Invisible

TWENTY-FOUR

TWENTY-FOUR

Forty-six days. I haven’t seen Kelly for forty-six days. I dread every single second of if.

I keep myself busy. I try to do as less damage as possible. I even try to intercept some mischief most of my kind is making. I try to atone for what I have done by saving others.

I’m not stupid. I miss my job. And maybe saving Kelly was the stupidest thing I have every done. But I know it was worth it.

I wasn’t overanalyzing when I told her before that something big was happening. And she was involved. My job was to get her as far as possible without getting corrupted.

I hope my sacrifice was the right choice.

I sit in the lonely runway of the airport; watching the planes come and go. I wondered what it would feel like to be able to fly into the heavens again.

I missed the large banquets, I missed the celebrations, I missed the inaugurations; I missed every bit of it.

“Gabriel.” Michael stands firmly before me.

“Michael.” I nod. “Why are you here?”

“Thought I’d make a few rounds around the airplane with the other guardians, just in case.”

“Spencer’s leaving?”

“Paris.” He grins boyishly.

“He’s making it big.” I smile, running out of things to say.

“Sure is.” He stares at me for a couple of seconds, I stare out awkwardly into the runway. “It was stupid of you, you know?”

“What?”

“To sacrifice yourself like that.” He gives me a sad eye.

I chuckle, “I regret nothing. After all, it was my job to get her as far as possible without being corrupted.” I shrug, “My theory is He’s planning on making her one of us.”

Michael raises both eyebrows in surprise, and then shakes his head like it didn’t make sense. “Your sacrifice was for nothing then.”

I freeze, “What?”

“Michael.” Another voice interjects our conversation. A lady of blonde hair and blue eyes, majestically in the middle of resting her wings; eyeing me suspiciously in the process.

“I have to go. Good luck.”

I was instantly confused. What did he mean by my sacrifice being for nothing? Did she get herself corrupted?

I knew I should have fought instead of surrendered. I could never trust her on her own. Spencer couldn’t protect her. What was I thinking?

I spread my ashen wings, trying hard to feel Kelly’s pulse.

I died not too long before Kelly’s birth. She was the only assignment I ever had. I developed this impulse of tracking her by the sound of her heartbeat.

You would notice finer things as an angel; the way they breathe, the way they move when they sleep, the sound of their voice, the way they act, and the sound of their heartbeat.

My Kelly is in trouble somewhere. I’m not acting as a lover attempting to save his damsel in distress, I was a guardian angel. Her guardian angel, doing what I do best.

It was nighttime when I finally located her pulse. The city was already brilliantly lit by the various lights of the tall establishments.

Despite getting the trace of her pulse, I found it difficult to navigate to exactly where she is. The city remained lively, even at night. I was detecting other things as well.

I wish I had a hound.

I had to double pass the building before I saw her. Huddled on the edge; hazel eyes staring out into the abyss of a city.

My entire world dropped, my wings could barely carry my weight.

There she was, the girl I was assigned to protect: corrupted.

“Kelly…” I linger in the background, hoping I mistook her for someone else. But she turns her head with a surprised look on her face.

“Gaby!” she bursts into tears, tackling me with her thirsty embrace.

“How did this happen?” I ask her, but she refused to break from the embrace. So I held her, stroking the small of her back as she let out a tidal wave of tears into my jacket.

I sit there, listening to her hiccups and gentle sobs, defenseless. I used to be able to prevent those tears from coming. I used to be able to make them stop with mere words detached from affection. I used to be the strong one. Now I hold her tighter, letting silent tears slip from the ocean in my eyes.

It was nearing dawn; Kelly still rests on my chest. She calmed down a few hours ago, but still refuses to let go. I hug her tightly, gently stroking her hair with the other hand, my lips pressed on the top of her head.

I empathized every single thing she’s been through since that moment she ran away from me.

She saw how she died, but she only saw part of it.

She didn’t see her little angle cradled in the doctor’s hands. She didn’t see how he grew up.

And I’m so tempted to tell her, to show her. To show her that she’s been so close. But I stop myself. I’ve done so much damage. This would surely give her more worry than peace of mind. Especially in the state he’s in now.

His father took him in. His father’s wife despised him. His brother simply didn’t care. All the affection he received was from his little sister. I used to watch them play all day, then I would return to Kelly with a warm smile on my face.

I wanted so many times to show her.

Then he ran away. Dropped everything and just ran.

I wanted to tell Kelly everything, to have her comfort him. But it saddened me that it would sadden her more not being able to do that for her child.

So I sit quietly, not saying a word.

I left him alone. I tried to focus on Kelly more and more, to make up for the joys I could never share with her.

Then I saw him again. Kelly saw him to. I tried my best to stop her, but she already made contact.

She even dragged him all the way to the hospital, giving him a chance in the life she couldn’t live.

I was so relieved when his body sucked his spirit back in when he stabilized. I even let Kelly say her goodbyes.

Big mistake.

He somehow woke up with the sixth sense. He could see his own mother, and Kelly could communicate with him oblivious to the fact that she’s talking to the tiny blip growing in her belly so long before.

“It was horrible.” Kelly blurted out, muffled by my jacket.

“What happened?”

“I saw it. I saw everything. But instead of letting it go, I thought of my baby. And the old lady she – “ Kelly breaks down into horrifying sobs once again. All I could do was close my eyes in hopes that I wouldn’t have to do this.

“My baby.” It was barely even a whisper. But I heard it, and I knew what I had to do.