Guardians

I stood in the middle of a large, circular room. Rows upon rows of seats covered the walls, leaving a small circle in the middle of the room, where I was standing. The ceiling was round, like half of a sphere. It was a light, creamy color. The chair I sat in was a small, wooden stool. In front of me, there was a podium, with a tall woman standing behind it, her dark auburn hair pulled back into a strict bun, her black-wired rectangular glasses framing her dark green eyes. She was wearing a black pantsuit with a white blouse underneath . Twelve other people sat in the row behind her, mostly men, with a few women. “Kieran Fosters, I presume?” She asked in a strict, business-like tone, her green eyes gazing at me, the way a cat might gaze at a mouse before pouncing.
“Yes, ma’am.” I muttered, looking up at her.
She looked down at her papers through her glasses, scanning them quickly. “You died at 11 PM on Friday, July 13th of this year, correct?” I nodded, and she continued. “A drunk driving accident, caused by one of your friends that you allowed to drive you home?” Again, I nodded, slower this time. “Okay. Has someone explained to you why you are here?” This time, I shook my head. The woman pursed her lips in annoyance. “Well, you are dead. This is… Heaven, or some form or the afterlife.” From her tone, I could tell that she didn’t believe in Heaven, or Hell, just some kind of endless existence after you die. “Each of us here are what you could be called Angels. I am –“
I coughed, interrupting her. As she stared at me in annoyance, and everyone else stared at me in shock, I asked, “So Angels exist? What about Heaven, and Hell? God, and Lucifer? Do they exist?” Everyone continued staring at me in shock; apparently, little Miss Angel here didn’t get interrupted often.
Her lips thinned. “There currently is no evidence, although many Angels believe that Heaven and Hell do exist, and, along with it, God and Lucifer.” When I didn’t say anything, she continued. “As I was saying, I am Jemina, an Arch Angel. There are three ranks of Angels. Guardian Angel is the lowest, then comes Avenging Angels, and, at the highest, comes Arch Angel. The job of a Guardian Angel is to save humans, anonymously. If you are caught, you are casted down from this afterlife, and stripped of your wings. You become a Fallen Angel.” Her voice was tightly controlled at the mention of Fallen Angels. Distractedly, I wondered what her problem with the Fallen was. “The job of an Avenging Angel is to police the Angels, stripping them of their wings if they are caught, and making sure that they do not go wild. Arch Angels is the highest rank. There are only 13 Arch Angels, including myself.” So the twelve people that were sitting behind her, those were the other Arch Angels. “We, the Arch Angels, are like a government for the Angels. We vote about what Guardian should be assigned to which human, and so on, and so forth. All of the Angels report to us. You, Kieran, are here to be assigned a human to Guard. You will become a Guardian Angel.” I swallowed, my throat thick. I was skinny, and tall, but not very strong. How was I supposed to Guard someone? “We have located a girl that needs a Guardian still. Very soon, she will be in danger, and you will need to Guard her, without her seeing you. Do you understand that?” Very stiffly, I nodded. Jemina smiled. “Good.”
Behind her, a large projection screen quickly pulled down, as if pulled by an unseen force. A picture of a girl was on it. She was barely older than seventeen, with straight, willowy brown hair, light freckles, and dark blue eyes. I stared at the picture, and Jemina started talking again, but I didn’t here her. This was the girl I was supposed to Guard, this was the girl who it was up to me to save. Because, if I didn’t save her, then I would be casted down, as a Fallen. Not only would I be casted, but she, this girl, would die. And it would be all my fault. After I got over that fact, I zoned back in.
“This is Kristen Roberts, a high schooler at SinClair High in a city called SinClair. Her father is dead, and she lives with her mother in a small bungalow on Clinton Street. Soon, she will be put in a situation in which she may die. You must save her, or she will die, and you will lose your wings.” Thank you, Miss Obvious. I kind of already got that memo, I thought sarcastically.
“When will I get my wings?” I asked, avoiding anything sarcastic. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to upset her. At least, not yet.
“Right now.” She said, and waved her hand. I looked behind me, expecting to see large, white fluffy wings, but there was nothing. I didn’t feel any different, either.
“Where are they?” I looked back at Jemina, confused.
Jemina laughed, surprising me. She didn’t seem like someone who laughed a lot. “They are invisible, Kieran.”
“Oh.” My voice was slightly disappointed. “So no flying?”
She laughed again. “Yes, no flying. Sadly.”
“What about you? Do you get to fly?” I looked up at her. As if in an answer, she unfurled large, tawny wings, about fifteen feet of wingspan. I’m pretty sure my jaw dropped. “What about Avenging Angels? Do they get wings?”
“Yes, yes they get wings.”
“Well, then, why can’t I have wings?”
Jemina smiled. “Because.”
“But don’t I need to, like, fly to save people?”
This made her frown thoughtfully. “No.”
I huffed, giving up. Fine. Be that way, I thought. No wings would make it harder for me to save the girl – Kristen. Maybe it actually was impossible. Maybe she was going to die, and I was going to be casted down. Or, maybe I was going to actually save her, and succeed. Maybe, just maybe.