Guardian

I suppose that this may be surprising, but my greatest romance took place in my grandmother's home. It seems odd that such a thing would occur, but it's true.

My grandmother lived in an old house along the riverside. She lived alone, for my grandfather had divorced her many years ago. I had been going there for years, never knowing that I was being watched.

My gram was always a kind woman, though a bit eccentric at times. She was very into the paranormal - not something you would expect a woman of her age to be interested in. She was also what she called a 'medium' - one who can channel and contact spirits. However, I wouldn't have known that if she hadn't told me.

I was sixteen when she asked me a question. One simple, harmless question that would unknowingly change my life.

"Do you believe in ghosts, Ariana?" she had asked with a warm smile upon her aged face.

"Don't you think I'm a bit old for ghost stories, Gram?" I replied.

"Oh, never. But. . . do you believe?" she insisted.

"Honestly, no. I don't." I was always a skeptic, but now that she began to pester me, I told her the truth.

"That's too bad."

"Why?"

"There's a spirit here - in my house. I thought that you would like to hear a bit about him."

"I'm sorry, but no."

"No? He's quite interesting."

"I don't believe." I said dismissively, and that ended it.

I was staying at her house at the time because a pipe had burst in my room. I had nowhere to sleep, so my grandmother had taken me in with open arms. This was the first time I had stayed at her house, and I didn't need to be spooked right now. I checked the time - it was eleven-forty. I shuffled off to bed.

That night, I couldn't sleep. I felt like someone was watching me, but I told myself that it was only in my mind - I wouldn't let my grandma's stories scare me.

That's when I heard it.

A voice in my ear - a boy's voice - had whispered to me, "Ariana, my dear Ariana, don't you believe in me?"

I bit my lip. It had to be all in my mind. To satisfy my own delusions, I replied, "No."

A cold sensation swept my cheek like a loving caress, yet I felt sorrowful. The voice asked, "Why not?"

"You don't exist." I whispered back, surprised at how my own hallucination felt so real.

I was responded by a light chuckle and the words, "But I do exist. I've always been watching you, Ariana. Silently, but I've always been there."

"Impossible."

"But it's true."

"Why did you wait until now?"

"You said that you didn't believe in me. I wanted to convince you otherwise. Also. . . you're older now. Almost as old as I was when I, er. . . passed on."

"You're dead?"

"Yes. I used to live here. Do you know of the river close-by?"

I merely nodded.

"I drowned in it when I was seventeen. That was many, many years ago. In eighteen-seventeen, I believe."

"I'm. . . sorry." I said, genuinely feeling terrible for him, the whatever-he-was. Delusion or ghost, I felt empathy for this boy.

"It's fine. I couldn't accept it at first and lost the light, but I've come to terms."

"The light?"

"I was in denial, Ariana. I gave up my chance at a decent afterlife in my confusion."

"Is there any way I might help you?" I asked him, realizing that I felt overwhelming compassion for him.

"I don't think so. This is something I have to do alone."

"I wish I could help you." Within a blink of an eye, I found that I could now see him. He looked sort of boyish since he wasn't muscular, but he was very handsome. His hair was to his chin, and his face shape was angular. He was transparent, so I could see the wall behind him clearly. Despite that, I couldn't look at anything but his eyes, which met mine. He was laying with me, his hand still on my cheek.

"Thank you," he said. Then he seemed to be confused. "Can. . . can you see me?"

"Yes."

At that, he seemed to be astonished that he had actually materialized.

"You seem shocked," I told the mirage.

"Well, yes. I've never materialized before," he said sheepishly.

"How can I be sure that you're real? Or that this all isn't a dream?" I demanded.

"You really can't. You have to trust me that I'm real."

I did. I found myself trusting every word he said. I seemed to know him, though I've never actually spoken to him. There was a long pause, and that pause in our conversation seemed to last forever. The world melted around us, it seemed. It was like we were the only two in existence, like we communicated in feelings instead of words. How could I feel this way about a stranger?

But he wasn't a stranger. I had known him all of my life like an old friend, though I was just getting to know him. I bit my lip and my eyes strayed from the ethereal figure for just a moment. He probably didn't even exist. This was all just a fantasy that my grandmother had induced with her stories. I hadn't even listened to this story, either! This was just something my mind had cooked up. When I looked back up into his eyes, I said to him, "Prove it."

"I wouldn't know how," he said.

"Think of a way - any way."

He seemed to contemplate his options for a few moments. Then, he pressed his lips to my cheek gingerly. I realized that though his kiss was wintry, I loved it. I found myself believing that he was there, because no hallucination or dream could ever concoct such a feeling. He was really, truly there - so close that I could feel his breath, which was like a cool breeze. I'm pretty sure that my heart even skipped a few beats.

When he pulled away, he seemed to take my heart with him. I felt like I needed him more than ever before. Now that I knew he was there, I wanted him more than I could possibly imagine. Breathlessly, I said, "I believe you."

"I was hoping that you would," he responded, smiling.

I couldn't take it anymore - my feelings were getting the best of me. He had protected me all of these years, he had kept me safe. It was him that had watched over me, that had comforted me when I was upset. That was more than I could ever ask for in anyone. I was no longer a skeptic, but a firm believer. I asked then, "What's your name?"

"Maxwell."

"I love you, Maxwell."

He seemed even more astonished than before. "I-I love you, too, Ariana."

Then he kissed me.

The feeling was cold - like ice - but I loved it. I was so desperate for him now that my heart throbbed in my chest, full of yearning. I felt Maxwell's frigid, transparent hand move from my face to my hair, and I did the same with him. I was afraid that my hand might go through, but it didn't.

When he had finished kissing me, he smiled happily and said, "Sleep, Ariana. You must be tired."

"No." I was tired, but I wanted to stay up with him.

"No?" Max inquired, surprised yet again.

"No," I confirmed with a yawn, "I'm not."

He wrapped his cold arms around me, and I soon fell asleep in the arms of both my love and my guardian angel.

When I woke up that morning, I felt alone. Elated, but still empty - like something was missing. Had it all been a dream? Had that wonderful, magical night been just a fantasy? I wasn't sure, so I had called out, "Maxwell?"

No answer.

"Max, are you here??" I asked again, becoming desperate.

Again, silence.

I rushed out of my room, where I had met my grandmother. She had a small smile on her face, both satisfied and apologetic. Her cropped gray hair was disheveled from sleep, but she seemed wide awake. "You've met the ghost, haven't you?"

"I have," I said.

"Do you believe now?"

"I do. Gram, please, where is he? Where's Max?"

"Gone."

"G-gone?" I chocked. I was full of despair - he had left. But. . . where had he gone to?

"He left something for you," she said, handing me a piece of paper.

It was a note. It read:


My Dear Ariana,

You have gotten your wish - you've helped me to move on. I was wrong, for I needed another to free me from eternal wandering. All I needed was to love and be loved, and because of you, I have found the light. I wish to see you someday when you cross over as well. Words cannot express my love for you and my longing to feel you in my arms again. I love you with all of my heart, with all of my mind, and with all of my soul. My only request is that you never forget me, even when you pass on yourself, Ariana. As I have watched and protected you as a mere ghost, I will also do now. Remember that I am always with you, even as you are reading this. My love for you will never end, Ariana - it lasts for eternity.

I love you.
Maxwell.


As I read the letter, I couldn't stop myself from crying. Under my breath, hoping he would hear me, I said, "I love you, too, Maxwell. For eternity."

I burst into tears, and my grandmother comforted me. He would always be with me - a guardian angel, just as he always was. And as he requested, I would never forget him.

It is true that it was my greatest romance, but it was also my shortest romance, as well as my only romance. Sometimes when I sleep at night, I swear that I can hear Max's sweet voice speaking to me. I can feel his comforting, icy touch in my slumber. I still have his last note, and I read it every day. He is always in my dreams, and now I do not fear death, but look forward to it.

That's when I will see my love again.