My Angel

Some people don’t believe in magic, but I sure do.1

It all started on that early Sunday morning. I quietly got out of bed and turned off my alarm clock, as to not awaken my parents. I had a plan to live my own life. I wasn't’t going to let anyone stand in my way. I wasn't’t sure where I was going, but I was never coming back.2

My name is Amber Johansson. I was 14 years old, but my parents treated me as if I were 2. Ever since I was 3 years old, my dream had been to rehabilitate injured marine mammals. My parents completely hated my dream. They wanted me to be a lawyer, just like they were. It was a fine idea, except for 1 thing: I just hated the thought of it! I was raised near the coast of Michigan, but on that fateful day I concluded to leave that life behind. My plan was to find a job and earn enough money to study marine biology in college. Afterwards, I would risk my relationship with my parents to fulfill my dream.3

Two months after my devious escape, I began to realize that it would not be easy to survive on my own. Each town I visited refused to hire me because I was so young. After searching for weeks at a time, I had finally given up hope. So there I was, on a broad Michigan plain; in others words a barren wasteland. I was ready to surrender my pitiful life with a knife I had stolen from a hotel. But, to my surprise, I saw a small house in the distance. I thought it was a mirage at first, but as I walked closer I could see the knots in the dark wood which was fashioned into a door. I touched the sandpaper-like log walls. I smelled a fire burning and saw smoke rising from the chimney. I immediately understood that there was still hope for my new life, or for any simple life.4

I walked onto the brick red porch, praying silently that someone was home. I knocked on the door. As I saw someone walking past the snow white window frame, I let out a sigh of relief.5

“Hello, and how may I help you?” the old man recited, as he politely welcomed me into his house. I gazed upon the tidy house, admiring the absolute quaintness of his little cottage.6

“My name is Jonathon Magix, and you are?” continued the lively gentleman.7

“Amber Johansson, sir,” I responded. “I’m ashamed to tell you that I’I have run away from home and have nowhere to go. I was just hoping that maybe you could...”8

“That maybe I could help you. I guess someone your age would have a little trouble living alone. Why, yes, you can stay, as long as you don't mind sleeping on a couch. Please excuse me for not having a guest bedroom available. I wasn't expecting any visitors. Heck, I never get any visitors! You are welcome to stay as long as you wish."9

"Don't worry, sir. I'll only stay until I can figure out a way to support myself. You see, I ran away because I wanted to attend college and study marine biology," I explained.10

"Well, what a coincidence! I myself wanted to become a marine biologist, until, well..." the elderly man responded.11

“Until what, Mr. Magix?"12

“Until I discovered...” he paused. “Until I discovered that there was more to me than there is to many people. It's not that I am better than anyone else, no, that's not it at all. You see, I was a young teenager myself, when I started to feel awkward changes in my body. My organs were constantly moving around, and the doctors didn't’t know what was happening to me. Finally, my mom came to see me. She had been living in the United States, while I lived here with my dad after their divorce. She told me that I was half Magixioanal, and that I had some form of, well, for lack of a better term, magic powers. I gradually learned to control them, and ever since my dad died, God bless his soul, I have been living here, all alone. I’m glad that you stopped by. Please, call me Jon,” Mr. Magix continued. “Well, you can stay here for as long as you wish, and you can start attending school next semester. The closest high school is only a ride away, and the scenery here is lovely this time of year.”13

My new life with Jon started great. We’d ride to town in his little unreliable car every Sunday. He would buy me ice cream, play soccer with me, and help me study marine life. We’d take walks in the park, and we would have fun changing the colors of the flowers and pranking unsuspecting salesmen by filling their stores with snowshoe hares. Then, when we got hot, he would use his umbrella to spray water on us.14

In four short years, I had graduated and decided to study at a community college before I left for wider opportunities. Jon agreed to fund my entire first year. We spent the best years of our lives together.15

But all of that was short-lived.16

Before the first semester at the local college, Jon became sick. He acquired a fatal form of heart cancer. He was in the hospital for many months. I decided to put college on hold and stay with him through his sickness. He died in early August, and I was overcome with sadness. I could not believe what had happened.17

The kind man died without a will, so I received nothing. A shelter admitted me, but the people there were so cruel. I tried and tried, but I couldn't’t fit in with any of the other people. I became so frustrated and I resolved to leave.18

There I was, with barely any money, no place to go, and worst of all, no home. My parents were probably still looking for me, but I left town anyway.19

I had found a new life, but it was over. I walked and walked, living off of any scraps of food I could find. Finally I reached a fair-sized city. I booked a hotel room with the remainder of the money Jon had given me before his death. In the middle of the night, I heard some whispering near my window. I was too tired to check on it, so I just went back to sleep. But I should have gotten up, because shortly after I was abducted from my bed.20

“Let me go!” I repeatedly screamed. The kidnappers shoved a piece of cloth into my mouth, stuffed me into their car, and drove off into the night. I pretended to be sleeping, so the kidnappers continued to talk quietly amongst themselves. What they didn't’t know was that I was listening.21

“How much ransom should we demand, and where are her parents?” one inquired.22

"She's not a child! Her bag had some university's name on it!"23

"She's seventeen, stupid! It says so in some paper folded up in her wallet."24

“I’I have never really seen her before. Maybe we should just release her,” another said.25

“And risk exposing our identity?! Do you know how dangerous that would be?” said a third gang member.26

“Oh yea; sorry,” said the second one.27

They stopped talking, and drove into the night. Finally, they reached a desert. They left me in the car, while they got out. I hastily removed the cloth.28

“And just where are you going?” I asked.29

“Absolutely none of your business,” answered the gang in unison, as if they had rehearsed the response many times before.30

I knew what they were doing. They were writing a ransom note. After about ten minutes, they came back into the car.31

“Where are your parents?” the leader asked.32

“I don’t know,” I truthfully answered.33

“Well then, I guess we’ll just have to force their location out of you,” he said. Each of them held up a knife.34

“Just tell us where your parents are, and you will be spared,” said the second member.35

“I’m truly not sure,” I responded in utter fright.36

All of a sudden, the third member grabbed me and held the knife to my throat.37

But another person seemed to come on the scene. “Release her. Now!” said a figure. I could not conjure up an idea as to where he appeared from. Yet I vaguely remembered the man. Then it hit me.It was Jon!38

“I won’t repeat myself,” Jon shouted.39

“I refuse your offer,” the gang leader yelled in Jon’s face.40

But that was not an acceptable answer. Jon spun around and all of a sudden, the knife disintegrated. The men fled out of sheer terror as I ran to thank Jon and ask him where he had been. But he turned and slowly started to walk away. Then, he pulled out his umbrella and made it rain on him, just like he used to before he died. He stepped onto a cloud and floated away.41

He truly was an angel. He was my angel.42