The seconds ticked by as Mia watched her classmates, one by one, walking across the stage to get their diplomas. Why did she have to have the last name Yates? Because of that, she was going to be one of the last to get her diploma, and she just wanted to have it in her hand already.    
    It wasn't that she had had a bad experience in high school - on the contrary, it had been quite good. She had gotten straight A's, though the scores weren't high enough to attract too much unwanted attention. She had a small group of friends that she would go so far as to die for, and a loving family that supported her. She may not have been one of the most popular kids in school, but she didn't need that. What she had was more than enough, and she wouldn't change it for the world.    
    Mia breathed a breath of relief as her row was finally signaled to stand and make its way to the line-up. This was it. Just a few more moments and she would be officially done with school. Then she would have a summer to do whatever she wanted before starting at college.    
    That was when it happened. The first clue that something was wrong was that a tremor shook the building, enough of one that it caused Mia to have to catch her balance on the chair in front of her. She looked up in surprise, and saw everything as if it was in slow motion. Flames engulfed the stage, quickly consuming everyone on it - Mia's best friend included. She gave a scream that she couldn't even hear as she vaulted over the seats in front of her, her only thought that she had to get to the rest of her friends and they had to get out. She managed five steps, screaming out "Maria!" as she came into view, before the ceiling collapsed just in front of her, abruptly halting her progress.
    Mia spun around. All around her people were dying - both from the flames and from the building collapsing. She knew that she had to get out of there, but she couldn't just leave everyone, not her friends, her family.... She ran in the only direction that she could, towards where the families of the graduates sat. She dodged around bodies and flames, falling rubble somehow always missing her. Maybe she was lucky, but she could never consider herself so when everyone that she knew was dying around her.    
    "Mom!" Mia screamed in horror, skidding to a halt as her mother's body came into view, a metal rafter through her chest. "No... no! Dad!" She began looking around frantically for her father. "Dad, where are-?"    
    "Mia..." the hoarse voice of her dad called through the uproar.    
    "Dad!" She began to rush towards him, stopping a few feet away when she realized that his legs were buried beneath a large piece of the ceiling.
    "Don't worry about me.... Get out of here."    
    "No way! Not without you!"
    "You're a truly good person, Mia, and I want you to remember that. But right now I need you to be selfish, if only for my sake, and get yourself out." His eyes were pleading with her, and she just looked at him, not knowing what to do and expecting to die at any minute.    
    "I am not leaving you here," she finally said firmly. She took a step forward, but before she even got her foot down, another rafter fell from the ceiling, piercing his neck. She yelled for him as she watched the blood squirt up around the metal, the life leaving his eyes.

    Mia woke up with a gasp, shooting straight up and resting her palms on the mattress as she tried to regain her breath. It was just a dream, she told herself, just a dream. Except it wasn't. It was a memory - a memory that had been haunting her for four years now. Only a hand full of people had survived that night. A fluke pipeline explosion, though not like one they had ever seen before. Honestly, Mia didn't care what it was. Her friends and family had died that night, and knowing exactly what had caused it wouldn't change that.
    She sighed as she pushed herself out of bed, pushing her long, auburn hair back from her face. Needless to say, her life had turned out a bit differently than she had figured that it would walking into her graduation ceremony four years ago. Instead of being enrolled in college, she had been enrolled in therapy. And a great lot of good that had done her. She had forced herself to keep going to the sessions, figuring that they had to start helping eventually, but when she got into a car wreck on her way home one day a couple months in, she had decided to call it quits.
    The wreck hadn't been bad, for her at least. The other driver, coming home drunk from a party, had been killed on impact. When looking at the damage, the police had told her that it was a miracle that she hadn't been injured or worse, that she must be really lucky. Mia was really growing to hate that word. People had said that she was lucky for being one of the only survivors the night of her graduation when nearly everyone else had died, and then the police told her that she was lucky because she survived while the other driver died. She didn't consider those things lucky - it was more like disaster was following her.
    She had eventually gotten a job at a clothing store in the mall. It was simple, monotonous work, and was exactly what she needed. After working there for a month, there was a shooting. Two of her coworkers died, and one other was injured. Mia, once again was perfectly fine, though.
    Two more car wrecks, a burglary, a subway holdup, and a psychotic neighbor later, Mia was beginning to wonder if maybe lucky was the right word for her. Maybe lucky just had a different meaning than what she had originally been led to believe. Maybe she was lucky in the way that life threatening situations had a tendency to arise around her, and yet she always got out unscathed. (Well, mostly unscathed, anyway, once she did get a small cut from glass blowing out in a storm.) But lucky wasn't a word that was exclusively to good things. Sure, she was surviving, but she wanted to do more than just survive. She wanted to live her life with her friends and family, not having to be looking over her shoulder the entire time for the next tragedy that was about to occur. So yes, she was lucky, but she wished that she wasn't.
    Now she had been promoted to assistant manager at the store she still worked at, and she lived in a small apartment just a few blocks away. Life could be hard (even without the life-threatening situations she constantly seemed to find herself in), but she was getting by. She tried not to get too close to anyone, afraid of losing still another person, but she still got along well with the people she worked with, and the pay wasn't bad. She could pretend that life was good.
    She went through her normal routine to get ready for work, glad that it didn't require much thought. One would think that she would be used to having nightmares by now, but they still got to her. So she was forcibly not thinking about anything as she got dressed, grabbed a jelly doughnut, and walked out the door. 
    She walked to work every day, only taking her car our the subway when it was absolutely necessary, and her work was close enough that she didn't have to. The only problem was that there was always the chance of meeting unsavory people along the way. Today, for instance, she did not like the way the man outside the electronics shop watched her as she walked briskly by him. She hoped that he was only admiring her looks, but she tended to be defensive. Sure, she looked decent - mid-height, slender, thick, auburn hair to the middle of her back, bright green eyes, and pale skin dotted with a few freckles - but her mind still always jumped to the worst when people looked at her.
    This time it didn't appear that she was too far off as the man pushed himself off the side of the building and began tailing her. She quickly thought through her options: she could ignore him, challenge him, or run. She settled for ignoring him. They were in a public place, after all, so what could he really do?
    It appeared that public places weren't really a concern of his, though, as Mia suddenly felt a hand wrap around her arm and pull her into the nearest alleyway. She opened her mouth to call for help, but he had her pressed up against the alley wall and a hand over her mouth before she could utter a sound. He smiled sickeningly at her and Mia couldn't help but wonder where that great luck of hers was now.    
    She didn't have to wonder long before a fist suddenly collided with the mans face, managing to knock him out in a single blow. Mia looked up to see that her savior was a tall, pale man with a mess of brown hair, wearing a black trench coat.    
    "Are you alright?" he asked her, his eyebrows drawn together and his deep brown eyes showing concern.
    Mia nodded once, smoothing her top down a bit self-consciously. "Thank you."
    "Don't mention it. Are you sure you're alright, though. That must have shaken you."    
    "I'm fine." I've been through worse, she added to herself. "I really appreciate your help. Now, I'd better get to work."    
    "I can walk you."    
    "I can manage, really."
    He looked as though he was about to protest, but then thought better of it. "Alright.... Have a nice day."    
    She gave him a small smile. "You too," she said before turning and walking to work at an even quicker pace than before.

    "You have got to be the luckiest person in the world."
    Mia sighed as she folded the sweater and added it to the stack beneath the display. Even if she had admitted that she had some kind of twisted form of luck, it didn't stop it from getting old when it was the same comment everyone made when she told them about something that had happened to her. It was why she normally avoided telling people when at all possible. Some people may like to brag about surviving, but when it was something that happened everyday, bragging kind of lost its appeal. The only reason her coworkers knew was because she was a bit late getting to work, and so she had had to tell her supervisor what had happened. Theresa, whom she was now folding clothes with, had been standing nearby and had heard the entire conversation. Mia was beginning to severely wish that she had made up some other story, and was thinking that that was probably what she would do the next time something like this happened (and there was no point denying it anymore, there would be a next time).
    "Seriously, though," Theresa continued. "You must have some sort of guardian angel."
    "Yeah, I'm sure that's it," Mia muttered. "Could you pass me the price gun? This one's missing the price."
    Theresa passed the gun without a comment on the subject, seemingly finding Mia's misfortune (or fortune, depending on how you looked at it) far more interesting. "It is possible, you know. I've read stories about people getting into accidents and seeing angels that were protecting them - like some kind of vision of the divine brought on by the near-death experience."
    "Well, those people were hallucinating. I've had many near-death experiences, but I've never seen any kind of angel."
    "Maybe they don't look like what you think. This guy who saved you - I've heard that angels can come down to Earth in human form - maybe he's your angel."
    "Great. I'll be sure to picture him the next time I pray - which is never, by the way. Even if this wasn't completely crazy, why would an angel protect me when I don't even believe in them?"
    "Because you have a greater purpose. God has been known to save people who aren't believers yet, but He knows that they will be one day."
    "Well, He's wrong. And if I do have a guardian angel, why do things like this keep happening to me? It doesn't make sense. There is no divine power at work here, it is just luck."
    Theresa shook her head. "I don't understand. I would think that if anyone would believe, it would be someone who had gone through the things that you had."
    "That's because it's what you believe. Going through the things that I have, I'm able to have clarity, to see things as they really are. You believe in God, so you don't want to admit that."
    "No. I know that God exists and that He is protecting you."
    "Then why is everyone I care about dead?" The words had slipped from Mia's mouth before she could stop them. It wasn't that Theresa didn't know what had happened at her high school graduation - basically, the whole world knew - but she still didn't like talking about it. She was making herself vulnerable by asking the question, by admitting that she was still hurting, and with the things that she went through, vulnerable was one thing that she could not be.
    Realization sparked in Theresa's eyes, quickly followed by sympathy. "You're looking at this the wrong way, Mia. You think that God caused the incident at your graduation, but He didn't. There is evil in the world, but that is not God, that is Satan. God sent an angel to save you though - as to why you and not anyone else, no one can know but Him. One day, He will restore the world, and then there will be no more pain and suffering. You will be able to be with everyone that you lost."
    Mia was quiet for a few moments, a part of her actually buying into Theresa's story. As much as she tried not to think of it, she still remembered her childhood quite clearly. She remembered attending church with her parents, making an effort to listen to the pastor and understand what he was saying. More often than not, though, she just ended up doodling on the program. The only Bible stories she really remembered were the ones that he parents would read to her before she went to bed. Still, she had always considered herself a Christian, even though she had never actually been baptized.    
    After her graduation, her psychiatrist had encouraged her to continue going to church, saying that it would be something that was familiar to her. The first church service that she had attended without her parents had been about how it was important to have faith even when things weren't going well for her. Listening to that sermon, Mia had made an important realization. She wasn't a Christian, not really. She had attended church because her parents brought her with them, and now that they were gone, her faith crumpled. Christians were supposed to have faith even in the bad times, and she couldn't. She had walked out in the middle of that service and had never stepped foot in a church again.
    Theresa's story was appealing, though. If she was right, she knew that her parents would have certainly gone to Heaven, and it was nice to think that she might be able to see them again one day. She could almost see it - the beautiful, glowing afterlife, and her parents there waiting for her. But the vision quickly shattered. It was a fairy-tale, too perfect to be true.
    Mia looked back to Theresa with a small smile that was almost more of a grimace. "If there is some kind of divine force in this world, then it hates me."

    Walking home that evening, Theresa's words were still playing in Mia's head. "You must have some sort of guardian angel." "You have a greater purpose." "God sent an angel to save you." It was all completely ridiculous, but for whatever reason, she couldn't stop thinking about it. What if she did have a guardian angel? What would that mean exactly? That she could never die? Or at least, not until she fulfilled whatever greater purpose that she supposedly had. But if this angel was so set on protecting her, why didn't it save the people she cared about too? Didn't it understand that she needed them? How was she supposed to do anything great when she was just going through the motions every day?
    She shook her head slightly. Why was she even entertaining these thoughts? Angels weren't real, and neither was God. It was all just a fairy-tale to help some people have hope in life, but that image had been shattered for her. She saw that there was no hope, and that life was ultimately meaningless.
    She suddenly came to a stop on the deserted street, not far from where she had been attacked earlier that day. This area was never very busy at night, one of the things she liked about it. A single silver Mercedes drove by and then nothing. She looked up at the sky, stars twinkling down at her against the black.
    "Hey, angel, you there?" she called into the nothingness. She told herself that she was mocking, but maybe a small part of her was hoping that something might come of it. "If you're spending so much time saving me, why don't you show yourself? Tell me what it is I'm supposed to be doing." She waited a few moments, the area around her just as silent as it always was. She wasn't surprised, but she still felt her heart sink slightly. "Yeah, that's what I thought," she sighed.
    "What did you think?"
    Mia spun around. Standing behind her was the man who had saved her earlier that day. She hadn't realized just how tall he was before, she had to tilt her head up to meet his brown eyes that looked almost black in the night. "This guy who saved you - I've heard that angels can come down to Earth in human form - maybe he's your angel," she suddenly remembered Theresa saying. But he couldn't be, could he? It was just a coincidence. Though she had to admit, the black trench coat, and the way his face was shadowed, he did look quite mysterious.    
    "That I was alone," Mia answered defensively, which was basically her default demeanor. "Are you following me?"
    He chuckled. "So you were talking to yourself then?" he asked, and she wondered if he was deliberately avoiding her question. "Some say that's a sign of madness."
    "Others may say that every great genius talks to themselves on occasion."
    Even with his face being in shadow, Mia noticed his thin lips turning up in a grin. "Touche." 
    Mia crossed her arms, looking at him coldly. Angel or not (and he probably wasn't), she didn't trust any guy whom she just happened to run into twice in one day. Besides, there was something about his demeanor that was far too cocky for her comfort. “What are you doing here?” she demanded coolly. 
    He raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. “This is a public street, is it not? I am permitted to walk down it without being questioned.”
    She hoped that he couldn't see the slight blush that appeared on her cheeks. “Well, no offense, but this is the second time I've seen you today.”
    “And that’s a problem?”
    “It is if you don’t like coincidences.”
     “And I’ll take it that you don’t?”
     “No. Earlier today you saved my life, and then you just happen upon me while I’m alone on the street?” 
    “And talking to yourself,” he added with a slight smirk.
    “Forget about that,” she snapped. “The point is, you keep popping up.” 
    “I wasn't aware that seeing someone twice in one day meant that they’re following you. It couldn't just be that since we were clearly walking to work around the same time, it would logically follow that we would be getting off around the same time.”
    “And so you felt the need to talk to me?” She knew that she was grasping at straws now, and she was sure that by this point he could easily see her blush, but she hated to admit to being wrong.
    “I repeat, you were talking, I was just responding.”    
    "Well, it was unnecessary."
    He was silent for a few moments, eyeing Mia curiously while she maintained her defiant expression. She wasn't sure what exactly she was hoping to achieve here. An apology? But even she could admit that he hadn't really done anything wrong (she just couldn't admit that to him). Or maybe there really was a part of her hoping that he was some kind of guardian angel and she was trying to get him to admit to it. The only thing his expression gave away, though, was that he didn't understand the broken woman standing in front of him (well, maybe he couldn't tell that she was broken, but Mia was always paranoid that that fact was written across her face, especially now).
    "You know..." he started slowly, almost hesitantly, as if he wasn't sure how Mia would react to his next statement (not that she could really blame him for his uncertainty). "I have the feeling that most women are grateful when someone saves them from being raped."
    "Well, I'm not most women."
    He glanced down slightly, eyeing Mia through his eyelashes. "Clearly," he muttered, and if Mia wasn't mistaken, there was a trace of coolness in his voice now too.
    "Look, I don't owe you anything."
    "I never said that you did. I just wish you wouldn't treat me like the enemy when you would probably be dead if it weren't for me."
    "Oh, I'm sure I would have found a way to get out of it even if you hadn't come along."
    "I doubt it." There was a hard surety in his tone that made Mia look at him in slight surprise. Maybe he did know more than he was letting on. Maybe when he he had said that she would be dead if it wasn't for him, he wasn't just talking about this one time. No, it was completely ridiculous, she repeated to herself. There was no such thing as angels, and even if there was, he surely wouldn't be one.
    "Believe what you want." She began to turn to walk away. She really should have ended this conversation a while ago. What was she even doing, trying to reason with him? What had come over her today? But her next words caused her to freeze.
    "Don't you think it would be much more beneficial to believe the truth?"
    She stood frozen for a second before turning slowly back to face him. "What do you mean by that?" she asked slowly. All coldness was gone from her expression, and she was now looking at him with a mix of wonder, hesitance, and curiosity.
    His eyebrows furrowed slightly at her question. "Well, I know I wouldn't want to believe something that isn't true - it's part of the point of believing in it."
    "And what do you believe in?" she asked softly.
    The smug little grin returned to his face, and Mia could instantly feel her hostility toward him rising again. "That's a little personal, don't you think?"
    "Most people want to share their beliefs," she pointed out.
    He chuckled slightly, taking a step towards her. "I believe in a purpose. We all have one, even you."
    "And what is mine?" She had once again spoken without thinking. He wasn't a guardian angel, so he wouldn't know what her purpose was... right?
    He gave more of a laugh this time. "I suppose you'll have to figure that out on your own. Assuming you believe that?"
    She hesitated before shaking her head. "No."
    "What do you believe in, then?"
    "I believe in a beginning and an end, and in the middle you deal with the cards you're dealt."
    "Doesn't sound like a very positive outlook."
    "My experience with life hasn't been very positive."
    "Then maybe you should do something to make it better - find your purpose."
    Mia laughed. "Yes, tomorrow when I go into work, I'll quit my job and go on a quest to find my purpose in life. Do you hear how ridiculous that sounds?"
    He shook his head slightly. "You don't have to go on some adventure to find your purpose. You take the opportunities you're presented with." He gave her a slightly more genuine smile as he pulled a piece of paper and a pencil out of his pocket, writing something down before handing it to her. Mia took it, looking at it curiously to see a phone number. She looked up at him with raised eyebrows. "In case you ever need someone to talk to. You said that your experience with life hasn't been a good one; I'd like to help make it better."
    "I don't think anyone could do that."
    "You don't have to believe it now, you just have to take a chance. Have a little faith." He took a step back, his smile still in place. "I hope to hear from you soon."
    Mia watched him walk away, still trying to process everything. She should just throw the phone number into the nearest trash can, but instead, she slipped it into her pocket. She breathed out a deep breath before turning around and walking back to her apartment. This had been quite the day, even by her standards, and she really didn't know what to do with that.

    Mia wasn't paying much attention as her pencil moved across the paper. She had intended to sit down and work on compiling the inventory list for the store, but she hadn't been able to concentrate. Before she knew it, her list had turned into doodles of dark eyes staring up at her. Mia wasn't an amazing artist, but she was decent and she enjoyed it as a form of escape. Now when she looked down at her paper, it seemed as though the eyes were glaring accusingly at her.
    She sighed and crumpled up the paper, tossing it into the trashcan. The paper bounced off the side, rolling a short distance away. Creepy drawings, horrible aim, and buying into guardian angels, there was definitely something wrong with her tonight. She got to her feet, starting to walk over to pick it off, but almost as soon as she got to her feet, the phone rang. She changed direction, walking over and picking up the receiver.
    "Hello?" she answered.
    "Is this Mia Yates?" a professional male voice responded immediately.
    "Who is this?" Sometimes she wondered if she was too suspicious, but with the life that she had had, who could blame her?
    "My name is Luke Beelze. I would like to talk to you about a business opportunity."
    Mia was silent for a moment as she processed that. "What?" she finally asked, glad that he couldn't see her shocked expression.
    "A business opportunity. I am the head of a very important company, and you have caught our eye."
    "From my work at the shop?" Was this seriously happening to her? And right after she had had a conversation with some stranger about how she should find her purpose by taking opportunities? And here she was thinking that this day couldn't get any more weird.
    "Not exactly. This isn't a conversation that I would like to have over the phone. Could we arrange a meeting in person? As soon as possible."
    "Um, what company did you say you represent?"
    "That will be covered in the meeting."
    Mia bit her lip, thinking it over. This whole thing was suspicious. How had he found her? The shop was the only place she had ever worked, so how else could she have caught the company's eye? And why couldn't he even say the name of the company? This didn't sit right with her. Maybe it was a great opportunity, but she wasn't going to risk it. "I appreciate the offer, but no thank you."
    "No? You don't even know what you're turning down. At least meet with me first and let me explain the situation."
    "I'm sorry, but unless you can give me some answers now, the my answer is no."
    "The nature of this business is very delicate and it cannot be discussed over the phone. I implore you to meet with me."
    "No. I'm happy at the shop - I don't need to work at some secret organization."
    "You're making a big mistake."
    "I don't think I am. Goodbye." Without giving him a chance to say another word, she hung up the phone. That guy may have told her to seize opportunities to find her purpose, but she was not trusting some conversation over her gut. This whole situation felt wrong, and she was not risking it when she already had a decent thing going for her.
    She sighed as she put down the phone and turned around. What was wrong with her life? Was it not enough that she had already lost everything, why did everything else have to be so messed up? She walked back over to her desk, collapsing into the chair before her eyes landed on the surface of the desk and she froze.
    Staring up at her were the cold eyes that she had drawn earlier, on the piece of paper that she had thrown to the trashcan just a couple minutes ago. The paper was perfectly flat with no sign of the creasing that her wadding it up would have caused. She slowly look up, over the table to see that the floor around the trashcan was clean and void of any paper. How was this possible? Had she been imagining that she had thrown it in the first place? But she could have sworn that she had.    
    She shook her head. She had enough to deal with without worrying about a mysterious reappearing piece of paper. She wadded the paper up again, this time getting up and walking over to the trashcan to drop it deliberately in. She just had a lot on her mind right now, clearly that was it. It must be easy to think you did something when you have a million thoughts swirling around in your head. But this time it was in the trash. She even stopped for a moment, looking down at where it rested among paper, soda cans, and various wrappers. Definitely in the trash.
    She continued on, walking into the bathroom and taking a long, hot shower. She put on some music to block out her thoughts and just let the water run over her in a comforting manner. She had gotten quite good at blocking things out over time, and now she was working on blocking out this entire day. The phone call, the guy, she never wanted to think of any of it again.     
    Upon climbing out of the shower, she put on her robe and walked into the bedroom. The shower had been nice, but now she was ready to sleep the day off. She reached her bed, reaching down to turn down the comforter before dropping it and taking a quick step back. No, now that was not possible.
    Just beneath the comforter was the drawing of the eyes that she had thrown away possible twice now, once again, void of any creases. How had that happened? She had definitely thrown it away the last time. And even if she hadn't, she had never even brought it into her bedroom, and certainly hadn't put it under her comforter. She snatched it up quickly, shredding it into several pieces, before throwing it away. 
    There had to be some kind of logical explanation for this, but she didn't see how there could be. Maybe she was just hallucinating. Maybe she had gone through so much trauma that she couldn't handle it anymore, so she had snapped. It wasn't a desirable explanation, but it was all that she could come up with.
    Hopefully some sleep would solve the problem, she thought as she finally climbed into bed. Sleep didn't come easily that night, though. Minutes went by as she laid on her back, staring up at the ceiling, hating how aware she was of all the shadows that moved across the room.
    She didn't normally scare easily, after all, things that scared most people, she faced in her every day life. Right now, though, she was afraid. The events of the day had left her with an eerie vibe and she couldn't ignore it as easily as she usually could. Her imagination was going crazy. She had to keep reminding herself that the howling was just the wind and the movement outside her window was just the tree branches blowing.    
    When she finally did fall asleep, her dreams were full of cold eyes leering at her in the darkness and a low voice telling her that her time was running out. She awoke with a start, her eyes immediately scanning the room to ensure that everything was alright. 
    She let out a scream, the like of which she hadn't let out since the night of her graduation - it conveyed pure horror and alarm. In the corner of her nearly pitch-black bedroom, two golden eyes were looking directly at her. She could just make out the shadow of a person standing there, the body encased by darkness. The eyes stared at her emotionless, unblinking, and she felt as if they were looking into her soul. 
    Without taking her eyes off of the other, not even daring to blink, she reached to the side of her bed and clicked on the lamp. At once, the room was illuminated and the eyes disappeared. Mia looked around the room in confusion, but everything was as it should be. Her things were where she had left them, and there was no one else in the room. 
    She sighed, sinking back into bed. She must have still been dreaming. She was being so ridiculous, it was embarrassing. Wondering, if only a little bit, if she might have a guardian angel; thinking that there was someone else in her room. It just wasn't like her, and she wondered for a moment if maybe she should go back to counseling.
    She ran her hands over her face, still unable to shake the feeling that someone was watching her. She turned her head slightly, looking down at the bedside table to see a piece of paper. For a moment, her heart stopped, already expecting to see those horrible eyes staring up at her again, but instead it was just a series of ten numbers. It took her a few seconds to remember the guy before giving her his phone number. She didn't remember putting it on her nightstand, but she must have. She picked it up, looking at it thoughtfully. She didn't even know his name, but he hadn't struck her as particularly likable. He was far too smug and it annoyed her. Still, he had saved her life, and he had said to call if she ever needed to talk. Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was one in the morning and she almost backed down. But it wasn't like she particularly cared about waking him up, and she just really needed a distraction right now. Besides, it wasn't like she had any friends that she could call to talk to since she stayed so distant from everyone.
    It didn't take her long to convince herself, and then she picked up her phone, dialing the number. Maybe it wasn't even his real number, she thought as she listened to the phone ring. He seemed like the kind of guy who would find giving a girl the wrong number an amusing joke. Her thought were interrupted by a tired sounding voice.
    "Hello?"
    "Hi... this is - well, you don't actually know my name, but we met earlier today - or yesterday, I guess. You gave me your number and told me to call if I needed someone to talk to."
    "The girl with no purpose, right?"
    Mia sighed. "If that's how you remember me, then yes, I guess so."
    "Do you make a habit of calling people at one in the morning?"
    "You told me to call if I needed someone, you didn't give me any time parameters."
    "I suppose that is true. What's going on?"
    "Well..." What was she supposed to say to him? She didn't even know this guy, was she supposed to just tell him that she was having hallucinations? What had she been thinking? "There's some - stuff going on. I just kind of need a distraction."
    "What kind of stuff?" he asked curiously.
    "That isn't important." He clearly already didn't think much of her, and though she didn't really care about his opinion, she didn't feel like making the matter worse. "I just need to get my mind off of everything."
    "Very well. What would you like to talk about, then?"
    I blinked in surprise, suddenly realizing that I hadn't really expected him to be willing to talk to me. Maybe he did have a decent bone in his body hidden somewhere beneath the attitude. "Anything. I don't care."
    "What's your name?"
    "I don't think you really need to know that." She may have been willing to call him, but she wasn't willing to trust him.
    "You're calling me at one in the morning, I think I have a right to your name."
    She sighed. "Tell me yours first."
    "No. You called me, so you get to tell me first."
    "You gave me your number," she argued.
    "Look, you're the one who wants to talk. So, what if I hang up if you don't tell me your name?"
    "Then hang up. I don't need to talk to you, I just thought I'd give it a shot."
    "You seemed pretty desperate."
    "Did I? Well, I'm not. So go on then, hang up. Because I'm not telling you my name until you tell me yours."
    He chuckled. "You really are stubborn, anyone ever tell you that?"
    "It might have been mentioned before."
    "It's slightly endearing."
    "Okay, if you're going to come onto me, then I'm going to hang up."
    "Rather touchy, too. Okay then, since you want to talk, tell me about yourself, the parts that you're okay with me knowing."
    "I don't even know where to go with that." Truth be told, Mia kept herself locked away from everyone, even herself. She went through the motions of everyday life, trying not to get too attached to anything or to let too much of herself out. Life was bad enough as it was, she didn't need to allow for any more pain to come her way.
    "Well, let's start with the basics, then. What are your hobbies?"
    "Drawing and reading, mostly."
    "What kinds of things do you like to draw?"
    Creepy eyes, apparently. "Abstract stuff."
    "So you have a lot of chaos in your life, things that are hard to sort through. You let your feelings about it all out artistically because you're afraid to face it."
    Mia didn't say anything for a moment, surprised by just how right he was. She would never have admitted to that, but hearing him say it, she knew it was true. "You got all that from the fact that I enjoy doing abstract art?"
    "That and I'm good at reading people."
    "Don't tell me you're a psychiatrist," she muttered. If he was, she was hanging up right then and there. Maybe she was going crazy, but there was no way that she was going back to talking to a shrink.
    "No," he laughed. "But I would be a pretty good one."
    "What do you do then?"
    "Nope, I'm not done yet. We'll get to me later."
    At that, Mia actually laughed. "Fine. What else do you want to know? And I reserve the right to not answer anything I don't want to."
    "Of course. What's your favorite book?"
    "The Great Gatsby."
    "I can see that. Not one of the happiest books ever written."
    "It fits well with life, then."
    "You have such a negative view. Why?"
    "Because I have yet to find happiness in what I'm offered."
    "Maybe that's because you push it away. It's like I said before, you have to take a chance, find your purpose."
    "I got a job offer today." She didn't know why she felt the need to tell him that. Maybe she just wanted to know that she had done the right thing by turning it down.
    "Congratulations. See, that's exactly what I'm talking about."
    "I didn't take it."
    "Why not?" he asked in confusion.
    "It didn't sit right with me. The guy was all secretive - wouldn't tell me anything about the job or how he had found me. For all I know, the offer wasn't even genuine."
    "You never know unless you take a chance."
    "I prefer to go with my gut."
    "Yes, because I'm sure that you always have all the answers."
    "You know what, forget I said anything. It's your turn, tell me about yourself." She didn't want to think about the fact that he might be right. She didn't want to think that she could very well have just turned down her one chance for happiness, to find her supposed purpose in life. Even though she didn't believe in that, she couldn't get the thought from her mind.
    "What would you like to know?"
    "Where do you work?"
    "Next question."
    "What?"
    "Next question," he repeated matter-of-factly.
    "Why won't you tell me?"
    "I like being mysterious."
    The guardian angel theory came back to her once again. In the off chance that it was true, it would make sense that he wouldn't tell her where he works. But surely an angel wouldn't have a phone number and wouldn't be quite so annoying. And she didn't believe in angels, anyway, she reminded herself. Besides, this wasn't the first time today that someone had refused to tell her about their place of employment. And if that company hadn't heard about her from the store...
    "You work for the company that offered me a job, don't you? That's how they found out about me."
    "You think I went immediately back to my boss after talking to you and told him about the crazy, pessimistic girl I met on the street? Wow, you must think you made quite the impression."
    "I didn't say it made sense, but I'm not fond of coincidences, and this whole day has been one."
    "You got a job offer after I talked to you about seizing opportunities. I think that might just be fate."
    Mia sighed. "Fine, I'll believe you." At least somewhat - she still wasn't so sure about it all. "What are your hobbies, then?"
    "Helping people."
    "Oh, so that's why you gave me your number, is it?"
    "Yes."
    "Well, I'm flattered, really, but I don't need your help."
    "Clearly you do."
    "You really are full of yourself, you know that?"
    "I like to think of it as self-aware. I know my strengths and I like to use them, there's nothing wrong with that."
    "Yeah, except that you seem to think that you're the greatest thing to walk this Earth."
    "I never said that. And I don't."
    "Right," she muttered skeptically.
    "Well, have I successfully distracted you?"
    "Yes." She was reluctant to admit it, but he had actually helped her quite a bit.
    "Good. Does that mean I earn your name?"
    "No."
    He sighed. "I guess I'll just have to keep trying."
    "I guess you will."
    "Not tonight, though. I'd better let you get some sleep."
    "Fine by me."
    "Goodnight, my bitter one."
    "You're hilarious," Mia muttered as she hung up the phone. She hadn't had that long of a phone conversation in a while, but despite who it was with, it had actually been rather nice.
    She laid back in bed, falling asleep almost immediately, and this time managing to stay asleep until morning.