Tom looked out the window. The bright sun had faded behind the clouds and the crisp autumn air grew heavy. He sank into his vintage arm chair. Red in color it was a gift from his late father. Slowly he brought a cigarette to his mouth, but left it there unlit. He watched as rain drops began to form on the window pain. Pulling the cigarette out of his mouth he fiddled with in between his fingers before flicking it into the fire place.
He stood up and placed his hand upon the mantle. It was smooth, no doubt because it was made of marble. Slowly his hand ran over the wood work of the base. Each design was unique. Only matched by its parallel opposite. Sighing he looked into the dancing flames. The soft light was the only thing illuminating the rest of the room.
The room itself was small. The fire place was located in the further most wall. It was all the tiny room needed for warmth. His father’s chair sat in between the fire place and the lone window letting in a weak gray light. The hand made oak table was placed in the middle with a few chairs around it. A quiet room to quiet the mind.
Atop the mantle stood a lone picture frame. The only thing decorating the room. Tom picked it up and cradled it in the palms of his hands. A woman sitting on a stone bench was what the picture portrayed. Her hair was a bright shade of blonde. Her eyes a soft grey against her baby-blue blouse.
Tom set the frame down gently as if not to hurt it in any way. In truth the woman in the picture was the exact opposite of Tom. He had rugged dark brown hair. Piercing blue eyes. Clad in black he had a much more distant look about him. He scratched a scruffy beard that was poorly shaved creating a small scrapping sound against the crackle of the fire.
Pulling out his pocket watch tom looked at the time. Slipping it back inside his pocket he opened the door into the other room. He passed by the kitchen and made his way towards the main hall. He grabbed his grey jacket and black hat. Just as he was about to open the front door there came a knock.
Tom waited a moment before opening the door only to see his old friend John. John was a tall man, around six foot. Large for his age he was the perfect hard worker. A patched of tangled red hair sat atop his head. The smell of alcohol already potent on his breath. His overalls were poorly patched and the leggings were drenched.
“Hey Tom, you want to grab something to drink?” John put his hand on tom’s shoulder.
“Not now John, it’s early yet. I’ll meet you at the pub tonight.”
“Come on man, loosen up. It’s the same thing ever, uh, week. Relax and have a drink.” John pushed a bottle in his face.
Tom gently pushed it down, “Why don’t you go lay down and I’ll come pick you up later.”
“Much obliged friend.” John took another sip of whiskey before entering the apartment. He staggered using the walls as bumpers. Tom had to lend him a hand to stop him from falling over. He brought his guest into the living room where he had a couch. “Good night Tom.”
“I’ll see you in a bit John.” Tom threw a blanket at him before motioning to leave. Why’d he have to start drinking? He was such a kind person. Tom shut the door behind him and locked the front door.
The air was cold outside. The wind spraying the rain in his face stinging him slightly. He flipped up his collar to provide some protection. As he made his way down the street he saw people here and there with umbrellas or rushing to get inside somewhere.
About three blocks down he stopped in front of an office building. The sign read Anderson’s Printing Inc. He pushed the door open and took off his hat whipping off the water. The girl at the main desk looked up, “Oh, Tom, I didn’t think to see you her on a Sunday?”
“Just forgot something the other day is all. Don’t mind me Sally.”
She nodded and turned away to answer the phone. Tom made his way to the left down a small corridor. He stopped in front of a door and started fidgeting for something in his pocket. He pulled out a small collection of keys and found the one to unlock the door. He jingled the keys as he opened the door. As he closed it behind him he could here Sally laughing. Probably one of her friends.
Flipping on the light Tom walked up to his desk. The room was painted a simple grey. A filing cabinet to his right in the corner. His desk was neat enough. A few scattered papers here and there, but over all up to standard.
He opened one of the drawers and fiddled through some blank files until he had dug to the bottom. He pulled out a silver rope chain and attached to it was a silver, but dulled, locket. He clipped it behind his neck. The locket dangled just to the middle of his chest. Stuffing it in his shirt he shut the drawer and left the room.
Outside again he hurried across the street with the light was red. Once there he continued to walk. The rain had gotten harder and he was getting hammered. He quickened his pace and started jogging down the sidewalk. A couple more blocks down he stopped in front of a small church made entirely of bricks. The large doors were made of oak.
Slowly tom made his way in. Dipping his hand in the water he crossed himself while making his way up the stairs. The inside was cool and drafty, but it kept out the rain. The stain glass windows showed various pictures of angles, demons, and death. The pews were made of a simple pine. He ran his hand along them as he made his way to the alter.
Once there he knelt down and began to pray, “God of my father, I ask but one thing of you. Watch over Elena and help her find piece. Give her the strength I was not able to provide. Amen.”
As Tom stood up he heard the door open behind him. Turning he saw a hooded figure enter the chapel. Not much could be seen of the man. Only that he was rather tall. He approached with a grace no man had ever seen. He stooped beside Tom and bowed his head in prayer.
As this happened Tom just stood there. For some reason he was petrified of the stranger. No reason, only a feeling. He felt heavy, weary, and almost sick. He licked his dry lips as he turned. “What are you?”
“Your guardian angle.”
“W, what?”
The hooded figure said nothing, but place a small box in his hands. Tom glanced down at it, but when he looked up again the man was gone. Looking around in a haze he was confused on what had just happened. Looking down at the box again he examined it more closely. The box itself was polished oak. Atop it there laid a red rose. Tom quickly stuffed it inside his jacket and made his way back home.
When home he threw his jacket and hat onto the floor. Quietly he made his way into his study only to see John hovering over the fire. “Back already? I thought you’d still be at the church.” John hadn’t moved an inch.
Tom placed the box gently on the table, “Something, came up. You feeling okay?”
John smiled, “No. I have a major headache.” He paused for a moment, “Do you know why I started drinking?” Tom looked away. He knew, but would rather not say. “When sis died, well, she was all I had. All we had. I needed anything to take away the pain, but…” he couldn’t continue.
“I know,” Tom put his hand on John’s shoulder, “We both miss her.” They both stood there starring at the picture on the mantle.
“What’s in the box?”
Tom turned and picked it up, “Not sure, some random guy gave it to me.” He picked it up and fiddled it in his hands.
“Well, open it.’
Tom looked back before turning the small dial. It clicked and sprang open. Inside there was a small book, like a journal. Lifting it out he flipped through the pages, but they were all blank. Turning it over there was small writing on the leather cover. It read Book of Sorrows.
“A gift from God.”
Tom and John turned to see a hooded figure standing by the window. “You’re the man from before.”
The man slowly began to remove his cloak. His face was bright and strong. Large, just as tall as John. He had blonde hair that fell to his shoulders and hypnotizing green eyes. He was dressed in a brown robe and out of his back sprang two feathered, white wings. “My name is Mathias, I am your guardian angle.”
