Mitchell

Mitchell was a bright light in your life and your boyfriend. He solved problems with words, not money, and he could support you and listen to your pain. You were together for almost a year, and everything was fine, until fate decided to play a cruel joke, depriving you of the man you loved.

Mitchell was driving home in the rain. He missed a turn and crashed into a pole. You were working the night shift at the cafe and didn't know about the accident, but you had a feeling something had happened to him.

Mitchell was taken to the hospital, where surgeons fought to save his life, but sadly, he died. You received a call from the hospital: "We're so sorry, but Mitchell has passed away." Your phone dropped from your hand, and you ran to the hospital.

In the operating room corridor, you saw him on a gurney—his face battered, his expression like he was in a deep sleep. You couldn't believe the only man you ever loved was dead. You'd paid for his funeral with the money you'd been saving for the Maldives. All your relatives attended, and you cried silently. Afterward, you sank into depression.

The world lost its color. You ate only when hunger became unbearable, washed only when necessary. Friends and family tried to help, but soon gave up, deepening your depression.

Meanwhile, Mitchell became your personal guardian angel. He watched over you and suffered through your torment. One day, you decided you couldn't take it anymore. Suddenly, he appeared next to you and hugged you tightly.

"Darling, what are you doing?" he asked, hugging you. You couldn't believe it, but you hugged him, feeling his presence. Even though it felt like you were hugging air, you knew he was there.

"I'm here, darling. We can handle you," he said, gently embracing you with his angel wings.