The first story Mom told me was about the Guardian Angels, one of the Highest rank: Angels are a strict folk and they have a tight ranking system that establishes a hierarchy, which constitutes their society. Unlike their superiors of the Absolute rank, the High Angels, who, secretly as they are not supposed to, love to have the Power, and the Master Angels, who enjoy having the control and order, Guardian Angels are only interested in Humans, whom they find fascinating- it seems like they can spend hours reading books about us or observing us, and enjoy being on Earth. Nonetheless, they are really proud of their occupation and their rank. Mom said that every human has a guardian, an angel who secretly watches over them and discretely protects them from dangers and misfortunes.
But when, now, I see all the woes there are in this world, I wonder if they are doing their job correctly. Well, if they exist.     “Goodbye!” the driver exclaimed from his seat and I greeted him back, quickly getting off the bus. Earphones plugged in my ears, I started walking slowly in the alleys of my neighborhood and wandered home as I looked at the sky. It was already dark, the night had fallen an hour ago, while I was waiting for the bus at school. And there was no sound, beside a few dogs barking when I passed in front of their houses. I sighed in the silence, winter’s cold air making white smoke come out of my lips, “Tired…” I dived my hands deeper in the pockets of my oversized coat and looked down at my feet. A small stone appeared in my sight. I kicked it mercilessly but it stopped almost immediately at another pair of shoes. And before I could take the information in that someone was standing in the way, I bumped into the body of a man, stumbling backward a bit as I apologized, “I’m really sorry!” I bowed. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Then I looked up. It was a young man, in his early twenties, around 180 cm tall, with greenish gray hair, plump lips, small eyes and a piecing gaze. He stood there and stared at me quietly, for what felt like an eternity. But it was the way he was looking into my eyes that made me feel uncomfortable. Because it seemed like he knew everything about me and could read me like an open book. “I’ll get going,” I said timidly, after the few seconds that had been more like hours, and quickly walked passed him with a small bow of the head. At a fast pace, I exited the small, barely lighted, alley to a bigger one with a hair dresser, a convenience store at a corner, and a modest jajangmyeon restaurant. Then I took a quick look over my shoulder, to see that the man was still there, and that he was looking at me. I turned my head back and kept on walking. After this rather big alley, silence fell again- the yells of the couple owning the hair dresser shop as they were arguing died out, the noises of plates and glasses, and even the restaurant’s smells disappeared too. I thought everything was alright but after a few meters, a new sound rose behind me, echoing against the walls of the buildings and sending goosebumps down my spin. What is this? Am I going to be harassed? I thought and the conclusion that I had to run immediately pinged in my head like a light bulb. I moved my legs as fast as I could. But I took a different way, not heading directly to my house, and hoping that man wasn’t familiar with the maze this neighborhood was. He didn’t chase after me. But I ran as much as I could, my school bag bouncing on my shoulders, until I was panting and gripping on my knees as I gasped for some oxygen. The freezing air was burning my throat at each breath. “I… should be… safe now,” I whispered to myself with difficulty. I miss my warm bed and an intense hot chocolate. I looked up from the ground, still a bit out of breath but ready to go home.