The sky opened up and seemed to swallow the world whole. Rain fell like shards of glass onto the ground below; people dodging it like bullets that were spraying onto the universe. He stood against the building, lurking and feeling the heaviness of the precipitation against his form. The Girl was at her university, darting through the rain soaked campus with a blue spotted umbrella. She was laughing with her friends as she tried to avoid the muddy puddles on the ground. She seemed normal, happy. There was almost no reason for him to keep such close guard over her, except for the compulsion, that magnetic pull he felt towards her. So, he mostly watched from farther back. He had decided to let her live her life. If she wasn't in danger, it wasn't his place to interfere. He couldn't bring her down. Besides, he had others to check in on. He ran his hands through his hair and turned away. It was time to actually do his job.
An old man sat in his room, staring at the window. He responded to no one, just absentmindedly plucked guitar strings to no one in particular. At least that they could see. Everyday, every moment he was sicker and lonelier, he did have one visitor. A very repentant young man. The old man faintly heard footsteps. His visitor was here. He hadn't been able to see in years, but he could see his visitor vividly. Tall, lanky, serious face. He grew more concern as the years passed. But lately he had been distracted. The old man decided to finally speak to his visitor.
"Why do you look so sad?" The young man looked shocked. He looked around and searched for another form in the room. No one was there. The old man cleared his throat. "I said," he started, " why are you sad? Why are you here?"
"You can see me?" He asked, shocked.
"I can't see much, but I can see you," the old man laughed, "and you don't need to be sad. If you aren't gonna answer questions, I'm gonna play." The old man laid back and began playing a slower song. They sat in the room silently, listening to the music. Finally, the old man looked up at him. "Thank you," he said.
"For what?" The visitor replied, "I cant save you. I can't stop fate."
The old man laughed, "no one can stop fate. But thank you for being here when no one else was. That means a lot. It always has." The old man laid back and drifted off, closing his eyes. His visitor rose, sadly. There was nothing he could do. It was his time. But he was glad that he could see him. His words rang in his ears. As he softly touched the wall, he felt a sudden intense pain. It knocked him to the ground. He couldn't breathe for a moment. It was hard to rise. The Girl. No, no, no he thought.
He rushed outside to find her. Every moment became harder, more painful. He touched his face to see if blood was dripping down. It wasn't, but he could feel it. He found himself at an intersection. He could barely make out what the group of people were saying. It took him a minute to understand. There was an ambulance, police, a fire truck. Every word sounded scattered. Finally, something came through clearly.
"....young woman, hit by car.... injuries..... critical condition......"
He then felt part of him rip in half. Where was she? He had to find The Girl, and he had to find her now.
To be continued