A Guardian of Sorts
BY OLIVIA WATSON
Time whisked carelessly away, hour by hour, as crowds of people scuttled
around, sharing a similarity to ants, in every direction the eye could see, all possessing
their own destinations. Tranquility did not seem to be a characteristic known to the city.
The wind blew, the rain pattered, the dogs barked, and the children laughed, all filling
the void with endless noise and energy in a never-ending cycle that didn’t seem to
dampen, even at the very tick of midnight. The concrete jungle illuminated itself with
various brightly colored neon lights that shown through the thickest of fogs on the inkiest of nights. Endless cars and trucks whizzed by, leaving the honks of horns in their wake.
Today, however, the rumble of thunder rolled around every so often, occasionally
silencing the nearly unsilenceable city. While this all occurred, a lean figured girl, seemingly inattentive to the ruckus, with downcast eyes and soaked mousey brown hair tossed carelessly aside, sat on the slick stones of a wall, not more than 5 feet away from the swarming streets of London, her feet dangling over the mud-ridden ground. Rain hurtled from the cloudy sky, making their deathbeds on the ground around her. To anyone else, if she could be seen, her blandly colored clothes and general dark persona that stuck to her like sickly sweet honey might’ve seemed a bit out-of-place in the midst of the vividly colored life around her. Her strikingly silver eyes stared unwaveringly at a small electronic pad that shined a ring of light around her face and floated seamlessly under the typing of her unceasing fingertips, not noticing a soul around her, as she should. The passersby didn’t pay attention to her and she didn’t pay attention to them, all except for one.
That person was extremely important to her. In fact, she might even go as far to
claim that she would die for them if so needed. However, only because until her job was
finished, if they did happen to meet a gruesome end, she would soon follow suit in ways
far worse than the mortal mind could ever comprehend. No, she did not care about
them because they were family. Nor because they were romantically involved, among
other trivial human things. She held concern solely because according to the rules of
her people, she was their protector and they were her protected. Two souls intertwined
by the laws of nature. Destined to never be anything more, or less than that. A guardian
angel, if you like.
Although they had never had the pleasure of meeting the young angel, she had
always been there, watching, plotting, and interfering only when needed. From the day
they were born to their first laugh, all the way up until now, including the various
milestones in between. She knew them better than anyone else could ever dream of.
From their small insecurities to the very deepest of their immensely darkest thoughts.
She knew and yet they wouldn’t know she had even ever existed, all the way up until the day they died. Some may see that as a sad life to lead, but that was just the way
things worked in the world she was from. Some spent their entire lives attached to the
hip of someone who would never even know their names. The business she partook in
operated from the hidden shadows of the world, always there, following, watching, but
never truly noticed. Some speculated but that was far as anyone had ever made it. They
kept hidden behind the solitude of their golden palace in a place that no one has ever
discovered.
So there she sat, typing various information into her daily logs that were meant to
keep track of her business, invisible to the very person mentioned. They unknowingly
stood next to her, their hood casting dark shadows over the majority of their face leaving
only pale, cracked lips to be seen. Their hands sat stuffed into their jacket pockets,
gripping a handle tightly, to the point that their very fingers turned a transparent white.
The girl felt barrels of desolation radiating from her protected.
They had always been a relatively average person as far as mortals go. They
had grown up in a suburban neighborhood with a loving family that consisted of a mom,
a dad, and two siblings with a few pets along the way. They had attended an average
schooling system with around a standard class size. They had participated in an
abundance of school clubs and activities, many would go as far as to call them bright.
They had experienced their fair share of heartbreak and loss over the years. They had
even come to the very brink of death at one point. They had pursued the life of fairy
tales, as many young adults eventually do and after all that, they had ended up in the
ginormous city of London, escaping the restricting town of their childhood and effectively leaving behind all they had once known and loved.
Across the street from the two, stood a busy convenience story with numerous crowds walking in and out, carrying groceries and holding the hands of small children.
The girl’s protected had their eyes trained on the disorder, observing and waiting. Cars
whizzed past sometimes obstructing their view, but the human’s eyes never seemed to
waver. Suddenly, they made their move, crossing the street at a fast pace and narrowly
missing cars that swerved to avoid their being. As close as they had just come to death,
they didn’t seem to care. The brunette followed their footsteps, walking straight through
cars that might’ve otherwise hit her if she had possessed a solid body. As the figure
came to a stop in front of the small, run-down convenience store with shakey lights and
suspicious smells, they craned their neck to look at the brightly lit up sign above reading
“Barkley’s” and momentarily stepping back, seemingly faltering. Their mind had already
been made up, however, for better or for worse. The angel’s eyes briefly twinkled and a
hint of amusement showed on her face, leaving almost as soon as it had come.
Their grip on the hilt, hidden away in their pocket, loosened as they walked
through the automatic doors, twisting through a small crowd of teenagers who had just
walked out with their bought goods. Later those teenagers realized that had they been in that store a minute longer, their lives would have taken a vastly different course.
Standing there, the angel’s protected surveyed the tightly packed room, noticing the
shelves of fattening foods and just how many people were hidden behind them. They
quickly attracted the attention of the various customers that were milling about. Many
turned and stared, whispers escaping their mouths, as nervousness bubbled in the pits
of their stomachs at the sight of the figure with their face hidden and hands stuffed in
the deepest alcoves of their pockets. Before another word could be spoken, the eyes of
the hooded silhouette swiveled and they quickly unsheathed a small silver gleaming
knife. They held it over their head in an almost humorous way, pointing it at anyone who
dared to breathe in their general direction. Silence followed before endless chaos broke
out composed of people throwing others into the burning, and unforgiving flame, just to
save their own lives. Many ran to the back rows of the small store, as the front entrance
was guarded by the one holding the knife. Others, stood frozen, every instinct in their
brain screaming to run away, but yet their bodies remaining glued to the checkered
floor, with their eyes wide and mouths open. This all took place as the cashier, who was
trained to protect their customers, ducked behind the cash register and unbeknownst to
anyone else, ran out the back door to safety, leaving the rest to suffer that doomfull day.
The hooded figure stood, towering over the defenseless souls, their lips slowly
curled into a cruel smile. The brunette girl, standing no more than a few feet away from
the scene, watched the upheaval that was occurring, all while wearing an emotionless
face that displayed no sign of concern or even the hint of slight remorse. Nobody would
ever figure out what possessed them to commit such a horrid act, nobody besides the
devious angel. Once the event was all done in finished, many of the protected’s family
and old friends would comment about what a sweet kid they had been or how their
actions seemed so unlike them, but that would never change the horrid events that took
place that night, much less the many lives lost.
Blood-curdling screams seeped out into the streets sending the masses outside
running, but neither of the two seemed to care much. In fact, her work here had come to
an end. What happened from this point forward to the human she had previously been
protecting, was not under her control. After the copious amount of years spent, although
trifling in the long run, following, documenting, and guiding the minuscule of a being,
insignificant human, she had finally accomplished the very business she had been sent
from her land and into the mortal world to perform, for her business was not of light or
happiness that might have been assumed by the term “Guardian Angel”. Sure, she
could be considered an angel, she might even be considered a celestial being, but she
did not protect the mortals and hardly even cared for their well-being or whether they
lived or died. Who would care about beings who only lived for a blink of an eye,
compared to the superiority others out there? Many of her people shared the same
opinion.
Not many knew much about the brunette’s heritage, other then the fact that they
had been around far before the seeds of life had even begun to be planted and would
surely be here much longer than any other species alive, dead, or yet to be born. They
possessed knowledge far greater than most could even dream of obtaining, truly
infallible beings. Her kind were the guardians of chaos and in their eyes, mortals were
simply the instruments of turmoil. From the very emergence of time, they had worked
hard to knit the strings of fate in such a way that utter mayhem was derived from the
very roots of the universe, seeping into the lives of many and festering to the point that
chaos and disorder were all they knew. Always there. Always lurking. Never overcome.
Never defeated.
About the Author
Oliva Watson is 14 years old. She is from East Longmeadow, MA and goes to East Longmeadow High school. Of her writing she says, “My works allows me to express myself. Writing also allows me to live my dream of one day being a writer.”
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