|March 14, 1970|
"So, how does it feel to be twenty-one?" she asked.
"Wonderful!" I replied, grinning. "I had no idea ya'all were planning a party for me."
"That's why it's called a surprise party!" I walked around and immersed myself in the party. All the people I cared about were here. It was the best surprise I could have had.
By the time my party was over, it was 1:00 in the morning. I was ready to go home, so I went outside to get in my car. I was unlocking my car door when I saw someone walking towards me. I figured it was one of my friends, so I opened my door, but waited. Then, the person stepped into the light of a nearby street lamp and something flashed. I knew it was a gun, but I didn't even have time to scream. A searing pain shot through my chest and I collapsed on the ground. I could see the person running as sirens got closer. I heard voices and felt people touching me, but I couldn't hold on.
I opened my eyes and looked around. "So this is heaven," I murmured.
"That's right," a kind voice said from behind me. I turned around to see a middle-aged, slightly chunky woman smiling at me. "Welcome, Riley. We've been expecting you."
"So...where do I go from here?" I asked.
"Back," the woman replied simply.
"What?"
"You're going back. You are going to be a guardian angel. We feel that you would be a wonderful one. You care about others and you have a mothering quality that is perfect when you're someone's guardian."
"A...guardian angel?"
"Yes. Now, let's see...Ah-ha. Michael Bryant is a sixty-year old man. Unfortunately, his previous guardian angel turned against the Lord and was sent you-know-where. He's definately a good one to start you on. Doesn't really get into much trouble, but you never know. Oh, by the way, I'm Betty," the woman said.
"Wait, wait...Angels can turn bad?" I asked.
"Of course. They're not perfect."
"Oh."
"Be strong. And good luck!" Immediately, I was in a small kitchen with Michael Bryant. Such would begin my twenty-three year job as his guardian angel. At age eighty-three, it was Michael's time to go, and he died of a heart attack.
|May 31, 1993|
"Where do I go now?" I asked Betty as I stood next to Michael's daughter at the funeral.
"Well, we're putting you on a young man named Nick Carter. He's thirteen and him and a few other guys have just formed a group. He'll be traveling all over the world and he's going to need a lot of protection," Betty answered.
This is where the story begins. Maybe it'll help me to tell someone. I don't have much time, but I'm going to tell this story and if you would like, you can be the one to listen.