I remember the cold, stinging my face and biting my fingers even inside my wool gloves. I remember the dark, interrupted only by the flash of headlights from a passing car. The sights, the feelings, not the sounds, never the sounds. For once, I was glad.
I had left my dog, Ronnie, at home, so I was alone. Something I would soon regret. I wished she had been there. She was like my guardian angel, protecting me from the limitations of the dark. I didn't hear the approaching car, I only looked up because the headlights didn't pass me by like all the others. There were four boys, two in the front and two in the back. I recognized them from around the school. All troublemakers.
The car stopped inches from my legs. I did my best to glare at them, and shouted; "Watch it!" I could see them laughing, I guess I must have sounded funny. I turned and walked away. Of course I didn't hear the slamming of the car doors, or the squelch of their feet in the murky slush. I only remember the feeling of being jerked around and pushed into the freezing snow bank. "Guardian angel, where are you?"
Scrambling to my feet, their leader shoved his face close to mine, and I could almost make out the movement of his lips in the dark. I caught some of what he said, including my name.
"…Katie…don't walk away…not done with you!" He spat on the ground at my feet, making me flinch. They all opened their mouths wide, showing their teeth and laughing, like a pack of hyenas, or wolves, encircling their prey. I prayed for my guardian angel to suddenly appear!
"Scared…lost…no one…save you!" I remember catching the last words of his sentence. I remember the feeling of fear that accompanied them. It settled deep in my stomach, and squeezed my throat. I could hardly breathe.
Someone pushed me from the side, and I found my face buried in the wet snow. I rolled over, raising my hands in front of my face as a last hope of protection. But the face looming down was not sneering, the hand not raised to strike but to pull me to my feet.
Feelings of relief flooded through me, bringing with it shock and cold. I remember my rescuer's face: dark hair, black eyes, lips twisting into a smile. I don't remember him trying to talk to me, to tell me it was okay, or ask what had happened. Maybe he didn't.
He led me over to a blue van, parked haphazardly on the side of the road. I remember the warmth coming back into my hands and feet, and could feel my chest rising and falling shakily. But I couldn't hear my ragged breathing, or the sobs escaping my composure. Still, the stranger didn't speak.
He came around to sit in the driver's seat, and removed his gloves. My breath caught in my throat. His fingers spoke the words and gave a reassurance no human voice could give. I watched as his hands told me all I needed to know. Everything would be alright, he would take me home. I remember pulling off my gloves, and letting my fingers explain. The movements were familiar, so I kept talking.
I told him my name, and where I had been. I remember how I slowly stopped trembling, and my fingers became more sure of themselves as we conversed. I kept my fingers talking as he drove me home. I told him how scared I had been, and how desperately I had prayed for a guardian angel to come and save me.I remember the reluctance in me as I stepped out of the car. Suddenly, the man waved to get my attention.
"Help comes whenever you need it, sometimes not in the most obvious ways. You're special, Katie. And God always takes care of everyone, even when they don't ask for it."
The next day, I walked carefully over to my bus. As usual, people stared, and made rude gestures. I tried hard to ignore the teasing, but felt the familiar frustration wellingup inside me. I remember how it all melted away, when I saw the blue van parked on the curb, and the white angel painted on the window.