, but positively depressive. He wore a dark look on his face that Michael had only previously seen on sulky teenagers.

  “That Angel there with Claire, his name’s Jazen." Jasmine whispered.

  "He may look a little off but you will never meet a more devoted Guardian. He’s just a little…too devoted. Try not to do anything to get him started, like stare at his charges cleavage” Jasmine whispered.

  Michael felt a little confused “I was no…” He trailed off, lowering his voice.

  “I was not staring at her cleavage ok? But point taken. Jeese I never knew you were the jealous type.” Michael tried twice as hard to keep his eye level above Claire’s shoulders, and Jasmine laughed.

  Claire waved to Michael as she approached.

  “Sorry, have I kept you long? My train was a little delayed as usual!” Claire said sighed.

  “Nah it’s ok I haven't been waiting too long. Besides, watching all the people go by has kept me entertained. How are you? How's work been?” Michael fell in beside Claire as they started to walk away from the boards.

  “It should be me asking you that! I mean, with the accident and all. You look fine though, I mean it's almost miraculous,” There was excitement in Claire's voice.

  “Well I guess I was just lucky all my injuries were minor or easy to treat. Still signed off work for another week or two while I rest up a bit more.” Michael glanced behind him. Where had Jasmine gone?

  Jasmine and Jazen had formed up behind Michael and Claire, and seemed to be deep in a conversation of their own. Jazen kept glancing up nervously at Claire, as well as giving Michael wary looks. Could he be jealous? Jasmine had mentioned that angels kept a tight rein on their emotions, Jazen clearly wasn’t very good at it.

  “That’s good to hear.” Claire reply brought Michael back to his own conversation.

  “So what would you like to do?" They were just walking around aimlessly. Go for a walk down the Thames, get the tube somewhere, and hang out?”

  “Well… I just came here to talk. I can't say I’m too interested in seeing the sights today if that’s ok by you. Let's just grab a drink and go sit by the river. I really want to talk to you about everything that’s been going on.” Claire paused “And about what happened to you,” she finished, her voice trailing off.

  Michael nodded and managed a weak smile. He led Claire to a small café inside the station, and ordered them a couple of drinks. He kept hearing the Angel’s chattering behind him but couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. It made him feel uncomfortable, and he had to resist the urge to turn round to check constantly.

  After paying they left the station and took the short walk down to the Thames. It only took them about ten minutes to reach the waterfront, although as usual all the benches were occupied by businessmen on their laptops, tourists or old couples eating cheese sandwiches. The conversation between Michael and Claire was a bit stilted, with minor pleasantries and Claire talking a little about work. Jazen and Jasmine, however, continued to chat away. The conversation between the angels seemed to become a bit heated, as Michael heard Jasmine raise her voice to Jazen a few times.

  Michael couldn’t help but wonder what they were talking about, but again felt reluctant to listen in or interrupt them. Claire would probably think he was insane if he turned around talking to thin air or just stopped randomly. Better not to bother trying, than make up excuses like “thought I heard something” or “just the wind,” which probably wouldn’t wash with a serious person Claire. Jasmine would likely tell him later anyway, if it was something concerning him.

  As they walked along the riverfront looking for a bench, Michael couldn’t help but notice how neglected the area looked. They had only been walking for a few minutes, yet in patches signs of depravation were obvious. The recession had really taken its toll. A couple of homeless people rummaged around in bins for food. Another homele
ss woman was sleeping rough outside a small maintenance shed, probably turfed out of the city in the clean-up and left with nowhere else to go.

  The two people rummaging in bins had guardians watching over them; both looked concerned and sang softly to their charges in barely audible melody. The guardians did not look damaged in any way, and Michael sighed in relief; at least they still had protection, even if they were on the streets. The sleeping woman, however, was a different story. Her Guardian looked worn; the feathers in his wings had turned black and were falling like a bird in full moult, leaving skeletal wings permanently exposed. They looked like trees in winter, with only a few leaves desperately hanging on.

  Michael stopped walking. Claire took a few steps ahead before turning around.

  “You ok Michael? We aren't walking too fast are we?”

  “I’m fine. Just give me a moment if that’s ok? I want to give that woman a little spare change.” Michael gave Jasmine a look, hoping she would pick up on his intentions.

  “You shouldn’t give them anything Michael" Claire's voice was cold. "Some of these people are dangerous. She could be a druggie. I feel sorry for them but we can't change the world.”

  “Maybe not, but I can help this one person a little. Just wait here a moment, I won't be long.” Michael walked off the path towards the woman. Claire was right, though he wasn’t even sure what he was going to do to help her. What could he possibly even do to change her situation in any meaningful way.

  Michael stopped just beside where she was sleeping. Her Guardians eyes glowed a faint red, his face just showed bitter sorrow, rather than rage. He didn’t even have chains binding him to the ground yet. Michael smiled weakly at the Guardian before crouching down. The woman couldn’t have been older than her late twenties. She would have been beautiful, had it none been for the grime coating her long dark hair and face.