Prelude

Prelude for Forced Gaurdian

"Grandmother, why am I so different...?" a young Timothy Johnson asked, his young 6 year old eyes filled with sorrow and hurt. He had came home crying because the kids in school were already making fun of him, and it was only the first day of kindergarten.

His grandmother looked down at him, sorrowful by what her grandson's words. "My dear, its because you are special."

Timothy whimpered. "Why Grandmother? Is it because I see ghosts?"

His grandmother sighed. "No my child, and its not ghosts you see. You see a person's gaurdian angel looking over them, and because of that, your special."

Timothy pouted. "Then I don't want to be special!" he said, crossing his arms. "Everyone has an angel except me! Even you have one Grandmother! I've seen her! Why am I the only one to see them??"

His grandmother chuckled slightly. "You have a gift, thats how come only you can see them. And your angel hasn't shown herself because your angel is watching from afar. Shes watching you, but shes just not following you. She'll find you soon, that i'm sure." she coughed.

Timothy meeped. "Grandmother! Your still sick. You should get some rest, and I'll take care of you." he smiled.

His grandmother smiled softly, but it seemed sad. "Thank you my dear, that would make me a very happy old lady."

And with those words said, Timothy watched his grandmother sleep for the rest of the night, and the rest of the morning, but his grandmother never woke up.