When Emily was five, she was in an accident. A bad accident. After the collision, the young girl recalled lifting her head and feeling something stinging her eyes. She could not stop coughing, due to the heavy smoke in the air filling her small lungs.

Emily started crying. She couldn't help it. There was something heavy pinning her to the carpeted car floor, crushing her legs. She could see her dad, slumped against the wheel, asleep. Blood covered half of his face, at least the half that she could see.

"Mommy?" she choked out, searching desperately. She screamed hysterically when she saw what it was that was pinning her down. Her mother, engulfed in flames. Looking up, Emily saw that her father was in the same condition, as well as most of the car. Emily started to feel the flames from her mother's body lick at her legs and start eating her skirt. Sobbing in pain and fear, Emily wrapped her arms around her small chest, just wanting everything to end.

A new smell leaked through her delicate nostrils, causing her to wrinkle her nose in distaste. If Emily would have been older, she would have recognized the odor as the one of gasoline leaking from a tank. Emily closed her eyes, tired of searching for oxygen in the thick air. The cool darkness felt so much better.

Emily was so far gone that she could hardly feel two small arms wrap around her and pull her away from the flaming wreckage. She didn't see the small figure dart away from her body, but did hear the sirens.

After having the blood wiped from her tear-stained face and the rubber oxygen mask replace it, Emily recalled glancing around at the blurry crowd of spectators and seeing, all alone half-hidden behind a tree, a pale boy staring right at her.

Andrew could not help but watch her intently. Even though Andrew was but seven, he also could not help but blame himself for Emily's injuries. He felt tears stinging his eyes for the first time in his young life, and was confused.

Andrew watched silently as his unconscious client was hoisted into the ambulance. He brought his hands up to wipe the foreign moisture from his face. He did not noticed when Matthew, his mentor and friend, approached him from behind.

Matthew was surprised to see Andrew crying. As long as he could remember, Andrew had been a cocky child. Cocky, but diligent. Never once had he taken his eye off of the young girl in the two years that he had been assigned to watch her.

"You saved her," Matthew reminded him, "That is the important thing." Andrew jumped, not realizing that Matthew had been behind him most of the time. The young guardian angel turned and hugged Matthew tightly, crying even harder.

"It's all my fault," he announced, "I took my eyes off of her for a few minutes, and she almost died." Matthew smiled a bit. Andrew sounded like a parent, or a guardian angel that was qualified to be on his own. At age seven, Andrew was the youngest angel to do so. He was so much like.well, that wasn't important.

The car that held the bodies of Emily's parents exploded, sending flame and debris out into the area where Andrew and Matthew stood. Although fire surrounded the two angels, they remained unscathed and unharmed. In fact, the two remained almost as pale as ghosts.

Andrew pulled away from Matthew, his brown eyes wide with surprise. A new thought had entered his mind.

"Is this what it feels like?" Andrew inquired innocently, "That time you talk about, where you find that one person?" Matthew smiled at Andrew's question.

"Yes Andrew," he replied, "They are called soul mates."