An Angel In A Stranger

The snow is drizzling around you; you hope to get a a speck of its coolness on your tongue, warm from caramel hot chocolate topped with snow white marshmallows. Nearby, you see a waffle house, bustling with teenagers goofing around and enjoying the Christmas spirit with hot coffee and scrumptious treats. Although your parents warn you, a 15-year-old girl, to stay near the neighborhood, the multicolored lights hanging out houses and thoughts of presents wrapped in lacy ribbon urge you to enter the waffle house doors. You see a girl, probably around the same age as you, sitting alone on one of the tables near the back. She has a glum look on her face; her jaw is set tight, but she is beautiful, with piercing bold eyes and dark hair covered with fuzzy earmuffs and a hood. Without any hesitation, you approach her, ignoring all the chatter around you. You are blown away and surprised with her own personal Christmas story... 

       "Are you sure you do not want any of our holiday coffee? It comes in flavors of salted caramel, cinnamon mocha, and dark chocolate," the Starbucks waitress, slightly annoyingly, retorted. 

       "Uh..no ma'am, as we told you before, like about a million times, we are fine," Charlie replied arrogantly. The waitress stomped away with an unusually loud sound coming from her high heels. Charlie was my best pal; he had all the qualities I wanted, and he reflected the horrible, flawless parts of me. In other words, Charlie helped me become the perfect girl I always wanted to be since the age of 13. However, now even at 15, I am still known as um.."Reyna Johnson." Yay, so special! Anyhoo, I was always weak, insecure, and full of low self-esteem, and I never knew that it was Charlie leading me to these awful opinions about myself. It was the 22nd of December; Charlie and I were in the cozy atmosphere of Starbucks. There were sparkling snowdrifts doing their winter magic outside, and well, inside, people, both old and young, were sipping their coffee and occasionally on their phones. I can't believe that it was me who was so stupid by judging people on their coolness, or maybe now, extreme quietness. If I hadn't met Charlie, I could have received the magic and spirit from a disguised Christmas angel years ago. 

       After an unusually silent gathering at Starbucks, we both went home. Charlie and I met in kindergarten, the age where you most probably judged a kid by what toys they had. Charlie waddled over me; he had light blue eyes and blond, choppy hair. Apparently, because he had this really cool Lego set, we became instant friends. In the third grade, he transformed into a real friend, the one always fun and jolly, yet always curious to know your emotions. Nevertheless, ever since the sixth grade, he became oddly quiet and to tell the genuine truth, there were some times in which he freaked me out, changing his personalities and way of life. Thankfully, he did not influence me that much to become a different person; I was always the dark-haired, pale girl who had a never ending love for reading. 

       "Dear, we are leaving!" yelled my parents joyfully. They were extremely excited to go holiday shopping; the couple had a certain obsession with collecting "designer" gingerbread houses, which was simply dumb, and hilarious in a way. Even so, I was glad that they were out, so that I could observe the Christmas holidays in my busy town, New York City, without anyone asking me what I was doing. The air outside looked misty, with snowballs overwhelming the winds. Holiday lights decorated houses and apartments in the neighborhood; I just wanted to go grab hot cocoa and cuddle up cozily in a leather couch, but a curious sight stopped me and forced me to exit the house and go outside. And around the corner, I saw Charlie, who no matter how weird and cruel, weeping near the corner; the tears on his face were burning alive. No matter how odd our relationship had grown over the past few weeks, I bent over and grabbed his hand. 

       "Oh, Charlie, oh Charlie." What happened to you?" I kindly questioned. Hoping for a warm pat on the back, he pushed me away and went down the street on his bike; the tears were still wet on his face and they stung his beautiful blue eyes. Unexpectedly, someone approached me from behind. I was fully conscious that I was in a lonely New York alley and that I certainly needed to run, now, that very second. However, a boy, I think from my high school, came and he had a friendly smile on his face, exaggerating his left dimple. He had dark eyes and black, wavy hair; his features were exactly like me. I was wondering why I never paid attention to him in school before. Wisps of hair covered his temple, and he brushed them off in a simple gesture. Even though he barely knew Charlie, he surprisingly told me all about his struggles and complicated emotions since the fourth grade. By passion and interest towards this boy, not force, I followed his lead, on an icy path of crystal white snow in a natural area, probably near the woods. 

       "You know, Charlie never had any bad feeling towards you, not even a little bit. His parents divorce and his brother's unknown death changed him into what he is today," the boy casually said.

       How do you know all of this information about Charlie, I wanted to yell. He would never tell someone who is so rude yet mysterious his personal feelings. However, quite taken aback, I paused and listened to him out of pure perplexity and curiosity.
      "Charlie was a boy who never found anyone, even you Reyna, to confide his feelings. He never found the right friends, parents, or even siblings too. He was still a unique boy, though; he had so much love inside of him, but he never got the encouragement to let it out."
       "Man, you are deep. Who are you?" Yeah, I felt so stupid after saying that.
       "Just the Christmas angel, the soul that brightens everyone up with a smile. I disguise myself each and every visit. Go to the waffle house and narrate your story to the next person that walks toward you," he said, with a brightness in his eyes and smile.
       And with a swish, the angel walked away into the icy, crisp night; his footsteps echoed in my mind, and his last words to me were like angel charm speak. The next second, I ran to the cozy waffle house, wearing leather boots, black tights, and a coat, one that my grandmother bought me years before. There, I saw a random dude and let all the words flow out of my mouth about Charlie. My heart was thumping out of my chest and I was so joyous, just talking about him. The very next day, I met my best friend, pal, and companion; he had a certain gleam in his eyes, a gleam so cheerful that it can only be done and transformed by a Christmas angel.

Citation for Clip Art Used In Image (Girl Singing Carols, Santa Claus, Gift With A Bow, and Cute Penguin: 

Strickland, Laura. MyCuteGraphics. N.p., n.d. Web. 18 Nov. 2013. <http://www.mycutegraphics.com/>.