Ambition

It’s the guardian’s job to protect. Each person lives and dies by the dates of the Creator. Those times are hard on us, but it’s a necessary part of the job. My girl’s time is coming. I can only watch, invisible at her window, as she sits in bed with an IV in her arm, and some friends surrounding her. Claire’s become so frail that she’s trapped here in the hospital. She’s wearing a hospital gown and a pink bandana to cover the hair loss.

“They still don’t have a diagnosis?” One friend asks.

“No,” she responds. “They think it’ll kill me if I’m not careful. I can’t walk too much, or keep food down.”

“That’s awful. Does Adam know? Has he visited you yet?”

Claire’s gaze drops to her hands as they fiddle a loose thread on the blanket. “He knows I’m sick, and he knows I like him. I told him on Friday before I blacked out. He looked… upset. I don’t expect him to visit if he doesn’t like me back.”

My heart aches, tearing in my chest as her confession floods into my memory. Yes, I’m Adam. I materialized and became her friend when she was five years old. Being an angel, I could appear the same age and “grow up” with her. My love for her in the beginning felt like genuine friendship. I enjoyed her company, and her heart always held the purest intentions. When she entered college, I imagined even more. I could never bring myself to tell her, though. She’s going to die young. An angel shouldn’t bed a human, anyway. Humans are tainted.

I can’t stand to see her so upset because of me, but I can’t show myself now. The door closes as her friends leave. Now, all alone, Claire hangs her head and rivers of tears spill down her face. I remember the first time she came to me, crying. She was eight years old, her parents had a tough divorce, and her mom couldn’t leave her chair, eat, or even smile for days. Claire was so worried that she didn’t love her anymore.

“That’s not true,” I told her “she just feels guilty.”

“What?” she sniffed “Why?”

“Well, your parents were arguing a lot, and now they’re not together anymore. She thinks she let you down and that you don’t love her anymore.”

“But I do love her! I mean, I love Daddy too, but how could I not love my mom?”

“A flower goes its entire life without ever being told how pretty it is. Without eyes, they can’t see the beautiful shapes and patterns they have. It’s pretty sad, but they do okay. Humans can’t live without knowing how important they are. They shouldn’t have to live like flowers. Remind her you love her, and everything she does for you. If you don’t, she won’t get better.”

Claire’s face lit up in a beautiful smile. She agreed to do so, and I helped her make a card and a crown of clovers from her backyard. Her mom cried tears of joy. She got better, and Claire vowed to tell everyone how important they were to her. I, of course, got that every day, and hearing it only made my love for her grow stronger.

But I won’t hear that today. She’ll be dead tomorrow morning and cry herself to sleep thinking that I don’t like her at all.

Something twinges in my thoughts and pulls my attention back to present day Claire. Wait, she isn’t crying anymore, now she’s-she’s pulling the IV out of her arm! Claire! What are you doing?

A yelp escapes her lips as she holds the wound shut, blood pouring over her fingers. Regardless of the obvious pain painted on her face, she turns and settles her feet on the floor. Is she standing up? Don’t! You’re shaking and bleeding! Claire! 

She takes a second to steady herself and wobbles to the door. Her hand falls from her arm, and blood trickles along her path. Is she looking for me? No, she can’t!

I fly past her, materialize in the hall, and lean my shoulder on the wall, hating myself for doing this to her. I should’ve never showed myself. The door opens, and she freezes up when she sees me. Her eyes are wide, dark circles underneath, and her pale lips part to catch her breath.

“You shouldn’t be out of bed.” I tell her. “You’re bleeding, and it looks like whatever you have is making it hard to walk.”

“How long have you been standing there?” She asks.

“Why are you up?”

“I just wanted to see you. I wanted... If I die tomorrow, I want to know that you don’t hate me.”

“I could never hate you, Claire.”

“Then why didn’t you visit before? Why are you hiding out here? Were you ever going to come in?” Tears pour down her cheeks again.

“Cause I would’ve just tried to apologize.”

“So?”

“I learned a long time ago that a knife hurts more when it’s pulled than when it’s stabbed. When your life is on the line and someone makes you happy, the idea of death seems much worse. It hurts more to see what you’d be leaving behind.”

“How could you know that?”

“Trust me, it wouldn’t have been worth it.”

We’re quiet for what seems like an eternity, then her cold, bloody hand grabs mine. “Adam, I don’t want to die, but I’ll be okay if you just tell me the truth. Do you feel the same? Or was I stupid for bringing it up?”

I reach out with my other hand to dry the tears on her face. “Claire, I’ve always loved you, and I always will. I’m so sorry I made you doubt that.”

Claire smiles up at me, closes her eyes and leans a little closer. Her lips are parted, begging me to taste them. I lean in too, but I’ve already done too much, and without thinking, I realize I’ve dematerialized. She’s staring into my eyes, but she can’t can’t see me. The shock on her face makes that clear.

She gasps and steps back, tears racing down her face as her eyes search around for me. Her breathing gets heavier.

“Breathe,” she whimpers, clutching her throat “I can’t... breathe... help.”

Her voice isn’t loud enough. We’re in the back hall, in the middle of the night. Minutes pass like hours until she collapses. I kneel by her side. She’s not gone, not yet. She still has until morning. With a quick glance over my shoulder, I materialize and carry her back into her room. I lay her back on the bed, push the emergency button on the bedrail, and dematerialize again. Help arrives in a flash. A doctor and two nurses rush to her side and scramble around with a ton of equipment, trying to keep her alive.

When they finish, the IV is on her other arm; they’ve cleaned up the blood, an oxygen mask covers her mouth and nose, she has defibrillators on her chest, and a heart monitor on one of her fingers, all for nothing. Her condition is stable, but the oxygen hangs loose in the outlet, and will fall out, letting Claire pass before sunrise. Three hours left.

Meanwhile, I can’t stop staring at her. I’ve protected her from so much crap in her life for this? No. I won’t let her die. She thinks I abandoned her; that our last conversation never happened. I’ll most likely lose my wings for changing fate, but I’d be able to live a happy, mortal life with her. When death comes, I’ll fight him off. I’m her guardian angel and I will protect her. That’s my job.

It’s strange. If she hadn’t gotten out of bed, I’d still be standing at her window, waiting for her to die. I would have let her pass believing that I don’t care about her. A smirk finds its way onto my lips. This is why I love her.

Because her ambition drove me.