My Angel Mission

This is a Non-Erotic piece, there is no sex in it at all,so if that's what you're looking for you'd be better off looking elsewhere, Thanks!

It is just another day. I have just been into town with my daughter, in her buggy, to do some shopping. Not fun shopping, just ordinary, run of the mill food shopping. It's been sunny all day so far, hazy but hot and with a wonderfully whipping chill wind over the top of it to take the edge of the heat.

Elizabeth is happy. People keep stopping to talk to her, her bright eager blue eyes and bouncy blonde hair capturing their attention, actually, I think incessant two year old babbling probably contributes too. Grey haired old ladies and gentleman stoop down to chat, they always tell me how gorgeous she is, how bright her eyes are, how much her hair curls. Other mums smile indulgently at her and tell me to enjoy her whilst she's young, before turning to snap at their own children, running rampant in the aisles.

She has a lolly in her hand as we wheel our way on to the bus. I flash my pass and a smile at the driver, who nods his head, a slight hint of a smile in those bored and tired eyes. I roll the buggy along, my carrier bags scraping against the plastic sides of the luggage holders, it's one of those buses with sideways seats. The wheelchair user space is already taken up by a large pram and the front forward facing seats are all taken. I turn Beth around, her feet sticking out into the aisle, and slip my foot around the back to put on the break. I pull out the seat next to the buggy, placing myself between her and the plastic wall as I know my darling would cover it in sticky fingerprints if she were near it.

I slip my foot around the front wheel for extra security. I never quite trust the breaks of this light buggy, it is sturdy enough to carry my angel and some shopping, but the brakes seem temperamental, slipping off whenever they feel like it. Elizabeth giggles as the old gentleman sat upon the forward facing seat near us pulls a face at her. Her lolly lies back against her soft pink top, leaving a sticky red mark in its wake. Ahh well, something else for the washing machine!

The bus pulls away from the stop and jerks to a halt at the first set of lights, throwing me sideways with some force. I utter up a silent prayer for protection as the driver swings us round a corner, throwing me against the buggy this time.

Elizabeth is oblivious. Her and the old gentleman are having great fun, she offers him her lollipop and as he reaches for it, she snatches it away and laughs heartily. I look round and many faces are turned to her smiling. She spreads so much happiness and love. My heart fills with pride and joy. My little girl is special. Oh I know all mums say that, but I know my little one has a talent, a talent for making people smile.

She is supposed to be going through the terrible twos, but six months into them they don't seem so terrible. Ok so she does pull a paddy now and then, when she is tired or grumpy or just come back from her Nannas, where she is used to getting all she wants and more. It never lasts long though. Her temper burns out quickly, she hugs me and then carries on regardless. Her blushing pink cheeks tear stained, her eyes watery but a smile on those sweet lips, a sparkle back in her eye, a purpose in her steps.

I hear the brakes screeching and I know there is something wrong. I fight against the force pulling me away from my darling angel, and pulling on the buggy handle, I force my body over hers. She whimpers as if to cry, I manage to whisper:

"Hush my darling, mummy is here." before I feel the crunch. The bus stopping, the metal ripping and creaking, the screaming and wailing the hot lick of flames and the pain bursting through my back.

Death isn't how I expected it to be. I sit up and feel, well, normal. I open my eyes and look around, I blink and look again.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing, sheer black, no hazy spots, no stars, no zinging colours like you experience when you close your eyes to sleep. Nope just nothing.

I think I should be panicking. I remember what it is like to panic but couldn't really bring myself to feel it. Where the hell am I?

"Well I can tell you it's not there." A light and airy voice said.

"Where?" I replied.

"Hell. This isn't Hell."

"Thank the good Lord for that!" I exclaim, feeling the ghost of relief passing through my mind.

"This is Heaven."

"Really?" I reply, "I expected it to be a lot lighter. You know, angels, the Light of God that kind of thing."

"Aye, Yes, well you're not allowed to see that quite yet. We need you to go back."

"Pardon." I recognise confusion and think to myself, What is going on and who am I talking to?

"Oh I'd forget my halo if it wasn't screwed on, I do apologise, I am Peter, well St Peter, but you can call me Pete."

"So this really is Heaven? I AM dead."

"Oh yeah, you're dead alright . Very dead." He nods his head to emphasise the point.

"Elizabeth. What about Elizabeth?" My first real emotion hit me then at full force.

Fear.

Fear for my sweetheart, my angel, my whole life.

"She is fine. She came out of the thing without a scratch, you saved her, your body took all the impact and you saved her."

Relief flows through me as does the realisation I am dead, never able to touch my daughter again. I feel... well I don't feel anything really.

"Don't worry, that's just death." Peter said. "All earthly emotion is usually eliminated."

"Usually?" I repeat.

"Yes, but we need you to do us a favour, your daughter is special, you know that. She has a destiny, she will make many people's hearts sing." Pete's voice sighs.

"But she is soon to face a trial, a trial that she MUST overcome, that we need her to overcome. That is where you'll step in."

"Right."

"Your untimely death makes you closer to the real world than most dead people and closer than even us angels. God wants you to go back and be your daughters guardian angel. He needs you to watch over her, to protect her."

Fierce motherly love consumes me, surprising me in its intensity compared to the nothingness around me and in me.

"That love is one of the strongest emotions there is. It will last for quite some while yet." Peter clears his throat. "I'll have to send you back now. Time has past, Elizabeth is now six years of age. You'll know her when you see her. You cannot speak to her, nor any of your relatives. Adults will largely ignore you but children can see you, if they try hard enough, if YOU try hard enough. You will not be able to physically do anything. You will find a way to save her. God knows you will."

I wanted to ask a few questions but, before my mouth opened I found myself standing on the pavement of my old road, at the opposite end to where my house was, or is. I'm mot sure I've worked out what tense I am in yet.

It looks the same, if just a little more run down. The sweet little turn of the century terraces, with the tiny front gardens, several in full bloom. There is Mrs Tanners, the gnomes wink at me from their place amongst the floral cornucopia held within the crumbling white walls. Cars are parked both sides of the road, and I can see traffic zooming down the main road that runs across the end of the street. I notice the alleyway across from me but just a little further up. Dank and dark, I can just glimpse the end of what looks like an old bed frame and a ripped open bag of rubbish.

Children are playing across the road from me. The urchins from down the street. I remember them. Dirty and raggedy, as always, but a few years older. The little one, Janice I think her name is; is happily singing to her cheap plastic dolly as she rocks it in her arms. Peter and Robert, the twins, are shooting at each other with plastic guns, making the noises with their pouched out cheeks and saliva dripping lips. Frank is there, the older brother. A teenager now judging by the scowl on his face, made to watch his siblings he sits on the wall, a dog-eared fag hanging from his what? Thirteen year old bottom lip.

They live in the run down end house with their dad and his girlfriend. Friday night without fail you here them yelling at each other on the way home from another drunken night in the local pub. They scream and shout and hit and punch before disappearing into their home; the door banging behind them. I always felt sorry for the kids. They seemed nice enough, well all but Frank, he seemed bitter and twisted and so angry, I knew he was destined for a life of imprisonment.

Then I look up and I see her. My little girl. Skipping down the road in a pair of sparkly jeans and a short sleeved pink T-shirt. It must be a warm day, but I cannot feel the heat of the sun upon me. She is smiling, her light blue eyes shining, her curls bouncing, coins in her little purse jangling.

"Hi Janice." She calls as she skips past.

"Hey Beth!" Janice calls back. "Where you goin'?"

"To the shop." She stops in her tracks. "I have to buy a..." she takes a deep breath and looks up as children are wont to do when trying to remember something important, " ...a loaf of white bread, a tin of beans and, and, and, cheapo washing powder." She smiles proudly as she remembers her list.

"see you later!" She skips off, "Dad will be mad if I don't hurry!"

I watch her as she disappears towards the shop. I move to follow her but it seems I cannot move. I am stuck in this spot. This must be where the trouble occurs. Just up and across the road from those children. If Frank has anything to do with it I'll castrate him. My anger steps up and shakes it's fist at Frank as he stamps out his illicit cigarette.

Not that I can do anything. My arm won't lift, my body won't move, actually, I don't seem to have a body. I practise making myself known. I must need to contact someone, to help my Elizabeth. I can't do it myself, Pete, I mean St Peter, said so.

It seems so weird to be casually thinking about St Peter, the guardian of the Pearly Gates. I wonder if he has to wash them? What a task. That must be my left over human-ness taking over, surely those things would be self-wash?

I concentrate on Janice and her Dolly.

"Hello Janice!" I call, I am surprised when she looks up and waves.

"Who you waving at?" Frank Snaps,

"The pretty, shiny lady over there!" She points straight at me.

"Your minds bloody screwed." Frank says. "I can't see anyfin." I focus my attention on Frank, and I see something in his eyes, he falters for a second then shuts them.

Well, least I know I can do something.

Ahh, Here comes my little darling. She has grown up so much, yet she is the same. Smiling, chirpy sending out good vibes to one and all. Even Frank didn't scowl at her as she spoke to Janice before.

I see a man step out from the alleyway running down our street, he says something to my little one, and she smiles politely back.

As if I just tuned in to the right channel I hear what is being said,

"Hello sweetheart, I'm John. Your Daddy's friend. He's just been called into work, quick like, and he told me to come and meet you, take you home to mine till he gets back."

Fear stabs my heart, He is going to abduct my sweetheart, He looks normal. Casual Jeans over expensive Nike trainers, (I can see the swoosh) A plain red t-shirt and a casually disarming smile. It wasn't until I met his eye that I could see. I now can see the lust in those eyes, he wants my little baby. The Bastard!

What to do? What can I do? Again I try to move, to push myself towards him and knock his lights out, but I cannot. I shout, I shout loudly, but I do not shout. She cannot hear me. I glance over to Frank and his siblings. Janice is looking at me, her eyes worried.

"He's going to take Elizabeth! He's going to hurt her. Help me. Please help me!"

Janice shakes her head, "The shiny lady wants me to help her," She says to Frank, "but I am only four and that man is big."

"What are you on about," the twins ask in unison, "what lady?"

"The shiny lady there," She points at me again and the twins eyes follow her finger. "Oh yeah."

"Will you help me boys?" I plead. I can hear him, talking, persuading my innocent little daughter, I can see her wavering, she knows it is weird but why would this nice man lie?

"We're only seven," Peter says,

"and Dad says not to speak to strangers." Robert chips in, wiping his soiled hands on his once white T-shirt, I notice Frank's gaze flicking up at me.

"Please Frank. I know you can see me." I see surprise register as I know his name, " Please Frank. He's going to hurt her, he's going to take my little girl and hurt her, abuse her, maybe even kill her. I can't do anything but you can, Frank, please?"

I beg, I put all my motherly love into pleading for the life of my daughter.

"Hey Bethy! Who you talking to?" He shouts down to my little girl, as she begins to edge more towards the alley,

"Oh a friend of my Daddy's." She calls back, "Daddy's been called to work, I gotta go with him to his house till Daddy gets back."

"Beth!" Janice shouts up, "your Daddy's car's still outside the house. He can't have gone to work!" Frank stands up and begins to stride towards my daughter.

"Hey Mister, Leave her alone!" He shouts, nothing else, doesn't swear, doesn't curse, just walka towards him, his muscular frame tightened with anger. The pervert runs back into the alley.

My Elizabeth then drops her bag and runs the few small steps left towards Frank, wrapping her arms around his middle.

Frank gently ruffles her hair and smiles, surprisingly gently,

"Come on Bethy, lets get you back to your Daddy." He pries her hands from around him, scooping her up on one arm and calling to the others, "Robert, Get Beth's shopping. We're taking 'er back to 'er Daddy."

The motley crew walk past me, Robert and Peter arguing over who should carry the shopping, Janice telling Beth she would be ok, big Frank would look after her, and my angel, my sweetheart, my life's work is clinging to the biggest bully in town, gently stroking the back of his hair as she used to do when I would comfort her.

"Thank you." I direct towards the four of them and smiles are passed my way as they continue to wander past.

I expected to go then but I linger in that spot. I can hear Elizabeth crying gently into her Daddy's shoulder as he warmly thanks Frank and his siblings, surprise and overwhelming relief showing through his tone. I know my husband bares no love for "them stinking drunks and their dirty kids" but I knew from this day on he would respect Frank and his brothers and sister.

Frank brings the kids back and directs them into the house.

"I'll be in in a minute." He shouts as he walks across the road towards me.

"Someone took my Mum." He tells me. No hello, no build up, "She was only thirteen when she had me. Dad was seventeen and a prick even then. She sold 'er body fer food, fer clothes. He spent it all on women. When I was seven she wasn't there when I got home, Dad didn't care. He were drunk. He spat at me, but I listened to the messages on his crappy mobile phone and 'eard one from mum, screaming, yelling, calling for 'elp. I found 'er body dumped in the back street. Dad couldn't care. He didn't care. My mum was taken by a pervert and hurt and abused..." His voice caught with emotion. "...please tell me she is OK now, please."

I don't know what to say. I can't form words then I see her, Franks Mum, I know it is her, I just know, she smiles at me and I know what to say.

"Your Mum is happy now. She watches over you and the little ones. She is proud of how you take care of them, your half sister and brothers. She watches you always and she knows you are a good boy, she wants you to always be a good Boy, Francis. She loves you and will never stop loving you."

Franks eyes fill briefly with tears, he wipes them away and smiles. No more words are needed as he strides back towards his house and I, well I then see my Heaven.