Even If Saving You Sends Me to Heaven

Everyone knows about Heaven and Hell, but few people remember to factor Purgatory into the equation of life after death. I was no exception. I had no idea where I was until the angel showed up.

Fog blanketed my vision and I couldn’t see a thing except gray nothingness, so she seemed to appear out of nowhere. Although her straight blonde hair and soft blue eyes were friendly, I already sensed something annoyingly condescending about her manner.

Her casual clothing contradicted her elegant, pure white wings in a way that would’ve been comical if it wasn’t so outrageously strange.

Suddenly losing my patience, I sighed heavily and asked, “So where’s ‘the light’ I’m supposed to follow? I am dead, right?”

Her sweet smile irritated me more and more the longer it remained on her face. Her soothing voice somehow annoyed me instead of calming me down. “You are dead, Arianna,” she confirmed.

“Then where am I?” I demanded. “Surely this isn’t heaven?”

She shook her head somberly. “No, this isn’t heaven. Your doubt only proves that you’re not ready to go to heaven yet. First you must make up for your sins in Purgatory.”

I felt my confidence fade into anxiousness. “How do I do that?” I inquired. I’d thought that once I’d died, I would either be in paradise or burning. I didn’t like the uncertainty in this.

“You serve time as a guardian angel,” she explained as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “You’ll be assigned to someone who needs your help. You’ll figure out how to help him or her. Once your task is completed, you’ll be admitted into heaven.”

“Oh,” I replied, feeling surprised. “That doesn’t sound too hard.”

The angel laughed and said, “It depends on who you’re assigned to.”

Suddenly feeling nervous, I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my jeans and asked, “Well, who am I assigned to?”

She pulled papers out of a folder I hadn’t seen before, mumbling, “Let me see…” As she read, her expression displayed an amused and pitying smile. When she finished, she looked up and stated, “You weren’t a believer, were you?”

“Huh?” I uttered, taken aback by her asking me a question. “What does that have to do with anything?”

She shook her head, still wearing her condescending smirk. “Anyway, his name is Zane. Here are his papers and your handbook,” she said, all of a sudden sounding rushed.

“Handbook?” I inquired skeptically, eyeing the folder and small pamphlet she’d thrust into my hands. “Is this some kind of business?”

The angel shrugged. “Lots of people come here. I don’t have time to tell you all everything.” After glancing at her watch, she continued, “You’ll get to Zane about an hour before he wakes up, so you’ll have time to get through some of it. I have to go. Someone else is waiting for me.”

“Thanks?” I replied, feeling unsure.

“Good luck!” the angel exclaimed before she disappeared into the fog. Mere seconds later, the fog dissipated, and I was standing in what I guessed was Zane’s bedroom.

A muted TV set on MTV flickered on the dresser, giving me enough light to look around. Clothes and dirty dishes were strewn across the room. Posters of bathing-suit-clad women that made me frown and various heavy metal bands covered the walls.

Finally I turned to the bed, where a teenage boy was sleeping. His hair was a mess and his mouth was open, but he looked somewhat normal. I couldn’t see much in the flickering colors of light from the TV, but the sheets were twisted around him haphazardly.

Feeling awkward about watching him while he was sleeping, I moved closer to the TV, carefully stepping around the messy floor. There I would be able to read my handbook.

I opened to the first page and began to read: Welcome to your post as guardian angel! I rolled my eyes. First, see page 5 and read the rules. I leafed through the pages until I saw page five.

Rule 1: You must stay with the person you are assigned to at all times.
Rule 2: You must never reveal your presence to anyone.
Rule 3: You must protect the person you are assigned to at all costs, even if you are breaking rules 1 or 2.

It seemed simple enough to me, so I turned back to the first page. Next, read the file on the person you are assigned to. Sighing, I pushed aside a pair of jeans so I could sit on the floor. I set down the handbook and opened the folder.

I got to see what Zane really looked like for the first time. A picture on the top piece of paper depicted that he had tousled blonde hair, hazel eyes, full lips, and a slightly larger nose. He wore dark ripped jeans, a faded tee shirt, and a leather jacket. His expression was arrogant and confident, and he held himself like he didn’t care about a thing in the world.

I read more about him and learned he was a seventeen year old junior with average grades, and he had a little eleven year old half sister named Samantha. He didn’t know who his father was, and neither did his sister. His mom had died right after his sister was born, and they lived with their rich, single uncle. When I finished reading about him, my handbook instructed me to spend the day getting to know Zane by walking in his shoes.

Just as I was about to continue reading, his alarm clock went off.