Guardian angel ghost.

Hey y'all!

I'm posting on a Friday! Trippy huh? Well, there is a reason.

Covid 19. We read that phrase a couple of times a day, and I'm sorry to add to that for you, but I swear this is a fun post. Within my Church, there are a lot of people working on social distancing right now, just like thousands of others around the country, and globe... That means that everyone is stuck at home away from people, and eventually, boredom is going to set in, (if it hasn't already). So I've decided to have a "Flash-fiction Friday" I'll be posting short stories every week for the next ten weeks, to see if I can help fend off some of that boredom. 

The stories are likely to vary greatly, so if you have younger readers with you, you may want to screen the posts before sharing; I won't write anything kinky, I'm really not that type... But I may write slightly more intense stories from time to time, or I may simply have some content that you don't want to get in to with your kids right now... I will try to include a "common sense rating" for my stories every week though.

This first story is called Guardian angel ghost. It deals a little with depression, and self-loathing. There is a little bit of suspense, but nothing terrifically scary. Anyone older then 9 should be fine, but if you are willing to get into a conversation about self-loathing and depression with your kids, then there's nothing that should stop you from reading it.

I’ll never forget that night when I met Angela, she wasn’t like anyone else, but to be fair, she was the only ghost that I have ever met.

It was late, maybe two or three in the morning, but I was well past caring about the hour by then. You see, I’ve struggled with depression and self-loathing for quite a while, and that was one of my hard nights. I had been crying and beating myself up in my mind for hours by then, “You’re going to be dead in the morning if you don’t go to sleep soon you idiot… and no one would even miss you.” And in that way my self-destructive cycle continued. I knew that sleep wouldn’t be an option until I could calm myself and that I wouldn’t be calm until I had cried myself out.

I was upset enough that I wasn't really worried about anything except my own misery, with even my safety coming second. So when I heard creaking in the hallway I just disregard it; even when I was sure that I heard footsteps, I only shivered before continuing to cry silently. I was facing the wall opposite my bedroom door while I cried, so I didn’t notice the white glow until she had walked through my door. Despite my anguished soul, I had to turn when I saw the light cast upon my wall. And there she stood, a ghost, real, and in my doorway. I was a little bit emo, and I had read far too many stories which had started this way, and almost none of them ended well, so I began to quake in my bed, too scared to move, with my temporary sorrow forgotten.

She wore a long flowing dress the color of freshly churned butter, and her curly brown hair had so much body that it almost looked like it was floating around her head. Her skin was sunkissed, and she was somehow beyond age… as she was neither young nor old… and yet neither was she middle-aged. Her eyes showed the wisdom of extreme old age, as well as the youthful earnest glow of a young child. The glow which I had seen upon my wall seemed to come from all around her, as well as from within herself, not only her skin but even from her dress itself. She drew closer, each step so light that she almost appeared to be floating. She continued to walk closer, slowly but consistently. I wanted to scream, but I had no breath to do so, and besides that, there was no one else home to come even if I had.

By then she was close enough that I could have reached out and touched her, and she was starting to reach out for me. I pulled myself flat against the back of the bed frame, effectively trapping myself in the corner, now shaking hard enough that I could hear the bed rattling against the outside wall. She took one step closer, and I closed my eyes, I wasn't sure what she was going to do, but I certainly didn’t want to see it happen. I could still see the glow through my eyelids, no matter how tightly I scrunched them shut.

The next thing I felt, shocked me down to my bones; it was her warm rather dainty hand; gently stroking my hair. I opened my eyes, tears of terror shining in my eyes, and watched as she sat lightly on the edge of my bed and softly began to shush me.

“It’s alright Sam. I’m not that type of ghost. You see, I was sent from heaven, by God, to help you. He could see that you were going through an especially rough spot… Although it is odd that you can see me, most people can’t you know.”

I straightened up for a moment, finding that my nose was still running from my tears.

“Most people?” I sniffled.

She smiled gently, one of the most beautiful sights which I expect I will ever see until I can see heaven’s gates with my own eyes.

“Yes, Sam. You didn’t think that God left people to struggle on their own did you?”

I considered this for a moment.

“No… but I thought that He just kept a hand on our shoulders from afar.” She nodded.

“He’s with you all the time, and He walks with you on all days. But some times, in special circumstances, He’ll send one of us down to keep an eye on you for a little while.”

“Really?”

“Really.

It was then that I noticed the odor which clung to her, lavender and cherry-wood, and as strange as it sounds, that also describes how I felt around her; comforted and at home.

“My name is Angela by the way, I’m going to walk with you for the next few days.” The glow which surrounded her felt like an aura of love, and within it, I felt safe and loved, and that was just enough to make me burst back into tears.

Angela didn’t say anything during this time, she was far too wise for that, but instead, she just let me cry, wiping away my tears with the soft hem of her dress… though somehow it remained perfectly dry.

When I began to calm down again, I began to talk; about my insecurities, my self-loathing, and my sorrows. I typically wasn't a talker, but something about her made me feel comfortable, and I had known for a long time that I shouldn’t bottle up my emotions, lest I either explode and hurt my friends, or implode, and hurt myself, and everyone around me. Usually, I was afraid that I would burden others with my problems, but with Angela, I felt like she grew stronger with each worry that I shared.

Just like she had promised, Angela stayed with me for nearly a week and a half, during which I had one of the worst episodes of my young life, but I soon felt stronger then I had for quite a while.

I knew that she wouldn’t stay with me forever, but it still took me by surprise when she told me she needed to leave.

“I will remember you Sam, and I hope that you won’t stop praying like you have these past several days… and that you will keep talking to your friends and family like you’ve started to do under my tutelage… But I need to go, there are others who need my help right now, and you’re already well on your way. Please remember that you aren’t alone, and be as strong as I know that you can be.”

I nodded, tears in my eyes, just like they had been when I first met her, but these tears weren’t borne of self-hatred, but simple loneliness; as I would miss her.

I wish that I could say that I never struggled with depression or self-loathing again, but that wouldn’t be true. I still have hard days, and I still spend some of my nights in tears, and self-destructive cycles, but whenever I felt like I can’t go on, or that I didn’t deserve the oxygen I breathe, I can see Angela’s face light up when she spoke about how much God loved me, and the pain in her face when she wiped away my tears.

If I had the voice to speak to everyone else in the world who hates themselves at 2 AM, I would say this; bad days come and go, and it’s likely to be like that for the rest of your life. But they do GO, and if you make permanent decisions on something so changeable, then either you or your family will regret it. So remember that you are loved, by your family, your friends, and by God, even more then you can fathom and that you aren’t alone. There are a thousand others laying on their beds, feeling worthless and alone, and a thousand people have a whole lot of worth, even in the eyes of the world. And every single one of you is worth more then you can imagine to our true Father.

Keep calm and try to enjoy yourself!

Thanks for the read!

PS. If you have an idea for a short story that you'd like to see me tackle please share it below!