Silence

Silence. She's crying again. She's lying on the bed, crying. Only her head and her hand are sticking out from under the covers, brushing wet strands of hair from her face. What day is it? She seems to have stopped counting, or at least I did a long time ago. Maybe a month, maybe two, maybe more... It doesn't matter. The important thing is that I can't listen to this anymore. I look at her and I don't understand why she's doing this to herself. She's not particularly resilient; one day, that thin thread connecting life and death, faith and hope, will snap, cut by a single stroke of a knife...

She stirs. She opens her eyes. She looks around frantically, but she sees nothing. She rubs her eyes with her hand. What time is it? It must be dark already... She doesn't even notice that she's been lying there all day, but what else can she do in this state? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Her name is Michalina. It's a name her parents always loved. They knew from the start that this would be hers, even before she was born. But why did she come? I most often ask myself this question when I can't sleep. Then I lie there and stare at the ceiling for hours. Sleep doesn't come, let alone any villages. Maybe only because of one big mistake. I don't think so.

Michalina is twenty-one years old. And since she was born, I've been by her side. We're stuck with each other until she leaves, though she doesn't know it. I don't know how long it will last, but I can't leave her anyway. I didn't ask for it, I didn't know I'd be given such a task. Then God said: You will take this soul under your care and you will remain with it, you will observe, but you will not interfere with its fragile life... I can't understand this, because the prayer clearly says: "Angel of God (...) morning, evening, day, night, be always there to help me (...)"... So why? How can we help people if our role ends with passive observation?

I don't remember how I became an angel. Once I saw a bright light, and then suddenly I stood before Him, and I learned that I had a mission to fulfill, that my time was not yet over, even though I had been deprived of the body I had once received there on earth. Was my Guardian Angel also in my life? I dare say so. If she received one, then probably everyone does. Everyone needs this invisible "care," at least according to Him. I disagree, but it's not up to me to pass judgment. I've come to terms with my role. Especially since it's almost nonexistent.

She's asleep again.

***

Today is her birthday. She sits at the kitchen table, waiting. I know no one will come, but she still has hope. Once, when I was human, I desperately wanted to know my future, but now I know that if it were possible, people would be doomed to die alive. And yes, one always believes that perhaps everything bad will turn out for the better. Michalina believes.

It's almost 8 p.m. There's not a sound in the entire house. The cake remains unopened in the refrigerator. Michalina is still waiting for her parents, who won't be coming because they're busy and something has come up again. Something more important than their own daughter. They'll stay at work; they forgot. Michalina bought the cake herself. She wanted to surprise them, even though she should be the one being surprised today. Give them a gift, wish them well. Nothing.

At ten, she goes to bed. She throws the cake in the trash.

***

This is the last time I watch her go to sleep. She won't wake up again... I'm her Guardian Angel, and I can't even save this one, single life. So what was my role? I can't even pick up the pill packets and throw them in the trash.

Tomorrow I'll find peace.