[ WP ] Your guardian angel hates you . But they still have to do their job ... technically ...

“ Good morning, Cassiel. ” 
 
 “ You can go fuck yourself. ” 
 
 “ Man, I haven ’ t even poured my coffee yet. ” 
 
 “ Your mother is rotting in hell. ” 
 
 “ I mean, you of all people would know. ” 
 
 I really hate Monday mornings. I poured myself a cup of coffee and set it down on the table to cool as I made myself breakfast: microwaved pizza. 
 
 “ Fat fucking slob. ” 
 
 “ Mmmhmm. ” 
 
 Cassiel sat on the table glaring at me. Man, that guy just did not blink. Like ever. I don ’ t think that ’ s an angel thing either, his eyes were always so bloodshot. 
 
 Cassiel is my guardian angel, by the way. I ’ m the only one who can see him and he ’ s sworn to God himself to protect me from harm. He also really doesn ’ t like me. I ’ m not entirely sure why, but it ’ s whatever. I just think it ’ s pretty neat that God wants to protect me for some reason. 
 
 “ Hey Cassie, we ’ re going to the city today to pick up some groceries. How ’ s that sound? ” 
 
 “ Get a job, you freeloading piece of shit. Worthless fucking pig. ” 
 
 “ Yeah, it sounds peachy to me too. Hopefully that pretty girl will be working the register today. ” 
 
 “ I hope she calls you human garbage and spits in your face. ” 
 
 “ God, I could only hope she ’ s that kinky. ” 
 
 I took a sip of coffee as the vein in Cassiel ’ s forehead got even bigger. 
 
 *** 
 
 I drive a piece of shit, 1993 Ford F-150. It ’ s old, grumbly, and not very reliable, but I love it. I hopped in my truck, cracked the window ( yeah, I had roll it down, no fancy-ass features for me ), lit a cigarette, and cranked the engine. Cassiel sat in the passenger seat, glaring at me. 
 
 “ Yeah, I know these things will kill me, no need to preach. ” 
 
 Cassiel just sat there in sullen silence. 
 
 “ Oh right, you ’ re protecting me. So, no lung cancer, right? ” 
 
 Silence. 
 
 “ Praise God, it ’ s going to be a wonderful day. ” 
 
 I shifted into drive and pulled out of my apartment complex. I tuned the radio to my favorite station – an alt rock, top 100 hits something or another. I had enough time to finish my smoke before we reached the grocery store. Cassiel just glared at me the whole ride. 
 
 I parked and we walked inside. Well, Cassiel kinda hovered, I guess. I picked up a cart and we started shopping. 
 
 “ You think I should go with the 1 % or 2 % milk, Cassie? ” 
 
 “ I hope you die friendless and the buzzards feed on your corpse. ” 
 
 “ Like, I don ’ t even really know what the percentages represent. Fat content? Fat content, right? ” 
 
 “ This world would have been better off if your father had spilled the seed from which you came into the mouth of a cheap whore. ” 
 
 “ Is just one percent even that big of a difference? ” 
 
 “ I fucking hate you so much. ” 
 
 “ I ’ m going to get you some eye drops, bud. Your peepers don ’ t look that good. ” 
 
 After we finished getting everything for the apartment, I rolled the cart over to the checkout line. 
 
 “ Ooh, Cass, look, the pretty girl is working. Think I should talk to her? ” 
 
 “ The only good you ’ ll ever do is provide a home for maggots. ” 
 
 “ Yeah, confidence is key. Thanks, bud. ” 
 
 I waited in line until it was my turn to check out and started placing my items on the… the fuck is that thing called? The checkout table? You know, the thing you put your shit on and then the cashier presses a button and it top bit moves towards them. I have no idea what the fuck it ’ s called. 
 
 Anyway, I put my shit on that and attempted small talk. 
 
 “ Morning! ” 
 
 The pretty girl glanced up at me. God, I love red hair and freckles. They ’ re so cute. 
 
 “ Good afternoon. ” 
 
 “ Been pretty busy? ” 
 
 “ No, most people are at work this time of day. Not too busy. ” 
 
 “ Fuck yeah. ” 
 
 I ’ d like to say I ’ m pretty good at small talk. 
 
 “ You ’ re an idiot that should have died in the womb, ” Cassiel said from behind me. 
 
 “ Thanks Cassie. ” 
 
 The girl looked up again. “ Umm, my name ’ s Brittney, not Cassie. And thanks for what? ” 
 
 “ Thanks for what? ” 
 
 “ What? ” 
 
 Suddenly, I heard a crash of broken glass and a man shouted, “ EVERYONE DOWN ON THE FUCKING GROUND! ” 
 
 There was a rain of automatic fire and bits of ceiling tile fell to the ground. A man was walking towards us. He was wearing a black ski mask, a wife beater, and raggy looking jeans. He was also carrying an ugly black gun. 
 
 Brittney screamed and dropped to the floor. I was less concerned. 
 
 “ Hey Cassie, look. I think the store ’ s getting robbed. ” 
 
 “ I love how you state the obvious with such a sense of discovery. You fucking tool. ” 
 
 The robber pointed the gun at me. “ GET ON THE FUCKING GROUND, FUCK FACE. ” 
 
 “ You are a fuck face, ” Cassiel muttered. 
 
 “ I ’ m good, thanks, ” I said to the robber. 
 
 “ Are you crazy?! ” Brittney screamed from the floor. “ Get on the ground or he ’ ll kill you! ” 
 
 “ No, seriously, it ’ s cool. I have a guardian an- “ 
 
 *** 
 
 I woke up later in the back of an ambulance. I had that mask thing on and I was hella drowsy. People still say hella, right? Is that cool? I think it ’ s cool. 
 
 “ Oh shit, he ’ s up. Hey Jake, he ’ s awake. ” 
 
 “ God be praised. Sir, you just survived eight gunshot wounds to the chest. I ’ ve never seen anything like it before. I don ’ t think even one of your vitals was hit. It ’ s a goddamn miracle. ” 
 
 I spotted Cassiel in the corner of the ambulance, glaring. Classic Cassiel. It took a lot of effort, but I managed to give him a thumb ’ s up. 
 
 “ Not dead. I ’ ll take it, Cassie, ” I said with as much a smile I could muster. 
 
 “ Everyone who ever loved you was wrong. ” 
 
 

