On the Wings of a Beatle

One - Turn off your Mind, Relax and Float Downstream

Olivia awoke on a soft surface, what almost felt like a cloud, odd considering she threw herself off the building into the concrete below. Slowly her eyes fluttered open to see two men sitting on either side of her, both with concerned looks on their faces. On her left was a man who seemed to be about forty years old with shaggy but short brown hair. His eyes were a beautiful shade of coffee brown, but they were hidden behind light brown rimmed glasses. He had a kind face, barely touched by age beyond a few slight wrinkles. The smile upon his lips was gentle, upon seeing her own eyes open, like he was happy to see an old friend. He wore a black leather jacket over a black sweater with a red t-shirt underneath that. He wore blue jeans with the cuffs turned up slightly. Upon his feet were black boots giving him a sort of bad boy appearance in a way. What really made her blood curl was the fact his glasses, especially the left lens, were coated in blood, as was the cut open sweater underneath the leather jacket. Blood also poured from his mouth. Upon further inspection, he had what looked like three bullet holes protruding out of his chest near his heart and on his left shoulder. The man on the left was much different in comparison. This man appeared to be much older, looked to be almost seventy in appearance, but she knew better than to think he was that old. He had been sick in his lifetime, cancer was what he had. His hair was mostly gone, replaced with what almost looked like a buzz cut in a way. His hair was greying slightly but you could still see some of the dark brown strands fighting their way through to be noticed. He had kind chocolate brown eyes, but they lacked any sort of sparkle to them like the man on her left. They were sickly eyes, eyes begging for the end to be near. Still on his face he had a small smirk upon his lips, as if trying to calm her nerves. He wore a blue blazer over a white button up shirt and black dress pants and shoes. Taking a moment to realize what was going on, she realized that these were no ordinary men, but the spirits of John Lennon and George Harrison.

Olivia closed her eyes in shock of the sight of the two of them. "Please tell me I'm dreaming." She whispered softly to myself.

"Well, I suppose you could say it like that." John's voice rang through her ears.

"How so?"

"You're dead Olivia." George's raspy, cancer infected voice spoke. The sound of his voice made her cringe. George had always been her favorite Beatle, but to see him look so sickly a moment ago, and now to hear how his melodic voice had withered away to nothing but a rasp...it broke her heart...you know, if she still had a heart, she wasn't quite sure.

"Something wrong love?" John asked.

"Why won't you open your eyes and look at us?" George coughed out.

The two former Beatles glanced up at each other and jumped back slightly, disturbed by the sight of one another. "Geo! I thought you hated that form!"

"Me? I'm not the one covered in blood!"

"Well fuck..." John cursed a slight chuckle under his breath. "Our first real gig as guardian angles, and we manage to fuck it up." John said, his voice morphing slowly from a slight lisp from the blood on his lips disappearing to that of a younger more British sounding voice.

"Figures." George muttered. "All that planning we've been doin' wasted! Looks like we're not going up for the guardian angle of the year award." George chuckled, his voice morphing more dramatically than John's had. Instead of sounding raspy and sickly, almost Oldman-ish, it now sounded more melodic and younger with more of a scouse accent to it, like the voice he had back in his twenties.

"Sorry 'bout that love. Didn't mean to frighten ye." John spoke.

"It's safe to open yer eyes now, we don't look so grotty anymore." George chuckled. Slowly she dared to open her eyes, bracing for what she might see. Instead of seeing the men clinging onto their last moments of life, she now saw the two in their younger Beatle looks. John had taken on his appearance from the early, early Beatle days when they were still The Silver Beatles, hair slicked back with gel and leather jacket to complete the look. George on the other hand had opted for something a little more casual, choosing a normal everyday outfit that included a black denim jack, with a black t-shirt underneath, a black belt with dark blue jeans and the Beatles boots they all wore (shaggy mop top included). "Better?"

"Much." She smiled as the two Beatles helped her to sit up.

"Well, welcome to heaven Liv!" John smiled. "Too bad ye won't be stayin' much longer."

"What do you mean?" Olivia asked.

"Ye see, ye died tragically and way before your time I'm afraid." George explained.

"...meaning...?"

"We're sendin' ye back." John said.

"Aw please! Please don't do that! I'll only be right back! I can't take that life anymore!" She pleaded. "Living with an abusive boyfriend threatening to kill me, that awful job at the strip club just to make a living so he can spend it all on booze. Please don't send me back there!" The two Beatles shared a knowing glance with one another before looking back to the girl before them. John bursted out in wicked laughter. Confused, Olivia looked to George. "Um...what's psycho's problem?"

George chuckled and shook his head. "We're not sendin' ye back there love, we're sendin' ye back further than that!"

"Huh?"

"We were put in charge of ye when ye were born, ye see." George started. "Ye know, watchin' o'er ye, how else do ye think ye got yer love of the Beatles, love?" George chuckled. "Ye see we're responsible of makin' sure ye don't do nothin' too divvy..." She nodded slightly, silently telling George she was following his logic. "Anyway, we've watched ye yer entire life, and when ye took yer own life so suddenly and so tragically without a chance for us to even lift a finger to save ye, well we couldn't forgive ourselves for not doin' a better job. All angles are entitled to one, I guess you could call it, a do over for all eternity. Both of our guardian angles didn't care to use their saves upon us so we ended up here. We vowed to do the same, unless someone we really thought deserved a second chance at life, at a better life, came along. John here is enacting his do over upon ye."

Olivia turned her gaze to John, who gave her a weak smile. She knew that he was never one to show emotion, as he thought it looked immensely weak on his part, since he was expected to be the bad boy of The Beatles. "Well thank you then John."

"It's no problem really. I just couldn't just sit by and watch a beautiful bird like yerself rot away up here. It's awful boring." John winked. "Though god forbid I send ye back to that world ye just came from. Nah, I've got better plans for ye."

"Oh really?"

"Mhm. See ya soon, Liv." John waved before he and George each placed a hand upon her shoulder and shoved her off the cloud they sat upon. She braced for impact on the ground but it never came. She only felt her feet softly touch down on the concrete of the sidewalk. Olivia looked around, she hadn't the foggiest of where she was, John didn't mention much of where she was going to end up. He had said seen you soon... he must've figured she'd just be killing herself again. She shook her head out and glanced down at her clothes, they were still the same, her white Beatles T-shirt, jeans, black converse and her grey oversized hoodie over that. Couldn't have sent me too far back now could they? She thought.

Hearing a slight rumble of thunder she couldn't help but wonder what she was supposed to do now. She had no idea of when or where she was, all she knew that was where ever she was, she was here. Starting to walk toward the end of the alley, she was suddenly knocked down by a tall lanky man with an odd sort of hair cut who had been running frantically around the corner. She hissed in pain as her world whitened and blurred slightly as her head hit the concrete hard enough to make a small gash wound on the back of her head. "I'm so sorry!" The man said in the hushed tone. Why was he speaking so quietly, she wondered? "Oh god, yer bleeding! 'Ere, come with me!" He said desperately trying to pull her to her feet to no avail. He sighed and picked the girl up bridal style before running down the remainder of the alleyway to the adjacent street.

She glanced up at the man and studied his face. He had high cheek bones, a mop of dark brown hair and the most beautiful chocolate brown eyes she had ever laid her eyes upon. She groaned as her head began to spin once more, the whiteness in her vision slowly starting to block all other sights. She heard a high pitched ringing in her ears before passing out. Her last thoughts were: Wait, is that...?