I am running from him. His eyes have given me nightmares too many times before. I can't stand to look at them again.
My feet pound on the sidewalk, making loud noises that bounce off of the walls in the cool night. Without looking behind me, I can still see the glow of his eyes. The glow that makes people shiver. The glow that is usually hidden behind glasses. But not now.
A rock decides to cross paths with me. Next thing I know, I am sprawled on the ground staring at the blood dripping down my hands and terribly scarred face. The blood gets in my eyes, my mouth, everywhere. I can't stand the pain. My attempts to pass out fail more with every try. My mind can't escape the pain that so consumes me, taking over my whole being.
Before I know it, the man is upon me, glaring down. I don't look up, I know I'll puke if I see him. But there is no way to escape it if I really want the help that only he can give.
"Help me," I groan, looking into his awful eyes.
For a second, I think that nothing will happen to me this time, but I am wrong.
Suddenly my world is nothing but the yellow-gold glow of his awful eyes. His glaring makes my eyes and soul burn. The golden glow blinds me. I suddenly can't see him or anything else. My world doesn't-can't- go black. Despite all of my efforts to pass out, nothing works and the glow is nothing but me. The glow is part of me now. There's no stopping it, unless he decides to which is very unlikely. Then it stops. I can feel myself. But only for a second, for then I pass out.
I wake up in a hospital.
Everything is bright and cheery. A doctor walks into the room. I realize that I feel no pain whatsoever.
"I have no clue why you passed out," the doctor says before I can ask a question. "But there was a man here before."
"Did he tell you anything?" I ask.
"No," the doctor say somewhat sadly. "All he said was to keep you safe and to tell you that he healed you. Yeah right."
My mind spins with questions. "Are you sure?" I ask.
The doctor suddenly morphs into the man. As he speaks again, his voice sounds different and strange. "No," he says with a jerk of his head. "But I will tell you this." He tongue flicks out and is split at the end. "He did save you. He is your GUARDIAN ANGEL."
"What?" I ask. "I'm confused."
"And I am your . . . UN-GUARDIAN ANGEL!" He screams out so suddenly that I jerk around in the bed.
Then the man with golden eyes bursts into the room through the window, shattering glass. But he is too late.
The doctor slams his head down on mine. I can feel my skull crack under the pressure. Blood pours down my face, clouding my vision with red.
My guardian angel puts his hand in the doctor's chest and I can see him pull out something red. The other man collapses to the ground. Suddenly the golden-eyed man is on top of me. His lips meet my bloody cheek.
Is this what love feels like? I wonder.
Then I believe I am dead as the red consumes me.