Hi everyone, my name is Rosie-D (well that's not my real name, that's my fanfiction name) and some of you might recognise me from the story The Beach. Although I am still currently writing that story, I had a dream a few weeks about the idea of a Guardian Angel Anna, woke up, grabbed my notebook and jotted some of the ideas whilst they were still fresh in my mind. Now, I actually completely forgot about this story, until I opened the notebook and discovered my notes. After a long time of thinking it through, I decided I was going to give this story a go too. This will be very different to The Beach, although it will include the same characters, and of course, it will be a romance story that evolves as the characters evolve.

It is quite spiritual, and at times dark. However, it is written in first person, mostly from Anna's point of view, therefore the dark theme will include a bit of humour to ease the subject. I hope you enjoy it. Reviews welcome of course!

Xoxo

Rosie-D

My name is Anna, and I was eighteen when I was killed.

Ok, let me just clarify. I wasn't killed brutally; this isn't one of those stories about a serial killer that took my little life away, and then I spend the rest of the time telling you how he was caught, and justice was restored on the earth.
I'm not exciting enough to have something like that happen. Not that I want that to happen – of course not! Oh goodness no, let me start again. You'll have to excuse me. My head is still a little sore from the impact of death, and apparently the filter in my brain that stops me from saying inappropriate things disappeared when I transferred from this life to The After.

And now you're shaking your head, and possibly thinking 'ok, this story isn't for me'.

Let me start again – because I need to tell you this story. And it's probably better if I start at the very beginning.

My name is Anna. I had a surname, but at this very moment, I can't quite remember what it is. I know that I was eighteen when I died, but apparently during death, you forget a lot of the everyday things, such as surnames, addresses. They seem all too insignificant during the very last breaths.

I was killed by a drunk driver. A hit and run. But I wasn't killed on impact.

This point will become important later on.

It was probably as much my fault as his. I tend to blame myself for everything, and even though my Councillor Gerda keeps reassuring me that it was not my fault, I still have the blame swimming around my mind.

It was a Sunday afternoon when I died. And it was raining, and miserable, and the world looked really, really grey. I often joke with Gerda and say it was because I had been taken from the world, therefore the light disappeared along with my soul. And when I say this, Gerda gives me a small smile, and admits that there is some truth in what I say.

I remember walking round the corner of a street called…um…ok, so I can't remember the street name, but that's not important. But it was raining, and I had my thick coat pulled tightly around me. My hood was up, I remember that. And I wasn't looking where I was going.

And I walked quicker and quicker. But I can't remember where I was walking to. My head was down, and the wind was up. And I stepped off the sidewalk, and I walked quicker. And quicker. And then there was a screech. And I stopped walking. And then there was a pain, like a stabbing, and a throbbing, and then my hood was down. And then I could feel the rain, and it was splashing me, drowning me. And then I think there was blood, well, I'm told there was blood. And my heart was racing. The kind of racing you get when you're running a track race, and you glance back, two seconds away from the finish line and you see all the other runners behind you. Faces pained. Sweat pouring. And you know you've won. Or the kind of racing you get when you're on that really, really big roller-coaster that your Mom told you not to go on because it looks too scary, but you beg, and you beg, and eventually she gives in. And the man comes to strap you in. And then the cart moves, and it lurches forward, and you ascend up the track. And then you look back at your Mom waiting down below and you think 'oh shit, she was right', but there's nothing you can do about it, so your heart begins to race.

The racing was sort of like that, only sickly, because you know you're dying.

It's ever so strange, as you never get to ask someone, who is seconds away from death, what it actually feels like to die. What runs through your head, what your last words are, what your last thoughts are.

I suppose for a moment or so, I did what most people assume, and I thought about my parents. My Mom in particular, and the meatloaf she was preparing for dinner. And how she would be wondering where I was. I thought about my Dad telling my older brother Kristoff to go out in his car, and start looking for me, and how 'dead I would be' when he found me. Oh the irony huh?

But I also thought about the pain in my head. The splitting pain, that caused me to realise that I was dying. And I wanted to cry, and I wanted my Mom to hold me, and hug me, and tell me it's just a bad, bad, bad dream, and that when I wake up, everything will be alright. But something about the situation told me to stop. And my breath started to slow.

I don't remember how long I lay in the road, or the person who rang the Ambulance. I don't remember the car driving away. The car that hit me. And I don't remember when I actually agreed with death, and told him it was ok, and that I was ready to leave.

….But I do remember a scream.

A high pitch, wailing cry, that got louder and louder, and then all at once was on top of me.

And I remember an icy touch, like frost bite to my cheeks. But I think they were hands. No - I know they were hands. And they were so soft, and so cold, like snow on my burning cheeks.

And I remember opening my eyes for the last time.

White…no…blonde? Or platinum? And long, and soft, so soft.

Blue, ice-blue. Sparkling. Tears, lots of tears.

Pink, pink lips. Trembling. Wailing, crying. Oh my god, are you ok? Is she ok? Can you hear me? What is your name? Where is the ambulance – where the fuck is the ambulance?

I remember beauty. The most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. The most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. Crying, crying. Lots of tears. Her hands stroking my cheeks. Everything's ok, don't worry, I'll look after you. Can you hear me? More tears, and then a scream. A loud, piercing cry that stung my ears.

….And then got quieter.

….And quieter.

And her face began to blur, and the dark sky behind her turned white.

And got whiter.

And then, I knew. I knew I was dying.

She disappeared. The world disappeared. And everything was white. Really, really white. Blinding almost. And silent.

And with my last breath, I exhaled a 'goodbye'.

And that was my last thought. The blonde girl was my last thought. Weird, huh?

I woke up.

Let me repeat that: I woke up.

Which is really weird, because, well….I was dead. But I opened my eyes, painfully, yes, but I opened them all the same.

And it was so bright. A room made of white. And I lifted my hand to shield my eyes. And there was a tiny second of beautiful joy, where I thought I was still alive.

I thought maybe I had passed out, and right now, opening my eyes, I would find myself in a hospital bed. Probably with a few tubes and wires around me, helping me to breathe. And if I looked to my left, I could see my Mom, and my Dad, and my brother Kristoff sitting together in a family huddle, relief and happiness drenched across their faces as their daughter wakes up.

Maybe a nurse on the right hand side, taking my blood pressure? Although considering the severity of the accident, they probably had machines that recorded all that information for them. And if I listened hard enough, maybe I could hear the beeping of the machines. Was I in High Dependency? Wow – that'll be something to tell all my friends at college!

Oh, maybe there were cards on the windowsill?

'Get Well Soon Anna!' They'd say. Each one with a similar message. And then there would be a few bunches of flowers, because I love flowers.

So I wait.

I wait simply for my eyes to adjust to the light, and for the hospital room to come into focus.

And I wait for the sound of my Mom crying with happiness as I wake up.

"ANNA! Oh my goodness, my beautiful girl – you're alright!"

And for the sound of my Dad laughing in relief, telling me how I'm going to have some battle scars for a while. And the sound of my brother Kristoff ruffling my hair, telling me I'm an idiot for scaring him like that.

I wait.

And I wait.

….But there is no sound.

I cannot hear my family. I cannot hear a nurse. I cannot even hear the beeping of a machine. And my eyes don't adjust. No hospital room comes into focus. All I can see is white, white, white.

And then it dawns on me.

I am actually dead.

I remember crying for several minutes. Cursing, and writhing about, crying out 'why me? Why did I have to die?' Because I feel as though I have been cheated. This is so unfair, what did I do to deserve to die so young? I'm only eighteen.

Gerda tells me that the first reaction to learning that someone has died, is to deny the reality of the situation. It is a normal reaction to rationalize overwhelming emotions. It is a defense mechanism that buffers the immediate shock. We block out the words and hide from the facts. This is a temporary response that carries us through the first wave of pain.

I like Gerda, she helps me through the adjustments of coping with the idea that I am actually dead.

Oh – of course! You don't even know who she is! Ok, let me explain.

After realising that no matter how many times I rubbed my eyes, or pinched my arm, or wished, and prayed, and begged; I would not find myself back on earth.

Not yet anyway.

So I sat up, and desperately looked around.

"Where the hell am I?" I whispered through chokings of tears. This better not be heaven, I thought, because if it is, I am so disappointed.

The only way to explain it, or the only way to put it in simple terms is 'the room was white'.

Ok, that sounds terrible. But it's the best I can do. Cut me slack over here, I have just died ok?

But it is a room. A huge, vast room that seems to glow so brightly, that I can't even see the walls or the floor, let alone the ceiling. And there is no door to be seen at all. It's almost like a glowing white bubble that I have no idea how I got into.

And that wasn't even the worst part.

Oh god.

I looked down for a split second, to discover my worst nightmare. I was naked.

I remember screaming for several minutes, covering my breasts and intimate regions with my hands, and looking round desperately, as though I would automatically see my clothes on ground.

But no, of course not. When you start your day with death, things are obviously only going to get worse.

Tears began to stream, once again down my cheeks, and I remember wishing, really, really hard, that this was just the worst dream I'd ever had.

"It's not a dream Anna."

I shot round, eyes wide, heart thumping. And all so suddenly, a woman stands in front of me, a peaceful smile on her face.

So of course, I do what anyone would do in that situation. I screamed.

And I screamed for several minutes too. Sorry Gerda, but you took me by surprise! How was I supposed to know that when I died, I was going to be taken to The After?

I turned to look at the woman, paused, and then screamed again, my lungs eventually holding up a white flag, and I collapsed to the floor with exhaustion.

My head began to spin, and I had a disgusting feeling that I was about to be sick.

"Are you quite finished Anna?" The woman spoke again.

I shot up, and scrambled away from her desperately. Poor Gerda, she must have thought I was an absolute freak.

"Wh-who are you?" I whispered, far too scared to even cry anymore. Far too confused and frightened to even cover my still naked body.

"My name is Gerda," the woman stated. She stepped forward, and smiled. Her voice was heavenly and soft, and for a moment, just a moment, I thought she was floating. "I'm your Councillor here in The After."

And then I fainted. Not my finest move.

When I awoke several moments later, I was lying on the ground. My naked body was now covered with a short white dress, the material similar to that of silk, and it was loose, and soft. And for a moment, I thought it was a silk nighty.

I scrambled to a sitting position, and flicked my head from side to side. Nope, no change. I was still in the white room.

"Anna?"

I shot my head to the left, only to see the woman who had only a few moments ago made me faint, pacing slowly up and down the white floor, her hands resting gently behind her back.

She was dressed in a long white gown, the material similar to the short dress I was wearing, except hers was long and flowing, and her draping sleeves covered her hands, as though they were too long. She had short, grey hair that was twisted into an intricate bun, and although her face was gentle, and calm, there was no denying that the lines around her mouth and eyes were wrinkles of age.

"I – um – what is – I mean….what is going on?" My words ran away with me, still not able to comprehend the situation.

Gerda took a deep, although gentle sigh, and stopped her pacing. "You are in The After, dear Anna. This is a place certain souls go to when they die. Souls who have unfinished business. Souls that we feel have duties to attend to on earth."

My mouth dropped to the floor, and I had to hold my head to prevent myself from fainting yet again.

"My name is Gerda. I am your Councillor."

"My- my – what?" I stuttered, shaking my head from side to side.

"Your Councillor. Like a Tutor, if you will. I am here to watch over you, guide you, and give you your duty. You are dead, young Anna, unfortunately that is true. But you have unfinished business, Therefore I am here to guide you, and teach you how to go about your duties."

Gerda took a seat next to me slowly on the white floor and smiled gently. "Here, let me explain."

Gerda told me that I was taken from Earth far too young, and at the age of eighteen, I could have contributed so much more to the world.

She told me that I could have become a doctor, or found the cure to cancer. She told me I could have adopted hundreds of starving kids, or brought world peace. I could have become the world's first female president, or simply become a celebrity. I remember how I giggled at the last one. I always kinda' wanted to be famous.

According to Gerda, after I was hit by the car on that Sunday afternoon, I should have been killed on impact.

"Well, why wasn't I?" I asked, convinced I would never be able to understand what was going on.

Gerda reached for my hand. "There is far too much evil on the Earth. Children dying, wars destroying cities, illnesses killing communities." Gerda looked up and smiled sadly at me. "Young ladies being taken from the world before they have even had a chance to live, a chance to love, a chance to do good."

I sniffed and looked down.

Gerda continued slowly. "When you were hit by the car, dear Anna, there was no way anyone could have prevented it. Unfortunately, death is inevitable, and no matter how hard we try, we cannot always prevent it. However, we can do something small, to give you a second chance."

I cocked my head towards Gerda.

She began again. "At the same time you were hit by the car, a young woman was walking down the street. A very troubled soul, a very sad young woman. The same young woman who rushed to your side, and held you when you died."

A certain memory flickered in my mind. My last thought. The blonde girl who cried as I died on that miserable, Sunday afternoon. "The-the blonde girl!" I whisper, my eyes as wide as dinner plates.

Gerda nods slowly. "Yes. This woman is called Elsa, I have been watching her for some time now."

"Well what does this have to do with me?!" I exclaim, far too loudly for the quietness around us.

"The reason you have come here, dear Anna, to The After, is because I have a proposition for you…a 'job' if you will. You have not died, and become a lost soul. You have died, and have been brought to The After, to become an Angel. A Guardian Angel."

There was a silence that began to choke me, as I struggled to comprehend Gerda's words. They rang around my ears like the stinging charms of a church bell, and I looked up at the woman with confusion apparent on my face.

"You are to become Elsa's Guardian Angel."