March 23rd, 1997 -<i>I had a dream last night, a pretty girl came to me and kissed me on the mouth. I couldn't believe how lucky I was to have my first kiss at only seven years old, but then I woke up and found out I was still in my hospital room. My legs were still hurting really bad, but the doctor said I was lucky to be alive at all since the car should have killed me. He didn't say it to me exactly, but instead to my mom just outside. I still remember how it sounded when she cried at the news. What I didn't tell anyone was that there was someone else there when the car swerved towards me. She was an angel I think, and she saved my life...</i><br/><br/>July 18th, 2000 -<i>There she was again, some kind of guardian angel saving me once more. This time she pulled me from beneath the waves when I got caught in an undertow during a trip to the beach with my parents. I had almost forgotten what she looked like or even if she ever existed in anything but my dreams, but there she was again. What is her name? Will I see her again? Why doesn't she stay and talk to me after these accidents? Maybe I'll never know...</i><br/><br/>September 20th, 2005 -<i>My family is dead. I don't know why I was spared, but my angel appeared again and pushed the flames aside letting me escape the inferno that engulfed my home. I cried out to her to save my mom and dad, but she just looked sadly towards the ground and vanished into thin air. I remember screaming up at the stars for her to come back and do something, but she didn't listen to me. Once again I was allowed to live, but what makes me so special? Maybe if I take matters into my own hands I can finally get her to tell me why...</i><br/><br/>September 25th, 2005 -<i>I took a bottle of sleeping pills last night. I shouldn't be here to write this now, but somehow I was found by the paramedics and they pumped my stomach. Was it one of my friends that found me or was it that damned girl who chose for me to live yet again? I've been placed in a psych ward for monitoring and I was relieved they at least let me have my journal. Come to think of it, how did it survive the fire also? I'm certain I wasn't carrying it when I ran out of the house like a coward. God I just want to die and be with my family already, but the doctors here aren't going to let that happen any time soon...</i><br/><br/>September 30th, 2010 -<i>It's my five year anniversary in the Aubery Ann Richards Mental Health Facility since I tried to kill myself after my family died. It has been a long road to recovery, but Dr. Anderson says that I am well enough to be released tomorrow. I honestly don't know what I am going to do with my life though. I'm a twenty year old man that hasn't had a chance to do anything with his life. I suppose I should be grateful that the Facility at least helped me with my GED, but who's going to hire a nutjob like me? No...POSITIVE THOUGHTS...that's what Dr. Anderson is constantly preaching to me. There's an idea...</i><br/><br/>August 10th, 2015 -<i>I am proud to report that I have completed my seminary training and will be assisting Father Matthews with his sermons at Our Lady of Hope here in California. He was kind enough to take me in and give me a place to live after my stint (more like an extended stay) at the Facility. Dr. Anderson and I still speak on a weekly basis or more often if I need to talk through a rough patch. All in all life is not so bad considering what I have been through. I've even started researching angels in all their forms as a form of therapy to try and get a better grasp on the things I have seen, or perhaps I never saw them in the first place. Anderson says my mind made up the angel to cope, Father Matthews merely says I have to have faith that all is as God intends. I'm honestly not sure which one to believe...</i><br/><br/>January 5th, 2017 -<i>I find myself torn between faith and psychology, not sure which path is the proper one. I know that I have no control over life and death in the least, that is the province of God. However, why does a wreck such as myself get to keep on living through these horrific incidents when good men like Father Matthews die all around me? It's almost impossible to not feel responsible for his death considering what his last words were to me. 'I saw the angel Micheal, and she warned me about the crucifix.' I still think the damned thing should have fallen on me and ended my tortured existence, but instead Father Matthews had pushed me out of the way at the last second and his body was broken by the force of the blow. It wasn't until now that I realized I had misinterpreted his last words. I thought he had said that he saw the archangel Micheal whose name I share, but he had said 'she'. He was telling me that he had seen MY angel, and she had asked him to save me...</i><br/><br/>***<br/>Micheal looked up from the ratty leather-bound journal that he had been flipping through carefully to avoid ripping the pages from the aging glue. He was contemplating what it all meant as he often did in times of great sorrow. Was he just some delusional madman that had just escaped death on so many occasions by the happenstance of good luck? If that was the case, could his luck really be considered good if those he cared about died in his place at times? These questions and more nagged at him as he tugged at the priest's collar around his throat. So many times he wanted to tear it away and tell God to go fuck himself, but he tried so very hard to have faith. Surely his questions would be answered one day, and in the meantime he could only do his part to guide the flock towards everlasting salvation. He may have had crises of faith more often than one in his position should, but if it meant honoring the man who had been a father to him in both faith and adoption then he would make him proud, even if he couldn't do the same for Him.<br/><br/>He grabbed up his journal, tying it closed with the frayed cord that was nearly falling off. Along with that he scooped up his copy of the King James Bible and dropped a few dollars on the table to thank the young waitress who had served him his coffee. She was cute and had made what some might consider lewd advances towards a man of his station, but he didn't mind in the least. He was after all a man, and even though he had become a priest he had never taken a vow of celibacy. Regardless he still had not indulged in carnal pleasures even once in his twenty-seven years of life. It wasn't that the thought never crossed his mind, but more that he had never met the right person. Sure there had been young women in the church that had tried to ask him out on a date in the confession booths, but he had always respectfully declined.<br/><br/>Turning around he was about to start the light mile long hike back to Our Lady of Hope, but something caught his eye instead. There, sitting only three tables away, was the most stunning woman he had ever seen. He found himself standing there clutching his books to his side as he stared at her for a moment. His feet seemed to move of their own accord, carrying him closer to the beauty who sat so close yet so far away. He had no idea what he was thinking by approaching her like this, but whatever it was he was already committed to this course. Stopping beside her he held out his hand and swallowed hard before finally speaking. "Hi, my name's Micheal. Can I buy you something to eat?"