Watching Over You

Chapter One

Dear Louis,

I don’t know if you’ll ever get this, but I just thought I’d try sending you a letter. Anyway, I don’t know if you still remember me. If you don’t, that’s okay; I’m going to tell you about everything. And hopefully you’ll remember, even if it’s just the slightest bit.

I’m your angel. Or well, I was your angel. I was sent down here to earth with you when you were born on 24 December 1991, and I was assigned to look after you and be your friend until you were able to take care of yourself and make your own friends. I know this sounds silly to you right now, and you might just throw this letter away, but I pray that you continue reading.

On the day you were born, I was sent down here. And I didn’t really like it, because life was a lot better up there, if you know where I’m talking about… Honestly, I wasn’t looking forward to spending fifteen human years down here in the mortal world, taking care of some kid. It’d be boring because only you could see me. No one else could.

But as the months passed, I found myself gradually sort of falling in love with you. I don’t know if it was in that way, because that’d be weird, but I know that I felt some sort of affection towards you. You were adorable as a baby, do you know? When people called your name, you’d giggle loudly, your eyes twinkling.

When you were a month old, you saw me for the first time. You tried poking my eye with your stubby little finger, but it just went straight through me. Of course it did; I’m an angel. Did I mention that already? Yeah I think so. But anyway, when you found that you couldn’t touch me, you poked your finger with your other fingers and stared at me with those huge, innocent, blue eyes like you were wondering if I was really there.

But I was, Louis, I was there. And only you could see me. I began to become fond of you, and I couldn’t wait for you to grow up. I just wanted to be able to talk to you.

As the days passed, we began to interact more in those simple ways; looking at each other, and you trying to touch me. That was adorable. I liked it, because your little fingers were so stubby and chubby too. And every day, I found myself waiting for you to wake up from your sleep, just so that we could “talk” in that little way we did.

Then you slowly grew up. I was there every step of the way. I was quite proud when the first word you said was actually “angel”, not “mummy” or something. I was shocked that you knew I was an angel. As you said it, you grinned and giggled at me. I almost cried. But I didn’t, because I can’t feel anything. Angels can’t feel. I know it’s terrible, I hate it too.

And when you took your first step, or were trying to at least, you stumbled a few times and fell over, inevitably. And you cried, that was for sure. But I was there for you, and I soothed you. I don’t know if you stopped crying and continued trying to walk because of my words, or because of your parents’, but I’d like to think that it was because of me.

When I told you to stop crying, I tried to stroke your back, but I couldn’t. I realized that angels couldn’t touch anything that belonged to the mortal world. But that was okay, because you understood me. You giggled and nodded slightly, and continued trying to walk.

When you were finally old enough for potty training, I went with you. You cried because you didn’t want to leave your mother, but I told you that I’d be there every step of the way. You weren’t very coherent with your words yet, but you understood and nodded eagerly. I know you still missed your mother, but obviously I also knew that it’d only be a matter of hours before you saw her again.

When we were there, the teacher wasn’t very friendly at all. She disliked you because you cried a lot and whined. You kept wailing, “Mama!” and she told you to shut up. But that’s okay, because I made her pay for it. I made her touch some of your poop. It was mean, but I felt that it was necessary. As she screamed, you stopped crying and laughed. You clapped your hands and giggled.