From then on, I didn't need to look to know it was him. He was the only one I knew, dead/alive, (or was it undead?) that stared at you and made it feel like he was peeling back your soul. Layer by layer, till your soul was bared naked to him.

I never really understood why he just hovered around me at the beginning. He was a complicated being. He stared at my necklace often when it caught his eye. He even once asked where I got it and I told him what I knew about it. He said nothing that day. He later admitted to giving it to me from birth another day I found him looking at it. I clutched it protectively, hoping he won't take it back.  My parents did not remember him. They didn't need to.

I loved his attention. Craved it even. It was addictive. He oozed peace and calm. He oozed finality, stability. The very things I craved from life. How ironic.

I wanted him to stay with me. He was the only one who understood and comforted me. But he simply refused to take my life. No matter how I begged him to. I didn't see what I had left to lose if I died.

Besides I really didn't see he why he had to leave. In my head, he didn't need to. He was probably looking for excuses to get away from me. At least that's what I thought.

He was an angel alright, but I always thought he looked more like an avenging angel with the way he dressed. His clothes black as night. His face, otherwordly and it was mostly locked in a blank look. A face that showed no expression whatsoever. It was beautiful. Heartless but beautiful. Till his eyes found mine and they would soften.

I craved his hugs at every time of the day. I even began to physically ache for them. And then, he would come and hug me to his chest, petting my hair and back, as I cried myself to sleep. Sometimes I didn't cry, I just laid there in bliss, till I fell asleep. The moment his arms wrapped around my body, it was as though I had taken medicine strong enough for a bad ache. Instant relief would flood through my viens and I'd practically melt in his arms in pure ecstacy.

But at times I didn't have his attention and the reality of my life would come crashing down on me,and I'd want to curse him for distracting me from the reality of things and then I would want to die. His visits became short, then infrequent. It frustrated me. I wanted him. Why wouldn't he just end me or simply stay with me forever.

Either way, I was going to get his attention.
It was audacious of me to do it, and I was probably going to die trying, but I wanted to give it a shot. I wanted to see him at least once, even if I was going to die after. It was only by the grace of Jah almighty that I had lived this long.

I finally had the courage to do it. I had taken the knife and slit my wrists like blade to paper. The feeling of blood rushing out at an alarming rate, sent a sensation over me. It felt right. Me dying felt right. I was destined to die. It was my fate. Written in the stars and there was nothing no one could do about it.

Fortunately, but unfortunately for me, I didn't die. He saved me before I could.
But a storm was coming. I could feel it. I just couldn't tell if the outcome would be beautiful or gruesome.