Do You Beleive in Gaurdian Angles? I Do.

(If this isn't grammatically correct or if there is spelling errors, don't yell, okay? =) )


Ever since I was little, I've felt someone watching me. I wasn't frightened by this, I actually felt comforted by it. I should've known since the beginning that there was something more. Something that I hadn't been told, yet still exsisted within me.
When I look back, I look in awe. There is no reason on Earth or above that I should be alive today. When I was almost a year old, I was eating a "baby biscuit". My Aunt made me laugh, and I choked on it. I tured blue. Almost every person that turns blue from choking on something dies within the next 48 hours. My Aunt was able to get it out of my throat, and I happily got down from my high chair to watch Busy Town.

When I was three, I got into a new box of rat poison and ate the whole box. At that age, it should've been lethal. Should have killed me on the spot. But my Aunt called the ambulence, they pumped my stomach, and I left the hospital unharmed; besides a scar that has dissapeared over the years.

When I was about four, I was struck with a severe string of pneomonia. This string of it was killing adults all over the country, so there's no doubt that a four year old would die from it. After three weeks, I emerged from the hospital healthy, except for "catching" asthma.

Skipping several near death experiences, we'll continue with me being a twelve year old. I was at a friends house when we made a pitcher of lemonade at like, midnight. We put it in the fridge, and when we got it later, we drunk it. All. Once we were completely drunk, my friends uncle came out to get his lemonade. Turns out, he thought the lemonade was for him, and he had spiked it with almost a full bottle of Smirnoff. He went and laid back down. We went outside and laid down in the middle of the street, looking at all of the rainbows in the sky. We fell asleep. What's even more suprising than the fact that we didn't get run over, is the fact that the rapist tweakers that lived across the street didn't take us into their house.

When I was twelve, I became addicted to ritalin. It got to the point that if I didn't have it at least three times a day, I would go into fits of rage and start screaming at the walls, or my bed, or my TV; anything I could take my anger out on. Yet when I wanted to quit, I didn't have to think twice. I was able to just stop with out even thinking of relapsing.

I started to cut when I was about twelve and a half. My home life was heaven compared to a few people I knew, but it was shit compared to what I was used to. When I was little, I would bang my head agianst the wall when my mom would yell at me, or when my dad came home drunk and started calling me names and telling me that I was a worthless peice of shit. So that way, my head hurt too much to hear them. Figuring that cutting would be another, more affective form of this, I looked up the main arteries online, and ritually cut there. I even tried to kill myself once or twice. Considering where I cut, I should've bled to death. But I bled enough to the piont where I passed out, and when I woke up, everything was there agian. When I tried to quit this, though, I didn't have the same luck I had when I was addicted to ritalin. I've relapsed a few times, but Jeb has kept me strong through it.

And most recently, I've struggled with Anorexia and Bullemeia. These are also lethal deseaises, and things that Jeb have helped me with. But I know now that Jeb isn't the only one helping me.

About a year ago, my mom told me that I wasn't the first born, and I wasn't the first child that she had with my dad. As it turns out, I had a brother that was a still-born. He's the only other kid with the same two parents as me; the rest of my siblings are half brothers and sisters. After hearing this, I forgot about it. Until recently. I had a dream a few nights ago and he was in it. He was fifteen and we were messing around like we would if he was alive. He was so much like Jeb. Yes, not my mom or dad or me, but Jeb. The only difference was that he had the most beautiful green eyes and deep brown hair like mine. He said that he was my gaurdian angel, and he said that he was worried about me, but that Jeb was in my life for a reason. When I woke up, I thought that it was just a dream. But now, I can feel him more than I could before. If I turn my head quick enough, I can catch a glimmer of him. And most of all, I feel safer than before.

So do you beleive in gaurdian angels? I do.