My Guardian Angel [EverlyxNaterTaters]

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Everly, Jul 26, 2015.

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  1. Amalie McCarthy was a typical New Yorker. Or, at least, that's how she saw herself. She was up at the crack of dawn every morning getting ready for work, then she walked along the sidewalks with a tide of other people who did not dare the subway and didn't want to pay out for a cab every day. Breakfast came in the form of coffee, ordered from a shop on a corner that somehow remembered everybody's name. Some days she decided to be 'spontaneous' and buy a doughnut as well, but that had not happened for the past three months - ever since her boss made a passing mention that his newest assistant was getting too fat and was wrinkling his image.

    Such was life in the office of a fashion designer. Amalie had moved to New York City with wide-eyed hopes of becoming the next big designer to make it. She was convinced she would be the girl from a small town who came out of nowhere, dazzling the critics with her unique views and magnificent talent with color swatches. That didn't last long. This city was not one that coddled dreamers, and she soon found out that being a designer did not simply happen overnight. She was working as an assistant to a man who was considered A Very Big Deal, and he liked to remind them all of that every day. He made millions, they made pennies. She didn't even like his work, but it was a foot in the door.

    Her mother had been so supportive when Amalie made the move. She had graduated at the top of her class from both high school and college, and after twenty-two years of small cities and even smaller towns, she had longed for something else. Instead of trying to keep her daughter down, Amalie's mother had sent her off with many blessings, asking only for the occasional phone call in return. It was hard to keep up on that promise with how hard she had been working, but she did try. Perhaps she would call later..

    But not now.

    For now she had to focus, because she was terribly late. There had been some sort of accident the night before with a storm, leaving several buildings without power. Many people were on the sidewalks that should not have been, trying to hassle the workers and demand a time estimate for the problem being fixed. Traffic was more backed up than usual, causing crosswalks to be near overflowing every time they got a light. It was a migraine and a half. To top it all off, Amalie was - of course - wearing heels that she hadn't broken in yet. Already her toes were complaining about the constant stop-and-go. She glanced down at them, trying not to throw a fit when her cell phone began to ring and she had to fish it out of her bag.

    "Hello? ... Yes, I'm nearly there, I've got the paperwork right he-... Well, bye to you too," she muttered. Being hung up on was something she still wasn't used to. She shifted the large folder in her hands, her eyes on her phone as she put it away and trailed after the large group of people.

    [Edited because the picture wasn't showing up anymore, so I chose a new one!]
    #1 Everly, Jul 26, 2015
    Last edited by a moderator: Sep 14, 2015
  2. Oliver stepped out of a small store, a cup of coffee in his right hand. the young kid from nearby Patterson was no stranger to the scene in New York City. He had come here more than once,, in fact he would come back every other year. You could call The Big Apple his second home.

    He scoffed as he noticed the large crowd people as they passed by him and almost trampled him underfoot, Typical New Yorkers, famous for their "take no shit" attitude. Everyone was always going somewhere, doing something. He sighed and followed the mob at a distance, it had been only two months since he moved to NYC. He had just graduated high school and decided to move in with his cousin, who at the time lived The Bronx.

    Oliver struggled to find work, drifting from oddjob to oddjob. He eventually settled in as a waiter in one of the more upscale places in New York, it wasn't much, but the patrons did tip well. He was wearing his standerd uniform, a white shirt, black tie, black shoes and black slacks.

    He checked the time, realizing he was five minuets late, he picked up the pace and jogged lightly, trying to avoid fellow pedestrians
  3. Once her phone was secure once more, Amalie looked up to find herself waiting on a corner, yet again. Great. There was nothing that she loved more than standing around with a bunch of other people. It seemed that everybody was late. They were all grouching and complaining, either aloud or by glancing irritably at their shiny watches every few seconds. She frowned and looked up at the walk signal, praying silently that it would change. Her boss hanging up on her like that was nothing new, but he had seemed like he was in a particularly foul mood. If she was too much longer, she might find herself in need of a job.

    The signal finally changed and she relaxed, moving with the flow of foot traffic. She was about to step up on to the opposite curb with the rest when she felt something brush by her legs. What the..? Glancing down, Amalie saw a piece of paper slide past her and flutter backward. The sight was soon lost among the dozens of legs following her. She hesitated on the sidewalk and opened up the folder in her hands. One, two, three, four, six.. Oh no. The paper had been number five. She couldn't show up missing a piece!

    "Excuse me, sorry, excuse me.. pardon me.. yes, sorry.."

    Amalie wiggled her way through the people, giving a bare flicker of attention toward the changing lights. It would only be a moment. She could see the paper lying there in the street. No cars were moving yet that she could see. Giving no thought to the side street, she darted out into the crosswalk and scooped up the errant chart. Much better. She exhaled in relief and straightened up, just in time to hear the panicked blaring of a car horn approaching from the left side.
  4. Oliver had walked at a hurried pace, trying to reach the restaurant before he turned forty. He made room for a young woman, probably a few years older than him,as she chased after a rogue piece of paper. Oliver snickered at her bad luck, he had recognized that lady around town, which was strange, considering how large New York was.

    His smirk dropped when he noticed a car quickly descend upon the girl. It was going faster then it should have, and he only had a few moments to react.

    "Miss, watch out!" Oliver cried as he sprinted into the street and shoved her out of the path of the vehicle. As he turned to jump out of the way, he felt a dull thud, he fell to the ground as the front right tire rolled over and crushed his ribcage. He yelped in pain as the car screeched to a halt a few feet away. The driver getting out quickly and running over to Oliver, who was now bleeding perfously.
  5. Adrenaline can be a strange thing. For a moment, everything can become a blur moving too rapidly for eyes to follow. There was the sound of the horn that caught her attention, causing her to turn. Amalie saw a flash of red - the color of the car. Somehow in that brief moment she also saw the horrified expression on the driver's face. There was no time to concentrate on that, though. A dull pain suddenly engulfed her left side. She had been hit, but not by the vehicle. This was not as solid. Her heart beat again and everything slowed. She found herself falling to the ground, her papers scattering in lazy arcs to the pavement. There was a voice, and another. Somebody screamed. Before she hit the road, she had turned her head around and could see the face of a man. His expression was worry, soon squashed by one of pain before he vanished from her sight under the vehicle.

    Her arm gave out as her weight caused her elbow to buckle. She hit the road hard, her momentum from the shove of the stranger carrying her over into the other lane. Her head cracked on the pavement and she saw stars. Somewhere in the back of her mind she could hear her cell phone ringing. It was her boss, no doubt, furious that she still had not shown up with the report he so desperately needed. She knew that she should answer it, but her vision was swimming. Maybe she could just call him back later..

    When Amalie came around, she was laying on something considerably softer than a road. It was a bed. She opened her eyes and was forced to squint. The harsh florescent lights above and the beeping machines to her right gave away her location. Hospital. She sat up and looked around with a frown, then began taking physical inventory. No limbs missing. Minor headache, easily dealt with. Vision fine, hearing fine, all fingers and toes accounted for. Her right arm was wrapped in bandages and ached, likely from sliding across the road. It would heal. She could not find any major injuries at all, and there were no visitors or nurses in her room to confirm. She looked around again, then decided she might as well get up and find some answers on her own.

    "Excuse me," she murmured once she had reached the desk a few yards down from her door. A kind-looking nurse was there. "I was wondering if you could answer some questions for me. I don't remember coming here.. What happened? Is the young man alright? The driver?" she asked, several questions tumbling out at once as she grew more concerned about it all.

    "Oh, dear. I'm so sorry, honey. I thought somebody would have been waiting in your room.." the nurse sighed, clearly dismayed at the entire situation. "The young man who pushed you out of the way passed away before we could get him here. The driver is fine, just a broken arm. You were very lucky, honey. Somebody was certainly looking out for you today."

    "He.. died..?" Amalie managed, staring at the woman. Some man that she didn't even know had died to push her out of the way of a car? She had seen his face and knew for a fact that they were not friends. Never had she seen him before. He had been young, likely younger than she was. Just a kid. She frowned, feeling an overwhelming tide of guilt. This person that she didn't know had given his life for hers. And for what? She could never thank him now. Why had he thought that his life was worth less? Had he considered what he was doing? Did he realize he would die?

    "I'll send the doctor in to check you over to see if you can be discharged," the nurse was saying, but she wasn't listening. She just nodded and went back to her room in silence. He was dead. She didn't even know his name.

    About three hours later, Amalie was discharged from the hospital. Her arm had several shallow scrapes, as she had suspected. She was instructed to keep it clean and to take aspirin for the headaches. That was it. No lasting damage - chances were that her arm would not even scar. She would have nothing to mark her for what had happened. The driver had a broken arm. That would mend. The man that had pushed her had given everything. She thought about that as she walked home, her focus on the sidewalk. The doctor had informed her that if she hadn't been pushed, she probably would have gone over the hood of the car and shattered the windshield, which would have killed both her and the driver. That was what the police had said, apparently. So it was two lives for one.

    It still seemed unfair.
  6. Oliver stood on the other side, watching helplessly as the cops broke the news to his mother and the rest of his family. He could see and hear the wailing of his mother, it nearly broke his heart to see his mother in such a state. She clung to his father, a handsome, muscular man in his mid fifties. His two older brothers, Rob and Sal, were there, embracing their mother as well. Oliver's younger sister, Maria looked as pale as a ghost.

    Oliver frowned, he had given time to himself to grieve his own passing. But now, he had to watch over his family in this time of greifing.


    Several days go by, Oliver watched as many family and friends came over to send their condolences. The family seemed to being able to recover and move on. That was good, at least they weren't always so mopey.

    The day came that the funeral was held Oliver decided to invite the woman he saved, so that his family could meet the woman he died for.

    He flew at a safe distance , making sure not to be spotted by anyone, hey just because he was an angel / spirit, didn't mean he could walk up and say hello. Besides, he had to go, God assainged him as a guardian angel, due to his sacrifice. His new charge was there, the same women he saved before.
  7. "Amalie, I'm going to need that new presentation finished before you leave this afternoon. Make sure the notes are finished with it as well. Also, those charts you did were off. Fix those and have them on my desk by three. I'll need you to hold off on your lunch break too, we have some clients coming in at noon who will need your assistance."

    Work was back to normal. In the days that had passed since the accident, Amalie's boss seemed to have forgotten about the entire ordeal. She had gotten two days off from work to heal and get herself mentally prepared, then it was right back into the swing of things. There were always projects that needed doing. Thankfully, her coworkers had not asked too many questions. It had been on the news already and they knew most of what they were curious about. She had the bandage on her arm for about a week, which likely earned her some sympathy points and caused people to steer clear. Not that she minded. She didn't want to talk about it at all. Two people had died and it had been her fault. Why would she want to discuss that?

    It was ten o'clock on a Tuesday morning. Her bandage was gone, leaving only faint scrapes behind that would likely leave small scars. Amalie was sitting at her desk, working hard at the pile of paperwork she had been assigned. If she worked straight through the day with no breaks, she might be able to get it all done in time.. maybe. She took a deep breath and plunged into it, not looking up until noon. An hour long meeting with the new clients, then back to her desk. From one to six she didn't budge. Between papers and the computer screen, she ended up with a massive headache.

    "Here is the presentation and notes," she said at six, leaving them on the desk of her boss. She was talking to herself, of course. Her boss had walked out at four, as usual. She sighed and rubbed her face tiredly, then pulled on her jacket and picked up her bag. Time to walk home. Maybe she'd pick up pizza on the way home. She pondered that, locking up the office before heading off down the sidewalk.
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