When I was about fifteen years old, I had gone through a depression at some point. I felt weird and funky all over. I felt out of place and nobody understood me. Even a nice long walk couldn't cheer me up. I kept my head down and always felt heavy and weak. I was convinced God didn't love me and I felt useless. Of course, I was a teenager at the time, so I was dealing with hormones raging through me like a crazy bull, but from the outside, you could never tell. I would go to school, carrying my Walkman stuffed in my hoodie pocket listening to Thirty Seconds to Mars over and over with my head down, secretly writing/drawing in my journal. I had pricked the ends of all my fingers one day, because I had wanted to feel the invigorating pain as it reminded me of how alive I am. Was it normal to do? Could I blame it on being an emotional teenager?
Until one night, I had gone to sleep and had a series of nightmares. In my first dream, I saw my soul walking around my body as I slept. I sensed my soul was sad, lonely. My second dream, I was struggling up the stairs to heaven, so exhausted and weak, I slumped there and unable to move. The stairs were a pristine white just as the clouds that bobbed around against the baby blue sky. Despite the beauty, I felt ugly. I remember I woke at one point and ran into my parents bedroom. Fifteen and scared out of my mind. I turned and crawled back into my own bed and I must've fallen asleep quickly, because just then, the devil himself appeared to me on the left side of my bed. I remember it like it happened yesterday. He had a gravitational pull on my face, forcing me to look at his face. I felt the strong pull on my neck. His face was dark red, covered in oily boils, his eyes were small, beady and inhuman, the color of yellow urine. His teeth were stalagmites and stalactites, grimy and yellow. I desperately struggled to pull my face away, because I knew I was looking straight at the face of Hell. He continued to grasp his strong pull on me and he began to speak to me. His voice hoarse, unworldly and no other human could ever, EVER, replicate such a hideously disgusting voice. "I'm going to cut your throat open...on your sixteenth birthday, I will kill you."
I cried out. I prayed. I cried out to God, SAVE ME. WAKE ME UP. I prayed the Hail Mary...and suddenly, from the left side bed corner, I felt and saw imprints of hands and knees crawling across my bed, my body, waking me up from this nightmare. I turned to my right and saw an outline of a tall slim figure with vast wings that reached the ceiling. Her figure was somewhat clear/see-through and couldn't be seen like a human would be seen, but I knew immediately she was my guardian angel. She had saved me. To this day, thinking back on that sends chills up and down my spine and frightened tears to my eyes. I know deep down that dream was real. The depression and negativity I harbored only fed the devil, which I figured out what he gravitates towards. I saw Hell that night in a matter of seconds, minutes, but it was enough to where I feared sin. I realize our guardian angels are always fighting off demons, constantly protecting us against the invisible evil. Just because we don't see doesn't mean it's not there, lurking in the shadows for a weak soul. Just as Jesus keeps His promises, so does the devil. On my sixteenth birthday, I nearly slipped in the shower, but I felt something had caught me and kept me from falling and suddenly I am reminded of that night, how the devil wished me dead. Always remain in the light of God, even on your darkest days and despair is knocking at your door, pray to St. Michael the Arch angel to shove the devil back down to the pits of hell, because, after all, God loves us and calls out to us all, even on our meanest and darkest of days, He gave us angels to show us the light, even if it's the billionth time.
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