I sighed and heaved my bag onto the couch. Home sweet home. Following routine, I walked over to the fridge and looked inside. Ice cream. Perfect. I scooped 3 generous heaps of strawberry and cream ice cream into a bowl, the tv, then settled in beside my bag. 

"I don't wanna go to school tomorrow..." I moaned while stuffing my mouth with strawberry goodness.

"Well you'll have to. Can't go walking out on your job."

I froze. Don't tell me...

"...Mother?"

A beautiful, kind face appeared before me.

"Correct." She smiled. 

"The whole day was a dream?"

"No. You're wide awake, my dear. This is just the first time we've met in your world."

"Y-you're real?" My head spun. 

"Yes." She said slowly. "I am real. See?"

She brushed the back of her hand against my cheek. Warm. Solid. Real.

I slapped myself across the face.

"What are you doing?" Mother was clearly alarmed. "Did you hit your head at school today?"

It hurt. It was real. Everything was real. The dreams. Her. Our conversations. I'm not insane.

...Or am I?

"Prove it."

"What?"

"Prove that you're real. Prove that I'm not crazy."

"How?" She looked slightly amused. 

"Prove that you exist."

"You see me don't you?"

"You might be like Bobby."

"What?"

"My imaginary friend when I was 6 years old. Bobby."

"Isabella. You are not insane."

Okay. Maybe I'm not.

"You are an angel. And today you succeeded in finding your lamb."

I'm insane. A woman that I've only seen and talked to in dreams is in my living room telling me angels exist. That I'm one. That I own a sheep.

"I didn't find a sheep." I said dumbly.

"Lamb," she corrected. "Oh, yes you did. The one you took a fancy to on your way to school. The one in your class. The one you spent 5 hours trying to hide from.

Oh, no. Just no.

"Nice idea with the avoiding, by the way. Protecting from the shadows. I like it."

Mother, your efforts at comforting me are failing horribly. Even worse, the fact that I need comforting means that I'm actually believing all of this.

" 'Lamb' is the terminology we use for a human protected by an angel. They're normally humans with especially unlucky fates. Your job is to act as a shepherd and nudge them towards the safer routes." She patiently explained.

"I have to act as his babysitter?" 

"In short, yes. Without the pay. For a whole human lifetime."

"This ."

A warm hand laid on my shoulder.

"I know. But you won't be alone. And we will have you prepared." Another smile. "And once you're done, one day you may become a Mother like me."

My head swam. " 'We will have you prepared'? Who's 'we'? And you used to be a Guardian Angel as well?"

"Everyone started off as one, my dear." Mother closed her eyes, as if going into a trance. Moments later she opened her eyes.

"I have to go now, young one. We will talk again tonight. Also, it may be best to pay a visit to Cupid's while we're at it."

Then she was gone.

***

"There you are." Mother hurried towards me over the blankets of fluffy clouds. Every single time we met, it was in a world of white.

"You should go  to Q's right now, before the store gets too crowded."

" 'Q's'?"

"Cupid's nickname. Apparently 'Cupid' is too old-fashioned."

I blinked.

"So, how exactly do I get there?"

She gave me another delicate, breath-taking smile. "Have faith, Isabella."

Have faith. The words my parents would always repeat when I ever questioned Christianity.

"Sorry, I still don't get it."

Mother looked a bit disappointed as her deep, meaningful words failed to enlighten me.

"Just imagine the shop, Isabella. Believe it is real."

"Just imagine any shop? How does that even work?"

She smiled again. "Reality doesn't change. Only how we view reality does."

I still didn't quite understand, but I did as I was told. I imagined a large, temple-like room. With marble pillars, piles and racks of sleek clothing, clean, glossy tiled floors, a modern checkout desk and a fat, jolly man in greek-styled clothing, carrying a golden bow.

And suddenly I was there. Except the shop was crowded with people (do angels count as people?), and the clothes had a much larger variety. Just as I imagined, a short, chubby man stood on top of a stool behind the checkout desk.

The pudgy man glanced over at my direction. 

"Ah! Newcomer? A young fledgeling? Goodness! You don't even have the standard uniform!"

"Uni...Form..?" My brain felt like lead. 

"Uniform." The man beamed brightly. He reminded me of a kindergarten teacher. "Let's see... Cloak... Cloak..."

I tried to go over exactly what had happened today. My sanity returned for a brief few seconds. Is this seriously happening?

"...you want one with a hood?"

"Huh?" 

"Do. You. Want. A. Hood. With. Your. Cloak."

"Yes. Please."

"And what colour do you want?"

"Black."

He raised his eyebrows, but didn't protest. He took a sleek, modern black cloak from a pile in the corner of the room, and hastily handed it to me.

"Ok. Bye bye now."

It was my turn to raise eyebrows now.

"But what about the halo?"

The man stared at me blankly, then gave a rather giggly laugh. "Halos? Oh. Them. They went out of fashion AGES ago. Late 1800s if I remember correct."

I decided to let that one pass. "But then how do people know if angels are angels?"

He burst into hysterics. "My! You, my dear, are quite the comedian. Tell me, do you know of any other creature in existence that has the body of a human and wings of a swan?"

"Humans dressed up as angels?"

The man frowned. "Sharp, aren't you? Hmm... I should report that to the higher ups."

My heart beat quickened.

"Like God?"