Angel of Mine

~*~I got the idea for this story while listening to to Monica's 'Angel of mine'. It's a beautiful song, and while listening to it, I liked the idea of someone being sent down from above to watch over us. "You came into my life sent from above When I lost all hope you showed me love/Nothing means more to me than what we shared No one in this whole world can ever compare." Maybe you've lost a loved one, or maybe you can imagine what it's like. I know that it gives me a nice feeling to think that our loved ones who have passed are watching over us. Enjoy.~*~



You know those times when things are going extremely well and everything is going your way, and nothing can bring you down? And, you know how you're thinking in the back of your head, Things are just going too well. Something has gotta go wrong.

I've had that feeling. I had that feeling, that soaring yet sickening feeling for almost eight years. Things were just going way to well. For my luck, anyway.

I met Zac in college, and I was attracted to him from the start. He was smart and funny, and he was brimming with his own attractive and original charisma. He was they guy that everyone knows, everyone wants to hang out with, and even the cynics secretly wanted to be friends with him. I knew of him all through my freshman and part of my sophomore year.

I didn't meet him until just after my 20th birthday. I was walking to my dorm after class and I was carrying so many books that I couldn’t' see my own feet. (A mistake from the start) To make a painful story short, I fell down in the middle of the crowded commons area on that fateful fall day.

Some people stared, some people laughed, others pointed and laughed. I pulled myself up (it was one of those where you fall flat on your face and everything you're holding goes everywhere) and I was starting to collect all of my pencils and little containers of paint (I'm was an art major) and I remember looking at everyone and thinking, Do you not have the decency to at least help me?

And then, out of nowhere, he came walking up. I heard him put his bookbag down on the pavement of the commons and he started to pick up my paints and coloring pencils.

"You okay? You had quite the fall there." He said, smiling at me.

"Oh, yeah. I'm okay." I said, pushing my glasses up my nose. I kept my eyes on the ground. I rushed to get all my paints up.

"What's your name? I don't think we've met." He said, crouching down to see into my eyes. He looked so funny, his shoulder-length blonde hair almost touching the ground as he tried make eye contact with me while I was staring at the ground.

"Uh, Ena. My name is Ena." I said, sitting back on my knees.

"Nice to meet you, Ena." He said, offering his hand. I looked at him blankly for a moment then laughed nervously and shook it.

"Zac. Zac Hanson. Nice to meet you." He said. That was the first time I saw the heart-stopping smile directed at solely me. I felt my breath slow and my heart start to race. I managed to crack a nervous smile at him.

"Uh, yeah, likewise." I managed to stutter. He watched me shove the rest of my paints into my bag and arrange my zip up sweatshirt. I glanced up and he was still crouching a few feet away from me, smiling, his caramel eyes twinkling.

"Um, thanks. I....have to go. I'm late for a class."

"Oh, sorry. What class? If it's on the other side of campus, I can give you a ride."

"Uh, art. It's an independent....s-study." I stuttered, shoving my glasses up my nose again.

"Uh, you just said you were late for a class." He said, laughing.

"I meant...." I closed my eyes for a second, my head screaming, Shut your mouth before you embarrass yourself, dork!"I meant t-that...I....I need to go." I spat out.

Zac gave me a look like I was a little crazy in the head and then smiled again.

"Okaaaay." He said slowly, still grinning at me.

"Um....bye." I said, re-adjusting my bag.

"Bye." Zac said. What I didn’t' know until years later, was that he stayed there and watched after me, still holding on of the tubes of paint he'd forgotten to give me. I also didn't see the smile on his face as he repeated my name.

"Nice to meet you, Ena." He said to himself. He took the paint tube and stuck it in his pocket. That was the first and certainly not the last time I was to talk to Zac Hanson.



I didn't see Zac for another week and a half. I remember that fairly well too. I was once again, carrying a few books, my sketched (which was always bursting with my sketches) a few notebooks, my current reading book (Billie Letts, in case you must know) and on my shoulder was my bag with all my art supplies. Needless to say, I could once again no longer see my own feet. I made it to the top of the stairs and once again tripped, fell straight forward, and landed on all my books and my chest. My sketched was the next thing to flying. All of the countless loose papers I had carelessly stockpiled in there went flying all over the carpeted floor of the vocational building.

"OOOF!" I grunted, hitting the floor. I remember just laying there for a moment, cursing myself for carrying too many books.

"Why do we always meet like this?" I heard a voice ask.

I looked up and pushed my glasses back up my nose.

"Hi." Zac said, looking down at me.

"Uh, Hi." I said, struggling to get back up. I quickly started collecting my sketches. Zac bent down to help me pick a few up, and he started examining them as I scurried to pick them up.

"Wow...these are cool. Do you always do people?" He asked.

"What?" I asked, looking up.

"These. These are awesome. Can you do anything besides people?"

"Well...y-yeah." I said quietly.

"Like what?"

"I like to....pick an object and draw it. Or something in nature."

"Wow." He said, flipping through the sketches he held in his hands. "These are great."

"T-thanks." I stuttered.

"You're a great artist."

"Not really."

"Nah. I could never do that. Are you going to art?"

"Yeah." I said, managing to look at him. His blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail that day, I noticed.

"Well, I gotta go now, but hopefully I'll see you around soon. Hopefully you won't be on the ground."

"Yeah. maybe I won't." I said, smiling nervously.

"Try not to carry so many books." he said, standing up and picking up his bookbag.

"Right." I said, giving a small laugh.

"See ya....Ena." He said, smiling.

"Bye." I said. I was the one watching him that time.



The third time I saw Zac was at my door. Actually, I was leaving my room to mail something and I opened the door and ran into him. (Yes, I managed to stay on my feet)

I grabbed the envelopes off my desk and threw on my coat to run to the post office that Sunday evening. I opened my door and almost ran right into Zac.

"Careful there." He said, laughing.

"Oh!" I exclaimed, jumping.

Zac stepped back as I re-adjusted my glasses on my face. "Hi." I said, giving him a shy smile.

"Hi." He said.

"Uh, didn't expect to see you here." I said.

"You stayed on your feet this time." He pointed out.

"Yeah." I said, laughing nervously. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a tube of paint and handed it to me.

I accepted it, frowning slightly. "What's this?" I asked.

"Oh....Well, when we met, remember how you fell and dropped all your paintubes?"

"Yeah..."

"Well I found this later, after you left, and I thought you might want it back." He said, as if it were an everyday duty.

"Oh..." I said, turning the bottle of red paint over in my hand. "Thanks."

"No problem." He said, grinning. He shoved his hands back into his coat pockets. "So...where ya headed?"

"Um...the post office."

"Want some company?" He asked hopefully.

I looked at him for a moment, not sure what to say.

"I don't have to go....I've got things to do, I really shouldn't be bothering you." He said, turning to leave.

"Wait!" I said.

"What?"

"You can come. I'd like you to." I said.

Zac's face broke into a grin. "Cool."

"All right." I shut the door and locked it, remembering my keys.

"Wanna go out for some coffee afterwards?" He asked.

I turned to look at him, not believing what I was hearing. "With me?" I asked.

Zac looked around. "Well, no one else is around." He snorted. "Yes, you."

"Oh....okay."

"Cool." He said. "Let's go."

And so it began.



Zac and I grew really close for awhile...We dated tons, but I think I finally let him kiss me on our eighth or ninth date. I would always scamper into my room at the end of the evening or make up some stupid excuse as to why I couldn't have him in or go get coffee.

He was one of my first real kisses. I'd been kissed before, but not like that. He told me earlier that he hadn't kissed a lot of people before me, but I couldn't have been able to tell. He pinned me in my doorway with the door half open and I remember he had to hold the doorknob behind me so that I wouldn't dart into the room. He held the door open with one hand and put the other around my waist.

"You're not getting away." He said, then turned his head and laid one on me. Me, being the dork I was, just stood there, rigid and frozen as icicle. I remember feeling his hair tickle my cheek and his warm tongue on my bottom lip. There were a lot more kisses in my doorway.

After college, we dated seriously for about two years. He lived in a tiny house on the edge of town, and I lived about six miles away in an apartment. The funny thing was, I couldn't ever remember having many bad fights with Zac. We got along really well. When we first started dating, I didn't think we could possibly have anything in common. I was wrong. Not only was he cute, but he was also very smart. Of course, him being such a goofball, no one would have guessed it. We talked about everything from people to art to music to celebrities. With Zac by my side, the rest of my college years had just flown by.

What I couldn't believe was my luck. How could I have landed such a great guy when I was one of the shyest and geekiest girls at school? That was about the time that it dawned on me that things were going a little too well.

We got married that year. We were out getting a Christmas tree, and it was the most beautiful thing....



"How about this one?" I asked, looking at a small tree.

"What?" He asked, laughing. "That's too small."

"Zac, if it's any bigger, how in the heck will you get it into your house?"

"I'll manage. We always used to get a big one back home, and I'm determined to get a big one for my first Christmas in my apartment." He said with a grin.

"Okay." I said, shuffling through the falling snow, searching for the perfect tree.

"No, no.....no, no...." Zac walked in circles, inspecting the trees.

I rounded a corner, keeping my eyes peeled. I suddenly gasped. In front of me stood one of the most beautiful Christmas trees I had ever seen. It was tall, almost eight feet, and the falling snow and the moonlight made it almost glow in the darkness. The needles were a lovely, bright green color, and the branches were somewhat thin, perfect for hanging ornaments.

"Oh wow." I said, smiling softly to myself.

"What, you find one?" He asked, coming up behind me.

He looked up at the tree. "Oh wow."

"Yeah."

"I think we found it." he said.

"Zac." I said, turning around. "That will never fit in your house, much less ontop of your truck." I said.

"Nah." He said, whipping out his chainsaw. "This one's it."

"Yeah." I said, grinning at the shining tree. "Wait, let's look at it a little longer before you cut it down."

"Okay." He said, setting down his chainsaw. He stepped back a few feet with me to gaze at the magnificent tree.

"I've never seen a tree so pretty."

"Really? We used to get ones like this every year." He said. "They're more fun. They've got more character." He put his arms around me and rested his chin on my shoulder as we observed.

"We always had fake ones. My brothers were allergic." I muttered, watching my breath make clouds in the cold night air.

"You mean you've never had a real tree before?" He asked.

"Nope."

"Wow. We'll share this one." He said.

"What? Zac, we live in different apartments." I said.

"Let's change that. Move in with me. Marry me." He said bluntly.

"What?" I asked, turning around quickly to look at him.

He dug in his pocket and pulled something out dropped to one knee. "Marry me." He said again.

My jaw literally dropped open. No way. This was not happening. Zac was too perfect for me....I was too...too....ordinary.

"I don't know what to say...I....."

"Ena Elizabeth Staab, will you marry me?" He asked again.

"Yes." I heard myself say.

Oh wow.



To say the tree was beautiful was an understatement. Zac and I spent literally hours applying white lights to the branches, along with mismatched ornaments, tinsel, ribbons, and garlands. The tree was so bright in his tiny living room that we could almost see perfectly in the dark with only the lights of the tree.

That was my first night spending the night in his fairly new house. He stayed with me all night a few times in college senior year when my roommate was gone, but other than that, I hadn't been at his house much. It was a tiny house - It had a small living room that was connected with the kitchen, a tiny office, a bathroom, and a laundry room downstairs, and upstairs was a tiny bedroom and Zac's room, which had a bathroom in it. It was safe to say that the Christmas tree took up a fourth of the room.

Our wedding was small - Only our parents, siblings, and about five friends were there. We were married that April in a church, and our honeymoon was to Italy for five days. (courtesy of my parents).



"This is the most beautiful place I have ever seen." I said, looking around. Zac and I were sitting in an outside cafe in Greece, enjoying lunch. Around us were old, cultural buildings, a beautiful language, and some of the most interesting people I have ever seen.

"Nothing compares, does it?" he asked.

"Nope."

"Cept' for you." He said, grinning.

"Zac..." I said, blushing. I sipped my soda, embarrassed.

"What? Everyone loves flattery." He said, leaning back in his chair.

I burst out laughing. One thing about Zac, he was always honest.

"No, but this is a pretty cool place. I've never seen anything like this."

"Me either." I said, looking around, my stomach full of excitement. "Let's see everything. Everything there is to see. Do everything. I want to take this in as much as I can." I said. I could feel his eyes on me. "What?" I asked, laughing.

"This is gonna be awesome." He said, smiling at me.

"Well, Italy's an exciting place."

"No." He said. "Being married to you."

I smiled, blushing again. "And vice versa." I said.

He leaned over the table to kiss me sweetly. "Still feels like the first time." He said, sitting back down.

Behind him, a table with four old men smoking cigars chuckled, and when Zac turned around, they all winked and waved.

Zac turned back to me and we both started cracking up.

"I love you." I said, taking his hand across the table.

"I love you too." He said, squeezing my hand. "Honey." He finished with a grin.



We had been married for about two years. They were the best two years of my life. I belonged to Zac, and he belonged to me. We spent every waking moment we had free with each other. We had other friends, and I'm sure we saw them, but the first few years it was just the two of us, in a wonderful romantic blur.

I would get home from work about the same time he did, and we'd cook dinner together in the tiny kitchen, then sit down and talk about the day as we ate. I loved eating dinner with Zac. Whether it was over a romantic Italian dinner or re-heated pizza, it was always special. Then we'd was the dishes together, and that was even fun. He'd put too much soap in the water, then we'd start kissing or something, and then we'd forget about the running water and the sink would run over before we'd realize it.

Then we'd sit on the couch and watch TV or maybe a movie. On Sunday mornings we'd sleep in, and Zac's lab, Flea, would go get the paper through the doggie door and bring it to us. Then we'd lay in bed until eleven and read the paper. Just the little things mattered.

It was in February that the topic of kids came up. We were washing the dishes after dinner one night.

"So, how many kids do you want to have?" Zac asked nonchalantly, drying a dish.

I nearly dropped the plate I was washing. "What?"

"Kids." He said. "How many?"

"Um, I don't know, why?" I asked, brushing my bangs out of my eyes.

"Oh, I dunno. Don't you think it's time to get started?" He asked.

"Uh..." I was caught off guard. "Sure." I said.

"So how many?"

I laughed. "Zac, I don't know. How many do you want to have?"

"Twelve." He said, then looked at me in all seriousness. My stomach fell and the color drained from my face as I looked at him, shocked.

He suddenly burst out laughing. I smacked him playfully on the back with the wet rag I was using.

"Hey!" He said, cracking up.

We both laughed at the thought of having twelve children.

"You should have seen the look on your face! You thought I was serious!" He said, still chuckling.

"Yeah yeah." I said, turning my attention back to the dishes. "You're from a big family, you could have wanted to continue the tradition."

"Yeah, I guess." He chuckled to himself for a few more minutes. "So, how many?"

"Oh..." I stopped scrubbing and thought a moment. "Three or four."

"Sounds good." He said. "Of course, we can have that many and then go from there." He grinned at me sideways.

I burst out laughing again, and leaned over to kiss him.

"So when should we get started?" He asked.

"I dunno." I said, handing him another clean dish."

"How bout now?" He asked.

"What?" I asked. "Are you okay? Maybe you're sick." I said, reaching over to touch his forehead.

"Nah." he said, grabbing me into a bear hug.

"Ahhhh!" I screeched.

"Let's go!" He said, picking me up, then heading for the stairs.



I remember it was rainy that day. It was about a month later in March. A very typical spring day. The roads were slick, and I had to go slow to avoid sliding, and the rain was coming down in sheets. I glanced at the clock on my dash. 4:58 pm. I would probably beat Zac home. He probably had already left his work; he usually got off around quarter til five, but his work was farther away from where mine was. As I drove home, I thought about what we had that we could make dinner with.

"Soup? That was two nights ago. Chinese was Sunday....oh, we could get Mexican from that new place....Crap, what's it called?" I talked to myself as I drove home. I parked my car at the curb of our house, and rushed inside. I didn't think anything of the fact that Zac's truck wasn't in the driveway. I usually beat him home.

I threw down my bag and my purse by the door. I peeled off my wet spring jacket and hung it up, then threw my keys on the kitchen counter by the phone. I glanced at the clock, seeing that it was five twenty. Zac would be home in a few minutes.

I searched around on the counter for the number of the new Mexican place, but I couldn't find it. I finally gave up and threw some pasta into a pan on the stove, then raced upstairs to change. I threw on some flannel shorts and a T-shirt, and I was about to put my hair into a pony tail when the phone rang.

"Coming! Coming!" I yelled, racing down the stairs. It had rung three or four times when I finally picked it up.

"Hello? Hello?"

"Ena?" I heard Jessica, Zac's sister on the other line.

"Hey Jess, what's up?" I said.

"Ena...." I could hear her take a deep breath and then sniff.

"Jess, what's wrong?" I asked.

"There's been an accident."

"Oh my god. Are you okay? Where are you? Jess, tell me..."

"I'm fine. It's Zac....." She started crying again, and I couldn't understand.

I knew. Something had happened to Zac.

"He's....he's.....dead." She said. I heard the words, and I didn't. I collapsed on the kitchen floor, into a ball. I began to wail. I didn't hear the food burning or the thunder outside. All I heard was the sound of my deepest pain.



Taylor came to get me a few hours later. He didn't say anything when he found me. His clothes were wrinkled, and his hair was stringy and in his face, and it was evident he had been crying. He got down on the floor with me, and took me in his arms. Then we cried. I have never felt a more stabbing pain in my life. It was a pain so deep, so severe, full of more pain than any knife or gun could give. I felt it in my body, my heart, my soul. It was a pain and sadness so great that I couldn't escape it.

The first few days I honestly don't remember. I've successfully blocked them from my mine. I stayed at Zac's parent’s house, because I couldn't stand to be alone, not in that house. I couldn't believe it.

Zac was dead. He had been killed in a car accident, coming home from work. At 4:58 pm, he was pronounced dead at the scene. The roads were very slick, and the car in front of him had braked, causing him to swerve into the oncoming traffic, and he had been killed upon impact of the other truck.

I remember seeing a picture of his black, mangled truck. He loved the truck so much, and he took such good care of it. I used to sit out in the driveway in a lawn chair on summer evenings, and he would wash that truck. It looked so painful. Everything looked painful.

We spread his ashes up at the Hanson's summer house. Zac loved that place. We had gone up there several times with them, to spend several weeks. It was a log cabin looking over a beautiful lake, up in Wisconsin. I went out on a boat with his parents and his brothers and sisters. It was really beautiful, to tell you the truth. It was just his family and I, and we got up at the crack of dawn, and we all stood on the boat and watched the sun rise. Just as the sun was starting to reflect on the waters of the clear lake, we poured his ashes into the water. I don't remember crying; all I remember is being completely numb for such a long time.



The first time I went back to the house hurt the most. His clothes were on the floor of our bedroom. His hair was still stuck in his brush. His dirty towel still hung on the bathroom door. His forgotten watch lay on the nightstand. His side of the bed was still unmade.

"Hi boy." I said, petting Flea. The dog let his sad face rest in my hands. He knew too.

I shut the front door and threw my keys in the counter by the phone, like always. I picked up a few things in the kitchen, then went to the living room. I looked around, looking at the framed pictures of Zac and I, Zac with his family, and various other ones. I felt the familiar lump in my throat, and I sat down on the couch, and Flea jumped up beside me. He rested his head in my lap.

"He's not coming home." I said, patting his head. "he's not coming home."



I remember lying in bed that night. It was no use to sleep; I thought of him so much during the day, that my dreams were full of him. Every night, a different set of dreams. In one dream we would be eating dinner, another we would be saying good-bye for work, or we would be making love. They just kept coming. It was really useless to sleep. It was useless to do anything. I felt empty and completely dead inside. Everything reminded me of him.

It took me a long time to figure out that I was now alone. Zac wasn't coming home, we would never eat dinner together again. I had to set the table for one now, and no one would wash the dishes with me. No one would sit on the couch and watch TV with me; and no one would hold me during thunderstorms. I hated them, and Zac would always sit with me by a window to watch the lightning. I had to get used to living without the love of my life by my side; I was alone in this scary world.



"Hey." My friend Sonia tapped me on the shoulder.

"Hey." I said, turning around. "Haven't seen you in awhile."

"I've been on my honeymoon!" She said excitedly.

"Oh, that's great, where did you go?" I asked.

"We went to the Bahamas. It was great, especially this time of year."

"Oh yeah, I'll bet." I agreed.

"It was so great. We spend tons of time on the beach."

"Yes, you got a tan! You look great!"

"Well you've got lots of vacation time, you should go down!" She said.

I shook my head. "No....no....I wouldn't want to go alone. It's for two, really, isn't it?"

Sonia thought a moment. "I guess you're right."

"That's okay." I said. "Are you going to eat?"

"Care if I join you?" She asked, sitting down across from me.

"No, not at all." I said, smiling. It would be nice to have some company. I was in a diner near the place where I worked, and Sonia worked in the same building, and we had been friends for nearly three years.

"So, what have you been up to?" She asked me.

"Oh...." I sighed. "Not much, to tell you the truth. Just work." I gave her a shaky smile.

Sonia smiled sympathetically. "You shouldn't bury yourself in your work, sweetie."

"I know." I said, looking down at my napkin that was folded on my lap. I felt a lump form in my throat. I rested my head in my hand, my elbow propped on the table.

"He would want you to get out. It's been almost a year." She said.

"I'm not sure...."

"I know a great guy that I know you'd love." She said.

I was shocked. Never had I thought about that... "You mean date? Go out on a date?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Nothing serious. Just one little date."

I shook my head. "No, I don't think so. No. I couldn't."

"Honey, he wouldn't want you to live like this."

"Sonia, I can't. I would feel wrong. Besides....that would just make me even more sad, because it wouldn't be him."

"But that's the point. Meet someone new. It doesn't have to be serious. Just get out and have fun. You're not even thirty. You're a pretty girl, Ena. You deserve to let loose."

"I don't think so. Not now. It's too soon." I said. I threw down a couple dollar bills on the table, and stood up.

"Where are you going?" She asked.

"I just...I need to get home. I'll see you later." And with that, I left Sonia, just sitting at the table, her mouth still open to say something.

"What's gotten into her?" She asked.

"I don't know." The waitress said, picking up the money. She gave Sonia a look of sympathy, then left.

"Wish I knew." Sonia mumbled, stirring her coke with her straw.



I barely made it into my car before I broke down. It was raining that March night, and it was nearly seven at night. I fumbled to get the door open, and when I finally did, I jumped into the car and laid my head on the steering wheel and sobbed.

"It hurts so bad." I cried, as if he could hear me. After a few minutes, I grabbed my purse and dug around. A few seconds later, I found what I was looking for. I pulled out the mini bottle of aspirin that I carried in my purse. My head hurt so bad from crying and thinking so much; I used the aspirin often.

I popped the bottle open, and threw on in my mouth, swallowing. My eyes dropped to the bottle in my hand. I estimated that there were at least twenty of them in there; maybe twenty five. Would that be enough to do it? The more I looked at them, the more I was tempted to just take them and take them and take them. It would be somewhat longer than how I had imagined my death, but would it be worth it? To die and leave this body, this earth, this hell?

I stared into the bottle. I dumped about seven or eight into my hand and swallowed them quickly. I laid my head back on the seat and stared at the passenger side window. I watched as the rain drops slid down the car window, and how the insides of my car were starting to fog up. I don't know how long I laid there; but I felt sick. I barely got the door open before I got out and emptied the contents of my stomach into the pavement. I was thankful that no one was around.

I slammed the car door shut, and started walking. I didn't know where I was going or what I was doing. I was just so sick, so numb, and so completely tired of feeling dead inside. My feet hurt and my stomach was churning, but I walked on. I guess I felt I was going to go someplace or find someone that rainy March night as I walked along. I walked into the street, and barely heard the car horn. I looked up just as it slammed on the brakes. There is no way he can stop.... I heard the tires slide on the wet pavement. I prepared myself for the blow, but it never came. Suddenly I felt very strange, almost warm. It sped around me and drove on.

I stood in the street for a moment, replaying that scene in my head. The car had been coming very fast, and didn't break until I was only ten feet in front of it. How could it have stopped?

I almost died, I thought. I've had two chances in less than an hour, and I've blown them both. Did I want to commit suicide? Did I want to be hit by a car? Did I want to die, just to be with him? I would have given anything to be held in his arms again. I would have given anything to hear his voice. I would have given anything to feel his lips on mine, or watch him play with Flea, or have him put his arm around my shoulders, or feel weight on his side of the bed at night.

I cried. I walked. I trudged on for nearly half an hour until stopping on a sidewalk. I looked around. I had no idea where I was. Nothing looked familiar. Great. Now I was tired, sick, crying, and lost.

I wanted to die. Nothing could get any worse. If I could die right there, I wouldn't have cared. I could have left my already dead and lifeless body, and been with him. Nothing was stopping me. But, as I walked along the sidewalk in the rain, along the deserted streets, I couldn't.

I found myself in a park, not much longer. I walked around for awhile. I walked over to an area with trees around it, with a clearing in the middle. I felt myself fall to the ground, my knees to weak to hold me. My hands felt the grass beneath me, yet they didn't. My body was suddenly racked with sobs again. I buried my face in my hands and sobbed.

When in doubt, ask God. God has all the answers...he will always help in a time of need.... My mother's voice rang in my head.

"Why?!?!" I cried out. "Why did you take him from me?"

I wiped my eyes and stood up. "I loved him so much! I loved him more than life itself!" I yelled. "I loved him more than anything and you took him away! Damn it, I want to know why! I want to know why you took him from me!"

Was God listening? Would he hear me if I shouted? He hadn't been there when Zac was killed, and almost nothing could get me to believe that he was there now.

I stood there, shivering in the rain. "It hurts so bad." I said, sniffing. "I miss him so much. He was all I had. I loved him so much. I still love him just as much." I said, more to myself this time.

I stood there for a few more moments. I should go home. But I couldn’t move. My feet seemed to stay in that same spot, in the wet, muddy grass. Suddenly I stopped shivering. My breath slowed down, and a wave of calm and warmth seemed to wash over my body. My breathing slowed down, and my tense muscles relaxed. I could no longer feel the cold rain hitting my body.



I closed my eyes and waited. All I saw was black at first, then white...then images of Zac started running in my mind. It was as if I was watching them in my head. Of all the things I was scared of, the thought of forgetting the memories and loosing him completely scared me the most. I let out a calm breath.

He was with me. I could feel it. He was finally with me.

"Zac." I barely managed to whisper.

I'm here....I always was, and I always will be. You aren't alone, Ena. I'm here.

I didn't know where the voice was coming from. I didn't even hear it, really. I felt it.

"Why can't I see you? I want to see you. Zac, I miss you so bad." I said, starting to cry again.

You can see me when you want to see me. I'm always with you.

"I want to be with you. I want to be with you forever. Let me die, Zac. There's nothing here for me." I sobbed.

You're so full of life, Ena. You and I both know you shouldn't live like this. You're so alive, Ena. We will be together. Just wait....

"I miss you so much." I said.

I miss you too. We'll be together. Until then, live your life. Live it for all it's worth. I'll always be watching.

"But I'm scared. I'm scared to be alone. I don't want to live alone, without you, Zac. I'm so scared." I said.

Don't be scared. I'm always with you. I can still protect you. Wherever you are, I'm there too.

I stood there, my eyes closed, still watching Zac, still alive. I sensed that I couldn't talk to him for long. I felt panicked. He was going to leave me again.

"When will I see you again?" I asked, desperate to know.

You'll see me when you need me....I'll always be there, I'll always watch over you.

"I still love you. I love you more than anything." I said.

I love you too. I'll never stop, Ena. I have to leave you now. We will be together. I'll wait for you.

"I miss you. Please don't leave." I said, still sobbing.

I have to go now. I love you, and I'll always be watching. Live your live, Ena. I can't wait to watch it.

"Good bye, Zac. I love you." I said, starting to cry again. I bit my lip and inhaled sharply, trying to grasp what was happening.

Good-bye, Ena, I love you. I'll always be with you....

With that, the warmth left my body. I fell to the ground, sobbing. I hurt so bad, all over. I couldn't live like this. Pain was consuming my body. I stood up, slowly, a few seconds later. I started walking again.

I couldn't explain what happened, and I never tried. Did my mind make it up? I didn't know. Was it a dream? I don't know. Was it something completely un-explainable? Yes. Did I question it? No.

I kept walking. I don't know how long I walked that night. I must have walked hours, searching for something that was lit up.

I finally saw a tavern that was still open, with warm lights glowing in the windows, and a few cars parked in front. I felt myself walk up and open the door. I stumbled into the bar, sopping wet and my eyes red from crying. I didn't even look at the few men sitting at the bar that stared at me as I came in.

I sat down at the bar, and put my face in my arms on the counter. Someone put a box of Kleenex and some icewater on the bar in front of me. I said nothing as I wiped my eyes and drank the water.

"Hard night?" A voice asked.

I nodded, not looking up.

"Can I get you anything?" He asked.

I shook my head no. That was all I needed. Alcohol.

He stood in front of me, behind the bar, just watching me. "You don't look to good."

I sniffed. "Thanks." I said, wiping my eyes again.

"I can get you something. Anything. No charge. You hungry?"

I paused a moment, then looked up. He was probably in his late twenties like I was, with curly dark brown hair and brown eyes. Hauntingly familiar brown eyes.

"Yeah." I said quietly, still staring into his eyes. I knew those eyes....No one else had those eyes....

"I don't have any money. I left my purse....I don't even know where." I said.

"That's okay, it's on the house." he said, getting out a few slices of bread.

"Turkey okay?" He asked.

"MmmHmm..." I nodded.

"Mustard?"

"Yeah."

"Here ya go." he said, handing me the sandwich.

I looked at it, then back at him. "Isn't this a bar?"

He nodded. "I get hungry sometimes in the middle of the day."

"I see." I said, taking a bite. Nothing had ever tasted so good. He poured me a coke and set it in front of me.

"There ya go." He said.

"Won't the owner get upset? Giving me free food and drinks?"

He grinned. "I don't think the owner would mind...."

"Ena." I said, taking a sip of the coke.

"Ena." he finished. "I'm Guy." He said.

"Hi." I said. "Why wouldn't the owner mind? He must be a nice guy."

"Thanks." He said. "I'm the owner."

"Oh." I said. I felt myself smile.

"So, you wanna tell me what you were doing, out at this hour, wandering around in the rain?"

I cracked a smile. "I don't really know." I said.

"Little soul searching?" He joked.

I laughed. "Yeah, you could call it that."

By the time I finished the sandwich and coke, it was well after two am, and the bar was closing.

"Oh shit, I gotta find my car." I said. "Where am I?"

"Um, I dunno, where's your car?"

I told him, and he whistled. "That's a good eight or nine miles that way." He pointed out the window. "Come on, I'll give you a ride."

I hesitated. "Come on, it's okay." He said, grabbing his coat and keys from behind the bar.

"I guess." I said, sliding off the stool.

We got into his car, a jeep. He drove me to where my car was, and it was still there, where I had parked it nearly seven hours earlier.

"Thanks." I said, getting out.

"Wait." He said. "Can I have your number?"

"What for?" I asked.

He shifted in his seat. "Well....so I could take you out for a real dinner sometime." He said.

"Oh." I said. This man wanted to take me out to dinner.

You're so full of life, Ena. Now live it.... Zac's words rang in my head.

"Here." I said, grabbing a marker on the dash of his car. I found a napkin on the floor and scribbled my name and number on the back, and handed it to him.

"Thanks." I said, closing the door. I managed to get in my car, and he waited until I had it started up until he drove away. I drove home, still unable to think straight. I took a hot shower, then climbed into bed. I remembered what Zac had said. He would always be with me. I looked over at his side of the bed. His words, real or not, had given me a certain sense of peace; I couldn't really explain it.

I laid in bed that night, thinking about Guy. His eyes. There was something about his eyes. They were the same brown, caramel colored eyes.....as Zac's.

Was it possible? Did Zac have something to do with this? Was he trying to tell me something? I closed my eyes, picturing Zac. He had told me to live my life. I willing, but I was also scared. I was going to continue with my life, this time without Zac by my side physically. But something told me he would always be with me in some way or another, and in some ways, more than one.




I look at you, looking at me
Now I know why they say the best things are free
You came into my life sent straight from above
When I lost all hope, you showed me love
Angel of mine

Email: morisstories@hotmail.com