Guardian Angel.

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After lying in that field for a few more moments, I suffered from an asthma attack.

A severe asthma attack.

It was one of the most horrendous ones I've ever had. The shortness of breath I was experiencing earlier was only the calm before the storm.

Not only could I not breathe at that moment, but my head was pounding, almost as if I was feeling the stress of my brain trying to keep my lungs functioning. And the nausea hit worse than it ever had before. My body convulsed and shivered as I choked on my own saliva. A small pang in the bottom of my stomach threatened to cause me to vomit, and my mouth was on the brink of letting everything from inside me just spill out.

It definitely was not my most glamorous moment.

But, in the blur of it all, through the awful feeling of being completely helpless while lying in the middle of a field in well below freezing weather, through questioning my very own existence in the universe— I could only think of the voice I heard. The one that reassured that I "have everything to live for". Yeah, I definitely had my priorities in check. I mean, for all I knew, that voice could've only been a figment of my imagination! It may have just been my inner sense digging up a past memory from inside my mind, convincing me that death by suicide is not the answer.

But then I began to second guess my reasoning. The way that Voice had spoken so subtlety, the way it caressed my ears like silk, the way possessed an indescribable stillness and empowering charisma, was unlike anything I've ever heard before. It had to be something more... Something, maybe even...

But before I got to make a conclusion of what the Voice could've been, I blacked out.

"Mrs. Wise kicked you in a very sensitive part of your lower rib cage and upper abdomen," the nurse had said to me while also depicting an X-ray scan of my torso shortly after I woke up. "It damaged this area just below your thoracic cavity: the diaphragm. This caused it not function properly."

I guess that bitch's bite is bigger than her bark. "Is that bad?" I asked.

"Yes, very," they said curtly. "You see, the diaphragm's a muscle that enables air to be sucked into the lungs. But, when she damaged that area, and since you were hyperventilating from shock, your lungs couldn't take in enough oxygen, especially with your constricted trachea. The carbon dioxide build up in your system became too much for your body could handle, eventually you became unconscious and almost completely asphyxiated."

"As...phyxiated...?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, suffocated."

"Will I... Will I be alright now?"

"I think you should be fine. Your lungs will just be weak for a while and you may suffer from short, uneven breaths, but as long as you follow the bronchodilator treatment the doctor prescribes you to proactively manage your asthma, and stay checked-in for a few more days to recover, you'll be able to live your life how you normally did before."

I just loved her how she said "normally", as if my life was a neatly wrapped box of chocolates.

She began to take the X-ray scans off the wall. Then, as leaving the room, she said, "The doctor should be here shortly."

After being told more news about my health from a doctor, and staying in recovery for two more days, I was discharged from the hospital— only to be brought to an investigator who forced me to re-live the past events that happened in explicit detail. At first I wondered how they even found out exactly who injured me. It turned out that it was Vanitas who called the police and told them about what was happening in the Wise household. My case was not the first time either of the Wise couple had conducted some type of abusive activity on a child, it was far from it.

"I was just like you," Vanitas had mumbled wistfully while we were being held inside of some kind of waiting hall, waiting to be questioned. He had a regretful look on his face, though an almost angry stare in his eyes as he clenched his jaw. "Well...maybe my case was a little worse." He sighed. "When I was 10, my parents committed suicide. All they left was a note that said, 'We don't ever want you to believe this was your fault Vanitas.' Heh, and they didn't even spell the shit right."

"I'm... sorry," I said quietly as chill ran through my bones.

He went on, "At the time, I hated everything. Nothing could have changed what I felt about the world. Nothing. I mean, how could I not feel that way? My life as I knew it was ruined. So when Social Services told me I was going to have to go into foster care, I knew I had to do anything I could to make those foster parents hate me so I wouldn't have to stay with those bastards for more than a week."

"Like what?"

He shrugged. "You name it, anything you can think of. Anything to make them not to think twice about kicking me out of their home."

"Oh..." Thoughts ran through my head with the possibilities of what he could've done if he really meant 'Anything you can think of'. "So what happened when you got to... the Wise's house?"

Vanitas shifted slightly in his seat. "Well, they had to be about the tenth foster home I went to. I had been in the system for like eight months by then, and it was a year and a half after my parents died. The first week I was there, they tried to 'discipline' me or whatever. I ignored whatever they told me to do." He then explained specific encounters of when both Mr. and Mrs. Wise were somewhat passive in situations or very aggressive. "It was… I think, a month I was there when they actually used force."

Huh, funny. It took a week for me.

"They were always threatening to do stuff to me, but I never thought they'd actually do it. But then... Then one night I guess they snapped. Ansem Wise was who hurt me first, then his wife next. You know how they say that those 'tough guys' are really just scared boys inside? Well, that wasn't me...yet. I wasn't even afraid of them after they hurt me the first time. But after being in that abusive atmosphere for a while, it honestly got to me. All I did for a while was stay quiet and not give them a reason to... yeah, you know. So I want to... I want to say sorry for not helping you when-"

"No," I interrupted. "I understand. You don't have to apologize."

"But-"

"Really, it's fine," I replied. Then, in a soft whisper, I said, "I'm just glad... I'm glad the boundaries are broken."

"What?" Vanitas asked, looking over at me.

I slightly chuckled. "Nothing. I hope we-"

"Xion Roulette, we need you to answer some more questions. Please come with me," a man at the end of the hall dressed in a black suit said to me.

I looked at Vanitas, then looked at the man. "Al… alright." I stood up and waved bye to Vanitas, then walked towards the man, my footsteps echoing lightly against the walls. I looked back behind me to catch a last glimpse of Vanitas then smiled. "I... hope we'll meet again."

"Definitely." He smiled back, and I walked out of the room.

That was the first time in a long time that I had an honest smile— the first time in a long time that I had a reason to smile. It felt… nice.

The next place I was dragged to was to the person I always go to when I get assigned to a new "home": my caseworker.

"Is... Is this a cellphone?"

"Yes. Go ahead, take it."

"But why would you by me one?"

The caseworker leaned forward and rested her head on her two hands, laced by her fingers. "Well, Xion, I spoke with my boss about this case and we both felt it would be best if you had a way of contacting someone in case you're in another dangerous situation like the one you just experienced."

I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply when her words triggered my memory of the past event, though my lungs were still weak. I started to raise my hand up to my right eye, but then fought the temptation of touching the bandaged scar.

"Uh... Th... thank you, then. Thank you, Aqua," I whispered in a scratchy, humble voice. I then slid the compact device from its position on the desk then placed it on my lap.

"No problem." She then began to go over the information of the next family I will be staying with.

So now here I am; living in a different "home". But this time, I'm in Sunset Hill: Twilight Town's sister town. Not even 15 miles away from the last place I stayed in.

"I think my lips are bigger. Xion, do they look bigger to you?"

"..."

"I mean, they just seem more... luscious you know? Tell me you're not seeing this."

"..."

"Xion, are you listening? I mean look at them. Just look."

"Stop that!"

The girl sits down, a guilty look covers her face like a veil. "Was I... making you uncomfortable again?" she asks.

"Yes." Very much so.

"I'm... I'm really sorry. It's just... I just never really had a real sister before, you know?" And you still don't have one, sweetie. "...So when my father told me that you were going to be staying with us for a whole year-"

"-You were really happy."

"Yeah! But then-"

"-You got really scared because you had no idea what to say to me, and what I'd think of you."

"Mmhmm! So...because of that, I may get a little off track with what I say-"

"-and you may get too close, because you don't know what boundaries needn't to be crossed just yet until you get to know me more."

"Exactly!" Her face lights up with glee, but quickly turns into a confused glare. "Wait... how did you know I was gonna say all that stuff?"

Because you've already said "all that stuff" to me twice before.

"Oh, just a lucky guess." I smile to cover my dread.

"Oh, well, that makes sense." She rocks back and forth in her seat on the bottom section of the bunk bed, smiling in a content way. Suddenly, she stands up quickly, stretches her arms, and yawns. "I am so sleepy," she says though her yawn. "Why does school always have to start so early? Ah, anyways, I'm gonna get some breakfast. You want some?"

"No. I'm fine, thank you."

"Suit yourself." She shrugs and walks out of her lavender bedroom filled with other light hues and dark undertones.

Her name is Naminé.

She's a peculiar girl. Age fifteen, going on twenty-one. Her light complexion is accented with her large, crystal blue eyes, perfectly-aligned, white teeth, and long, blonde hair. Now, I'm not one for prejudices and stereotypes, but with her vain personality and short-term memory loss, she doesn't exactly give me a lot of reason to not think that her IQ level is lower-than-average because of her hair color, if you know what I mean.

"Xion! Mom's about to leave for work and she said she can take us to school," Naminé yelled from the kitchen. "We need to be ready to go, like, now, though."

"Alright, here I come," I reply, pulling my jacket on, followed by my backpack.

On the way to school I just barely try to entertain Naminé and her thoughts that lead to nowhere in particular. I then begin to think about how this first day is going to go. Anything could happen, really. I have to admit I'm sort of nervous. Always have been on first days. But I never know why. Maybe it's because I'm insecure about what people think...

"Hey, Xion, you have a phone, right? You should put my number in. You know, so we can keep in touch," Naminé suggests.

"Oh, um, okay..." I really don't want her to have my number, but I guess I have no choice. She hands me her phone, and I hand her mine, and we exchange numbers.

"Thanks! Oh, and look, we're here." She points through the window to a fairly large building.

I unlock and open my door, then step outside of the car. Naminé also gets out on her side, then rushes over to me and links her arm around mine. I make my arm go limp, hoping that she'd get the hint that I don't want her to touch me, but she just tugs my arm tighter. Maybe I expect too much from her.

"Bye, Mom! See you a bit later." Naminé waves goodbye to her mother while slowly walking off.

"Okay," her mother replies out of her open car door window, "see you two later. Oh, and, Naminé? Take good care of Xion."

"Don't worry, we're gonna have lots of fun today. Isn't that right, Xion?"

I look over at Naminé, who has an annoying smile on her face, urging me to reply.

"Um...yeah..." I say warily. "Uh, lots and lots of... fun."

. R . X . R . X . R . X .

"Goodnight, Xion. See you in the morning!"

I don't say anything back to Naminé as I walk to the second floor to this house and into my room.

This day was a disaster.

Note to future self: never, ever hang around girls like Naminé and her friends. Especially not after school ends.

Their self-centered-ness, arrogance— if I only had a nickel for each and every time they looked in a mirror, adjusted their makeup, or said "like" I'd be... well, I wouldn't be rich, but... yeah, you get the idea.

Those girls are egotistical whores. Pardon my language.

And the way they talked about other people... It was terrible. I couldn't help but think about if it were me who they were talking about. And how many times it has been me, when I was at different schools. Back then, just hearing a laugh echo behind me made me cringe on the inside. That feeling of not knowing what I must've done to cause that laughter, like I was the one who did something wrong, made me feel... well, helpless.

Ugh, I need to take a shower. I need to cleanse the filthy aura that surrounds me just from being around those girls. The upside to this house is that the guest room has its own bathroom.

. R . X . R . X . R . X .

I don't feel any better.

Just by being with those girls today, and hearing their awful, venomous words makes me feel terrible inside.

I turn off the light in the bathroom, and also in my bedroom, so that all that I can see is what all I should see: nothing. I close the curtain to my window so that no light, whatsoever, can get in.

I lie down on my bed, and take in a deep breath.

I can't shake this feeling that I have. The guilt of how all I could do was stay quiet, like I always have, makes me feel worse.

"See, that's the problem."

I immediately sit up as my mouth drops open as a clamor of shock rumbles through me...

I'm not alone in here.

But I could've sworn I locked the door to my room.

"N-Naminé...?" I say, sitting up.

"Xion, you have to start speaking up!"

That's not Naminé's voice. In fact, if I'm not mistaken—

It's th-... that Voice! The one I heard in the field. But... how?

"Y...y-you! Y-you're-"

Before I know it, a hand covers by mouth and muffles my impending scream, and I'm pinned to my bed almost in an instant. A pair of bright blue eyes that gleam in the dark hover over me. What the hell is this?!

"Shhh, don't scream. You'll wake everyone up." The pressure on my mouth is lifted, and I can sit up again.

"What are you— Who are you?!"

"SHHH! Didn't I just say not to scream? Lower your voice, Xion."

"How-"

"Shhh!"

I take in a shaky breath, then calm my tone. "How do you know my name? And who are you?!"

My room light flickers on and I shield my eyes from it.

"Okay, okay. I know you have plenty of questions..."

Now that I can see the person, it's a boy. Matter of fact...he's the same boy that was... In my dream. Blond hair and all. But this guy's older. And not beaten senseless.

I am so confused.

"...So I'll try my best to answer all of them."

I'm almost without words, but then gulp and find courage to speak. "I... I only have one question." Well, at least for now.

"Alright. Ask away." He smiles.

"Just who— or what— are you?"

"Well..."

. R . X . R . X . R . X .

"You're my... my guardian angel?"

The boy nods.

"And your name is...?"

"Roxas."

"So... does this mean you've come down from heaven? And you were assigned by... 'God' to come protect me or something?"

The blond boy laughs. "You make it seem like The Dead are like some kind of elves in Santa's workshop assigned to give kids presents or something!" he jokes. "Well, Xion, not all of us Angels come down straight from heaven like you think we do. I... I don't know exactly how or why I found you, it's just..." Roxas thinks for a second, trying to find the right explanation. "Hm. You know what? I've an idea. Come on!" He grabs my hand and pulls open the long, black curtain of my room to reveal the glass, circular window. Once he opens the window, he says, "Okay, this might feel a little different at first, but don't be scared. Understand?"

"U-uh..."

"Good." He nods in confirmation, and grabs my wrist, even though I didn't say a word.

And with that, he jumps.

I want to scream. Oh how badly I do. But I can't. My breath has completely gotten knocked out of me. Gone. Stolen. I gasp slightly and hold Roxas' hand tighter; he just keeps steady and strong.

Almost as soon as we hit the ground, a small force holds us and breaks our potentially fatal fall (well, maybe fatal for me, but not him).

It's daylight out now.

What just happened?

From what I can see, everything is... different. The once old-looking neighborhood with decrepit and vine-entwined houses, now looks re-built. Almost as if it's... new. And it feels like a completely different territory than the one I had become accustomed to.

"Welcome to Sunset Hill. November 6th, 1958," Roxas introduces me to the new environment.

I look at him with slight confusion. "So... is this some 'ghost of Christmas past' thing or something?" I ask him, not sure of what to expect.

Roxas only gives me an entertained smile. "No, of course not. That's some fictional tale in a children's storybook. This is all real." He grabs my wrist again, pulling it to him. The Angel begins guide me along the streets.

What is going on?