Rain poured heavily that night, soaking the narrow asphalt road on the outskirts of town. Rosye walked alone, her hands trembling from the cold and exhaustion. She had run away from home two days ago, carrying only a small backpack filled with a few clothes and an old notebook.
Under the dim glow of a streetlamp, she paused for a moment and sat on a worn wooden bench. Inside her heart, the voice echoed again.
"No one cares about you. What's the point of living?"
The voice was cold and certain, as if patiently waiting for her to give up. The pouring rain seemed to mirror the turmoil inside her.
She continued walking aimlessly and stopped on an old bridge, staring down at the river below. The current rushed furiously, roaring like it was calling her to end everything. Her hands shook as she gripped the iron railing. Her eyes were swollen, and the voices in her head grew louder, urging her to jump.
"There's no point in all of this…" she murmured. "It's better if I end it here."
As she began climbing over the railing, a voice stopped her.
"Are you sure this is the best way out?"
Rosye turned quickly. Beneath the shadow of the streetlight stood a calm-faced man, wearing a long coat soaked by the rain. His eyes were warm, yet deep—like he knew everything.
"Who are you? Stay out of this!" Rosye snapped.
"I'm just someone who happened to pass by," he replied."You look like you need someone to talk to."
"Don't come any closer!" she shouted.
But the man didn't back away. In a calm voice, he asked,
"I just want to know—why do you want to give up?"
Rosye stayed silent. She turned her face away as tears flowed endlessly.
"No one cares. My life is a mess. I'm just a burden to everyone."
"I'm here to help," he said, offering his hand gently. "Come with me. I know a place that's safer."
Though hesitant at first, something in his voice and eyes convinced her to follow.
The man brought Rosye to a small house in the middle of the city. The place was simple and seemed long-abandoned, but it felt warm. Inside, there was an old guitar resting against the wall, a table cluttered with books, and a soft couch.
"Who are you really?" Rosye asked cautiously.
"Just call me Serafim," the man said, handing her a towel and preparing a warm drink.
"You're safe here. You can stay as long as you need to think things through."
Rosye didn't answer. She simply hugged her knees on the couch, not ready to share anything yet.
Days passed. Rosye slowly began to feel more at ease in the house, though she still hadn't opened up to Serafim. One night, she picked up the old guitar and strummed a few chords. The melody was uneven and quiet, but enough to break the silence.
Serafim watched her from the kitchen. After a while, he walked over and sat on the chair beside her.
"That guitar belonged to Daniel. He used to live here."
"Daniel?" Rosye asked.
Serafim nodded. "He was like you. Someone who felt like his life no longer had meaning."
He shared a bit about Daniel—how he had lost hope, felt alone, and eventually gave in to despair.
Rosye listened silently, her heart struck by Daniel's story. It felt like a mirror, reflecting everything she had tried to ignore.
"Do you have a dream?" Serafim asked gently.
"Um… I'm not sure," she said slowly. "But since I was little, I've wanted to be an architect."
"What is it about being an architect?" Serafim asked with interest.
"It's the image of what I want—someone free to build things on their own. Someone who's responsible for the foundation they create," she answered, her head bowed.
"That's beautiful," Serafim said. "You still have choices, Rosye. You can choose a different path."
The next day, Rosye began to open up. She started trying to fix her life and reignite her dream of becoming an architect. She searched for scholarship opportunities to make it happen. Whenever she felt hopeless, Serafim was always there—to help, to accompany her, to guide her when she felt lost.
When the day for her scholarship exam finally came, she was terrified. But Serafim told her,
"You've come this far. What's still holding you back? You're not alone."
A smile spread across Rosye's face when she learned she had passed. She earned a full scholarship to a prestigious university for architecture. She also got a part-time job at a café. For the first time, she felt like she had control over her life.
One night, as she went out to buy food, she felt like someone was following her. Her heart pounded when she saw who it was—her stepfather emerged from the shadows, his face twisted in anger.
"Finally found you!" he shouted, swinging a stick toward her.
Rosye tried to dodge but fell. She closed her eyes, bracing for pain. But nothing happened. When she opened her eyes, Serafim was already in front of her, shielding her.
Her stepfather backed away, confused by the strange man. Serafim said calmly,
"Leave. Now." and raised his clenched fist.
Her stepfather spat on the ground, then left in fury.
Rosye trembled. "He won't stop. He'll keep coming for me."
"It's okay. I'm here," Serafim reassured her.
"He'll kill me…" she sobbed in fear.
Serafim embraced her as she gasped for breath. Once calm, she looked at him and finally opened up. She told him the real reason she ran away.
"My stepfather wants to kill me," she said, voice shaking. "My biological dad left me when I was little, but before he went, he left an insurance policy in my name. If I die, my stepfather gets the money."
Rosye lowered her head as tears fell. "I don't want to die by his hands, but I didn't know where else to go. That's why I thought… maybe it's better if I ended it myself. Until I met you…"
Serafim gently patted her shoulder.
"I'll protect you. You're not alone, Rosye."
For the first time, she felt a bit of safety. But deep down, the fear lingered.
Months passed. As her fear began to fade, she returned from campus one day and walked down a quiet street. The streetlights flickered, creating an eerie mood. From afar, she heard the roar of an engine.
The car approached fast. Rosye realized with horror—it was her stepfather. The vehicle sped straight toward her.
She couldn't move, frozen in fear. But just as the car was about to hit her, a brilliant light appeared.
Serafim stood before her, his large, glowing wings spread wide. He shielded her from the oncoming car.
Rosye was stunned. Her eyes widened at the sight of Serafim's true form—with wings that radiated a warm, protective light.
The car screeched to a halt. Her stepfather, terrified, tried to reverse in panic. The car lost control, hit the guardrail, and plunged into a ravine.
Still in shock, Rosye sat at the roadside, gasping. She looked up at Serafim, who now stood with his wings slowly fading.
"Are you… an angel?" she asked, her voice shaking.
Serafim gave a small smile.
"I'm just someone sent to protect you. Now, the path is yours, Rosye. Keep walking."
Rosye faced her days with renewed strength and discipline, until she finally fulfilled her dream of becoming an architect. With her hands, she designed homes that brought comfort and hope to others.
Before leaving Daniel's house for the last time, she looked up at the night sky. In the stillness, she felt the shadow of wings passing overhead, as if Serafim was still watching over her from afar.
"Thank you," she whispered before closing the door.
***