Uum, well, hello. Here's a story, it's based off my little short story My Angel. It's good; I suggest you read it, maybe even before you read this. You don't have to, though.

I had actually thought about making that my prologue for this story, but I changed my mind. I like that on its own. This was also originally named Your Angel, but since I decided it will be separate from the short story, I named it My Human. If anyone comes up with a better title, let me know and I'll definitely consider it!

Anyway, in this story, I kind of suggest some things that may upset certain religions. I, myself, am agnostic and believe in reincarnation above anything else. I don't say that there is no God, but I do suggest he is different…you'll understand when you read it. It's nothing bad, so I hope no one becomes offended or anything and he doesn't have that much to do with the story, so…

Well, I hope you enjoy reading! Don't forget to review, constructive criticism is GREATLY APPRECIATED! Thanks!

My Human

Summary: She lived her short life, then became apart of his as he took his first breath. She watched him grow, then broke the rules of her new kind. She fell in love with him; her human. For she is his guardian angel, the one that he is never supposed to know.

Chapter One


I was eighteen when it happened. It was a tragedy in the eyes of my family and friends. I don't know what it was to me.

It was nighttime; so late. I don't think I had ever been out that late before. You see, I was always the good girl. I did well in school, played soccer and volleyball, participated in after school clubs. I rarely went to parties, never drank or did drugs and only had one boyfriend; that was during my sophomore year, though. I was a happy, healthy senior when it happened. I was with two of my four brothers. Yep, I had a big family; mom, dad, Chris and Joey (my twins, yeah, I was a triplet), Robby, Will and finally our two bull dogs Larry and Elvis.

I felt horrible when I saw the after affects that night had on my family. It tore them all apart. I tore them all apart.

Chris was driving, I remember. He was the first born. He had jet black hair like mine and chocolate brown eyes. He was singing, playfully, on the top of his lungs to the song on the radio. I didn't know what the song was, even then. It was loud though; one of those upbeat songs that always makes you want to jump up and dance as ungracefully as you possibly could. Those songs were my brother's favorites. Joey sat in the back seat. He was the second born, three minutes after Chris. He was the quieter of us three inseparable teens. His hair was the only difference between him and Chris. Instead of the long shaggy black locks that Chris had, Joey's hair was short, curly and brown. The last happy sound I heard that night was his laughter entwined with my own as we finally got Chris to stop singing.

It was something that was all too common in our time and town. For some reason, our local cops couldn't crack down on the problem. It had already killed so many people in our town. I just became one of many. We didn't live in a big town, it was quite small actually. So small that we only needed one high school; Miller High School, home to the blue and grey Huskies. School spirit was everywhere. We even painted the jeep my brothers and I shared from white to grey, then wrote and drew all over it in blue.

Too bad after that night, no one could ever use the old jeep anymore. Not that anyone in my family wanted to keep it anyway. It would just remind them of me; remind Chris and Joey of that night. It would have driven them mad.

We lived on a crooked street in a light blue house with white shutters. It was a nice size house with a fair sized front and back yard. We never had a fence but a single tree off to the side separated our house from the next. I loved our crooked street. My two best friends lived on it, as did Chris and Joey's three best friends, Robby's best friend and girlfriend and Will's whole group of friends; his first real friends, considering he was only six when I left him.

Whether all that's changed now, I do not know. I haven't been able to see them for a couple years now. With everything going on in my human's life, I haven't been able to leave him and watch my own family again.

That night had changed my reason of existence, you see. That night had ended my life suddenly and drastically. My brothers and I didn't even see the car swerving ahead of us. We were busy laughing and playing and living.

My family had found out later about the thirty eight year old drunk in his big bad pick-up truck who, after the accident, staggered away while covered in blood and collapsed in front of one of the buildings two blocks away. The man, more commonly known to us as Uncle Mac, died the next morning. He was my father's only brother and lets just say he did not accompany me to the clouds.

Actually, he was my father's half brother and a sadistic bastard in every sense of the word. He started to come around our house when it was only Chris, Joey, my parents and I. He would come banging on the door, shouting profanities and yelling about how badly he hated my dad.

The stupid jealous psychotic moron…

He was drunk all the time. A couple times he came around shouting disgusting fantasies he would have about my mom and me. The first time he did that, I was ten. Robby was around then, too. He was six. The second time Uncle Mac yelled these fantasies of his through our front door, I was thirteen. He did it again, twice, when I was fourteen. He never came back again afterwards. My dad had probably called the cops on his brother about twenty times. He found himself in jail with hangovers quite a bit. The first time Uncle Mac came over drunk, though, I remember dad took him by the collar and dragged him out along the curb near his ugly old pick-up and punched him good. It was the first time they'd 'talked' to each other in five years, apparently.

When I so unwillingly left them, they shattered. Both my mother and Chris had to take sleeping pills at night as well as anti-depressants. My father rarely came home and when he did, all he did was argue with my mom. All my brother's grades dropped tremendously and Joey refused to sleep at all. If he did, he was attacked by nightmares of me, of that night, and he would wake up with tears in his eyes. My twins had blamed themselves for the accident. And poor little Will just could not understand why I wanted to leave him. I never wanted to leave him.

It was just a shock. They never believed something like that could happen to our family. I never believed it, either. We had always taken each other for granted. I feel so miserable knowing that I am responsible for snapping my family into the reality of our cruel world.

Ignorance is bliss.

After a year of chaos and shrink bills, my family finally started to move on, for the most part. The pills had always stayed on everyone's nightstands and Chris and Joey would never really be the same again. They changed, just as I did.

After that one last night, I became something that I never even thought was real. I became what all virgins become after death.

I became an angel. A guardian angel.

I didn't understand it at first. I didn't understand our purposes and why. I didn't understand anything after death. They had said that there was no God controlling and creating every human. The other angels; they said that God was just one of us. He was another guardian angel. But he was different.

We guardian angels have rules, and God broke one of those rules, so he had to give up his role as a guardian angel and he received consequences for his actions. He is the only guardian angel to ever break a rule. That is why he is different. That is why he is 'known' among the humans.

The rule he broke was falling in love with his human.

You do not fall in love with your human. You love your human, but you do not fall in love with your human.

The consequence for breaking a rule is being sent down to roam the Earth, alone. There, the rule breaker is no longer a guardian angel, but a different type. Their wings fall off and they can never speak. They have no contact with other angels of any kind. The living may call them ghosts, but this, they are not.

Most ghosts are the prisoners of Hell. Like angels though, there are different types of ghosts; so not all of them are prisoners. The prisoners, however, are the ones that haunt the living people of Earth. The poltergeists, even. They stay in Hell, some never leave, others only leave when they haunt.

No, these rule breakers do not become prisoners of hell. They roam the Earth, like invisible humans. No one can see them, no one can help them. And they can help no one else. To guardian angels, that is the worst thing of all. Apparently God was to be the only one. But somehow, supposedly, God never became this type of angel. He became something else. No one ever heard from him again.

I do not know what type of angel God had become after the truth of his falling in love came out. No one knows.

No one ever speaks of it there, in the clouds.

Now, of course, I am having similar troubles. I have fallen in love with my human as well. The only difference is I won't do anything about it, like He did. If I don't do anything in my power to show that I have fallen in love with my human, no one will know.

My human; it was hard not to fall in love with him.

The second I died, he was being born, that is how I became his guardian angel. That is how angels and humans are chosen. He happened to be born on that same night, at that very same moment I took my last shaky breath.

Years went by as I watched him grow from a chubby toddler to a scrawny pre-teen and finally to the man - almost man - that he is now. His nineteenth birthday, the nineteenth anniversary of my death, is just around the corner.

I was so happy when he finally became close to my age, or at least the age that I died at. You see, once you die, your appearance will never change again. At least, not if you're a guardian angel, like I am. There are angels that continue to grow old after death(only in appearance) and once a century goes by, they 'die' and are born again on earth. It is a reincarnation of sorts. They have no memory of their past life or their time in the clouds.

My human is a boy named Ian. He lives far away from where my home was. I lived on the west coast of the US, Ian lives on the east. This boy, this sad boy that I know better than any one else, with golden eyes and chocolate waves tickling the base of his neck and around his ears. I love him. I am in love with him. Too bad he'll never know who I am.

That's just the way it has to be.

So here I am, sitting in his swivel chair in front of his desk, thinking and staring at his sleeping figure in his bed across from me. This is what I do every night; I sit and stare at his cherubic face while he's in slumber. I can't leave him at night, as most guardians do to their humans. I need to be here for him when they come; his nightmares.

He's had them for years. And when they come, when he starts to scream or cry, it is my job to awaken him. It is my job to help him and heal him. I take away a bit of his pain and add it to my own. I allow him to fall asleep again, peacefully, after he catches his breath and maybe gets a sip of water. Sometimes, he begins to sweat and I am able to wake him up before his nightmares get too bad. This is what I do every night, since angels do not need to sleep, I always watch for the signs.

The alarm clock on the little table next to his bed says it is 4:23 AM. Its Saturday now and there's a party tonight that he's going to. I hope he doesn't drink too much again.

Ian just moved.

I can see him wincing from where I'm sitting right now. I know he's having one of his nightmares. Technically, I can go into his dreams, but we aren't aloud to. Others say it violates the person too much, and it's not like we need to see their dreams. It doesn't help us protect them much. It's also a way to interact with our humans. That is the main reason why we guardian angels are not aloud to go into our human's dreams. They can see and talk to us in their minds. That's the only place. But it is not aloud. It is too risky, they say. They don't teach us how to do it, anyway.

"Not..."

Ian turned in his bed.

"No…"

He twisted again, his hands grabbing onto his white sheets tightly. Shoot, when was the last time he changed those?

I stood from the chair and used my wings to hover over his body. My white angel gown flowed loosely around my body. I reached down and touched his face. I could see the beads of sweat starting to form on his forehead. I smile slightly.

He's so handsome. It makes me wish I were real; human real. But then I wouldn't be able to help him the way I am now.

I felt a sharp pain jolt up my right arm, the one touching Ian's cheek. I winced. A human's mental pain becomes a guardian angel's physical pain. The pain jolted up my right arm again and this time reached the rest of my right side as well. I moaned as his eyes shot open and he gasped. He was staring straight into my eyes, as if he could see me. I wish he could see me.

I flapped my wings and flew a little a ways from him, more toward the ceiling. Ian sat up and wiped his forehead. I watched him pull himself off his bed and stumble into the hallway. He was wearing boxers and a white t-shirt. His breathing was short and heavy. I followed.

As suspected, he went into the small bathroom he shares with his father. He and his father live here alone, in this little grey house at the bottom of a hill. He went in and closed the door behind him. I went through the door and placed my feet back on the floor. I stood there as he threw water onto his face and brought some into his mouth to drink. He looked up into the mirror and stared at himself with his sad honey eyes. I wanted to reach out and hug him. But that would mean I would have to be human again, and then I wouldn't be able to help him with his pain as much. All I want is for him to be the happiest he can be. Besides, it's not like I can become human again anyway.

I stood behind him as he peered into the mirror. He looked like he was going to cry again. I slipped my hand over his shoulder and brought it back to my side again. I ignored the burning on my fingertips. Ian shuttered and coughed into his fist, then walked back to his room.

He laid himself on his back in his bed and fell into a dreamless sleep immediately, just as his tears began to fall from my eyes.

My eyes.


Hope you liked it! I'm wondering if I should change a few things, I must admit, I'm quite indecisive.

Anyway, please review and tell me if you'd like me to update or if you think I should change anything!

Once again, sorry if I offended anyone with the God did not create humanity bit or whatever.

And I know I didn't explain all that much about being an angel or all the kinds, more information would show up in upcoming chapters. Even so, if you have any questions, ask away!

Mileggie