Blind to Hope✔️

Chapter One~Introductions

I cried soft golden tears, and placed my hand over my mouth to muffle my sobs. Shaking from head to toe I couldn't help but mentally berate myself for my utter stupidity. I'd been foolish enough to ask my parents if we could move for the hundredth time. They'd responded in the way they always did, with my father screaming cruelly at me and my mother giving me a punishment.

Mother had dragged me by my hair despite my screams of pain and fear. She had then deposited me inside of our chest freezer, locking it shut, keeping me trapped in there for the unforeseeable future.

Had I deserved it? Yes. Did that make it any less agonizing? No. Would I make it out of the confined frigid freezer with my sanity and my spirit intact? Perhaps, but unlikely.

I'd already lost count of how long I'd been in here. Hours at least, perhaps a half day, maybe more. The countless golden tears I'd shed had dripped to the floor in a puddle, shimmering and allowing me a source of light in the enclosed darkness.

I wasn't sure how long I could survive in a freezer; despite being a Guardian Angel, I still had a sense of mortality. I shook my head in defeat as my mind brought my title up once more. To the human race, the title was awe worthy. They saw us as protectors, but unless their faith backed us up, we were nothing more than fiction. But that wasn't true, we were alive, living in the human world alongside them. We were born to be attached to one or two noble humans, those who needed guidance and protection.

Of course, that couldn't have been true for me. Because I was born with nine humans who needed help and guidance, their names written in different colors across my torso. That in itself was an oddity, however, shortly after my birth, it was discovered that eight of the nine men had already been born. That was a freak incident in itself. Guardian Angels are at a minimum of ten years older than those we are meant to protect, to allow Angels time to harness their powers and abilities. Usually, Guardian Angels are twenty years older than their Chosen. Typically thirty years older.

My father was incredibly embarrassed by me and hid me from the rest of the world, even the fellow Guardian Angels. He faked my death, before moving his wife-my mother, and his daughter-my elder sister, to another city where we were not known. We ended up in Chicago, Illinois.

If I was honest, growing up was horrifying. I was plagued by nightmare like visions of my Chosen. I could see the pain their parents and friends gave them, yet I was too young to know how to help them. I was never allowed proper training, my parents dedicated to pretending I was a normal Angel like my sister, instead of the Guardian I was. I was five when I finally realized I could use these nightmares to help my Chosen.

The first time I'd used them, was to save one of my Chosen, Lucian Taylor, as he fell from the top of a ginormous tree. I'd been horrified, reaching my hands out as if I could save him or catch him. It was the first time I'd used my powers, light pink waves of magic had poured out of my outreached hands, whooshing over to the falling Lucian. My magic had slowed him ever so slightly, allowing him to grab a tree branch, jerking him to a halt. He'd pulled himself onto the branch in shock looking around to see if anyone had witness his miraculous catch...before climbing up the tree again.

It had been the first time, when I felt I had a purpose. I hadn't felt useless, or worthless, as my mother constantly made me feel. I'd protected one of my Chosen, a duty the gods had deemed me fit to complete. I'd saved Lucian from terribly injuring himself, perhaps saving himself from death. I felt proud... and then I woke up and pain engulfed me.

It was worse than all the punishments mother gave me. It was worse than any pain I had ever experienced. My head felt like it was being bashed it, golden blood dripped from my eyes, nose, ears, and mouth. I couldn't see, I couldn't hear, I could scarcely breath, it was an eternity revolved around pain. I remember screaming, but despite being able to feel every brush of carpet underneath my skin, no one picked me up and comforted me. My parents and sister just let me remain in torture for a complete day.