I think everyone, angels and humans alike, has misconceptions of what a rescuer is. The someone or something that saves you doesn't have to possess a good heart or even have the best intentions in mind. They don't have to be heroic or knightly with their actions, and they most certainly don't have to stick around after pulling you out of the pool of your own blood while you're unconscious and taking you someplace dry. My rescuer didn't. Not at first. I was laying there listening to the storm, thinking about the odd nature of lightening and thunder, how they were opposites yet were never without each other, when I saw him for the first time.