A fat snow flake drifted lazily down through the dark and landed on the freshly carved marble angel’s wing. In front of the grave marker stood Mary in a long black winter coat. A bottle in one hand, a gun in the other. She poured some of the amber liquid in the bottle onto the freshly fallen snow at her feet. She was a plain woman, with unruly brunette hair, and amber eyes. She stumbled and leaned on the angel.

“Fuck you, for dying without me.”

Her voice carried in the empty graveyard. She looked around and laughed. She took another drink from the bottle.

“I can fix that, can’t I?”

She waved the gun at the statue and stumbled backwards, barely catching her balance. She put the gun to her head and began to squeeze the trigger.

“Excuse me, ma’am.” The voice sounded hesitant, yet somehow firm.

Mary stumbled again her gun-hand lowered. She looked around for the source of the interruption.

“Can’t you see I’m trying to kill myself here?”

Her raised voice echoed through the graveyard.

“I know, ma’am, I was hoping: may we talk first?”

“Jesus Christ show yourself!”

Mary waved her gun around herself. A slip of a girl in a black taffeta and lace dress stepped out from behind a granite grave marker. Her hair looked pitch black. Her skin was sickly white in the light of the full moon. Her lips tinged blue. Dark lines of fluid ran down her cheeks from her eyes.

“Please ma’am, do not use his name like that.”

The girl’s voice was firm now. She had an odd accent.

“What are you supposed to be the ghost of Christmas something or other?”

The gun leveled at the pale young girl. The girl didn’t flinch as Mary had expected.

“I am not spirito. I am flesh.”

“Well go home emo-kid, your parents are probably worried.”

Mary waved her gun in the direction of the entrance of the graveyard.

“Once we have finished speaking I will leave you to your business, ma’am.”

“You talk weird.”

The little girl smiled slightly at that and moved further out of the shadows.

“English was not my first language, ma’am.”

“You look like you’re thirteen what the hell are you doing in a grave yard at this time of night? Are you some sort of goth-vampire-death-worshiping kid?”

“I assure you ma’am, Hell has nothing to do with my presence.”

The girl’s hand rose to a silver crucifix that hung around her next and fingered it gently. She looked up at the sky.

“So, you’re some sort of angel then? Come to save me from myself?”

“I am not an angel ma’am. Nor am I an ‘emo’ ‘goth’ kid.”

“Are you death come to collect me?”

“No Ma’am, I have no claim over your soul.”

“Okay let’s start with your name kid.”

“My name is Maria, ma’am.”

“Hi Maria.”

“Greetings to you as well.”

“Well get this over with so I can get on with it.”

“Ma’am, Mary, God wants you to live. He wants your unborn child to live.”

The gun was pointed at Maria’s face now. Maria was within arms reach of Mary by now.

“How the fuck do you know I’m pregnant, and how the fuck do you know my name?”

“Ma’am, please watch your language. I find it quite offensive.”

“Are you insane? I have a gun pointed at your face and you’re telling me not to swear?”

“You will not shoot me, ma’am.”

The girl stroked her silver crucifix again.

“How do you know that?”

“The same way I know, your name is Mary, and that you are carrying an unborn daughter. You were right I was sent here to speak to you, but I am not an angel, nor am I a holy messenger. I do believe God would not want you to die like this. Steven would not want this either.”

Maria motioned to the grave stone.

“How do you know what Steven would want?”

“I am afraid I cannot tell you that ma’am. You will have to have faith.”

“I can’t do this alone!”

“You don’t have to ma’am, just ask God for help, that is all you need to do. Pray.”

“Pray, pray, Steven’s parents prayed, his whole church prayed and where did it get him?”

Mary pointed at Steven’s grave with her gun.

“It was his time.”

“Bullshit, I told them to pull the plug!”

“You simply asked them to leave it in Gods hands. It was his time to pass on.”

“That’s supposed to make me feel better? When is my time? Why can’t I pick it?”

“It is your choice to make Ma’am, but consider, God needs you here and she needs you here.”

Marie reached out and touched Mary’s abdomen with her deathly pale hand. Mary could see the blue in the fingernails.

“Bullshit. God is bullshit.”

“God is not, ma’am.”

For the first time Maria’s voice was tinged with anger.

“Sorry.”

“Do you think when you die you will be with Steven again?”

“No, when you die, that’s it. Food for worms.”

“No ma’am, death is not the end. It is the beginning. Whether you move on, or not.”

“More of your religious crap.”

“I know it to be true ma’am. I see things you cannot.”

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“So, you’re crazy.”

“No, I wish it were so ma’am, I have seen such terrible things.”

Maria’s eyes clouded she touched her crucifix again.

“You really have seen terrible things, haven’t you?”

“Yes ma’am, it is my gift and my burden. My gift means I can help people like you, so I bear the burden with joy.”

“How can you be so full of joy and hope, you look like you are dying.”

“God is with me ma’am, I do not carry my burden alone.”

“God doesn’t exist kid.”

“God exists in everything, and in everyone.”

“Whatever.”

“You have been baptized, you spent thirteen years in Catholic school, you went to church every Sunday until you were sixteen. Did you hear nothing, ma’am? Feel nothing?”

“How do you know all this?”

“I told you ma’am, I cannot tell you.”

“God told you I suppose?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Well whatever it is, I listened to your evangelical spiel, you can go home now.”

“Are you going to kill yourself and your unborn daughter over your pride, ma’am? Is it that hard to ask for help?”

“Guess I’m a sinner till the end.”

“All you have to do is ask God to help you ma’am. If you need a sign, I am that sign. Why else would I be here at this time of night just as you were about to pull the trigger?”

“I don’t know.”

“Tell me about Steven, Ma’am, what was he like?”

“He was perfect. Well okay he wasn’t perfect, but he was perfect for me. We fit together like puzzle pieces. When I was with him it was like I was wearing comfortable old clothes that just belong on me. The universe doesn’t seem right without him.”

“Would he want you to hurt yourself over him?”

“No, he would want me to move on, he asked me to move on.”

Mary’s tears began to drop into the snow below her.

“Give me the gun ma’am. You do not really want to do this.”

Maria held out her hand palm up, she looked Mary in the eyes. Mary put the gun in Maria’s palm. Maria crushed the barrel of the gun and dropped it in the snow.

“What the fuck, how did you do that?”

“It is part my curse, ma’am.”

“Curse? You can crush metal with your bare hands and it’s a curse? Why did you bother talking to me? You could have just ripped it out of my hand?”

“You are the one who has to choose to live ma’am. I could stop you by force or call the police, and then once you were released you could just do this all over again.”

“Angels call the police?”

“I am not an Angel, ma’am.”

“Says you, who can crush guns with your bare hands.”

“I am a monster ma’am, not an angel.”

“You practically have a halo. I don’t have to have be religious to see you have a sanctity about you.”

“Ma’am it does not matter what I am, what matters is you, and your unborn daughter.”

“It matters to me. You appear out of nowhere preaching God’s word like I should care. Tell me my life matters. Tell me what you are!”

“I am a dead thing, a cursed thing.”

“Cursed? You speak of God as if he’s with you. How can you say that and say you’re cursed at the same time?”

“God is with everyone, ma’am, even the damned.”

“If you’re so damned, why do you care if I live or die? Are you trying to redeem yourself or something, earn your wings back?”

“Ma’am, I cannot be redeemed. I will spend an eternity here out of his grace, and then I will go into oblivion when I die. I will never see heaven. It does not mean I cannot help others find his grace.”

“You are suffering like this, and you still speak like God is with you?”

“I am not suffering ma’am, God is helping me carry my burden. He can help with yours, you just have to ask him.”

“What, say hey God, help me out here?”

“Mary fall to your knees, reach your hands out and pray, he will hear.”

Mary looked in Maria’s eyes, then fell to her knees and looked to the sky. Maria pressed her hands against Mary’s cheeks. Mary flinched at the frigid contact. Maria’s hands had no warmth in them.

“God hear her prayer, let her suffering be mine.”

Then the worry that creased Mary’s face evaporated and her eyes opened wide.

Maria released Mary’s face, blood seeped from her hands and she fell to the ground on her hands and knees. Maria screamed into the night, it was a primal noise, the sound a soul makes when it is in pain.

Mary approached Maria putting a hand on her cheek. Maria flinched away. Mary stumbled backwards when she caught a glimpse of fangs. She looked at the thick fluid on her hand, it had been blood running from Maria’s eyes.

Mary pressed her back against Steven’s grave marker. The bottle fell from her hand smashing against the marble base.

“God help me.” Mary whispered.

Maria screamed again her cracking voice echoing off the church walls. Maria’s fists were clinched her knees were hidden by the snow. Maria looked to the sky. Mary had a full view of Maria’s fangs. Mary ran.

Some time later Maria pulled herself up from the snow using a grave marker for support. She looked to the sky again her hand reached to her silver crucifix.

“Thank you, father, for helping her.”

“You are the one that helped her.” A male voice came from behind Maria.

“No Steven, she helped herself with God’s assistance I was just his vessel.”

Maria turned looking up at the flicking spirit.

“That was what was holding you here, Sir, you can go now to be with the father.”

“Thank you for not telling her about me.”

“You asked me not to sir. I would not betray your trust.”

“You’re older than either of us, you have such power, why do you treat us with such respect?”

“Respect and politeness are owed to everyone sir. Now go, find peace in his embrace.”

Steven reached out to touch her cheek.

“I wish I could help you.”

“I know sir, but you cannot. Thank you, I am blessed to have been able to help you save two lives.”

Maria touched her silver crucifix. She closed her eyes and when she opened them, Steven was gone.

Maria washed her hands and face with the snow. Leaving a pink mess over Steven’s grave. She made her way across the graveyard. Snow began to fall with renewed vigor. Maria touched her silver crucifix again.

“Thank you.”

She pushed her way through the locked gates, it was easy for a woman as small as her. She saw another shimmer out of the corner of her eye. She frowned. The ghost was a young girl in a yellow dress and was bouncing a ball on the sidewalk. It looked rather odd as there was half a foot of snow it was passing through.

“You aren’t half as good as you pretend to be puke-face”

“And it was shaping up to be such a wonderful evening. Hello Ethel.”

“God will help you, just ask. Hah. Didn’t help me, or you, did he?”

“Our uncles were just exercising their free will, their choices were awful, but God gave everyone free will to do good or ill.”

“God this, god that, blah. You’re like a broken record since you woke up after blowing up your uncle’s house. I mean you were always obnoxiously polite, but now you’re a goodie-goodie.”

Ethel continued to bounce her ball off the sidewalk. Maria caught the ghostly ball. Ethel looked up at her with a pout.

“Ethel, he can help you if you are willing, but you are not willing to forgive your uncle, so you cannot forgive yourself. You will never move on.”

“What if I want to stay here? Gimme my ball back.”

Ethel stomped her foot, and began to struggle with Maria, trying to pull the ball out of her hand. Marie released the ghostly ball when she heard the crunch of steps behind her. She turned and watched Father Michael’s approach. He was a balding man whose hair had long since gone grey and thin.

“What are you doing out here at this time of night Maria, with no coat? You’ll catch your death of cold.”

Ethel laughed and poked Maria in the back.

“You’ve been dead longer than me.”

Maria squirmed and swatted Ethel away.

“Shush you”

“What was that Maria?”

Father Michael drew closer.

“Nothing Father. Just a memory best left forgotten.”

“Hey, I can hear you, you know!”

Ethel threw her ball at the back of Maria’s head. Maria flinched.

“Are you alright Maria?”

“I am fine father. I just needed some fresh air.”

“Well you should be wearing a coat. Here take mine.”

Father Michael pulled off his heavy winter coat and Maria pushed it away.

“Thank you but I do not need it Father Michael. Please keep it. Why are you out so late?”

“Mrs. Fortura is at the hospital her family asked me to come to them.”

Maria touched her silver crucifix.

“I am fine Father Michael. I will head back to my room. I hope you can bring some peace to them.”

“Alright, be careful.”

Father Michael walked towards his car. Maria walked onwards.

Behind Maria Ethel laughed.

“Peace? Hah, Peace is a lie.”

Ethel bounced her ball off the back of Maria’s head again. Maria clinched her fists.

“Ethel Davenport, if you do not stop that I swear to God I will… I will…”

“You’ll what little Miss Saint?”

“I will bind you to a rock and throw you in the lake where your uncle dumped your body!”

Ethel clutched her ball tightly and fell to her knees she started to sob. Maria kneeled beside Ethel putting her hand on the girl’s shoulder.

“I am sorry Ethel, I did not mean that, I would never do that.”

Ethel spoke through her sobs, her voice broken by them.”

“You promise, you swear to God?”

“I swear to God. I would never do such an evil thing.”

Ethel sniffled some more and rubbed her nose with her sleeve.

“I forgive you. You shouldn’t be so mean!”

“You should not throw balls at people’s heads and you should not interrupt them. Neither is nice, nor polite.”

Maria stood up and dusted her knees and offered her hand to Ethel who took it. Ethel pulled herself up and began bouncing her ball again.

“I should confess I have not since my Uncle…”

Maria heard Ethel cackle from behind her, she would love to describe it as anything else mentally, but it was indeed a cackle.

“You, confess, is there enough time in a night? Let’s just add destroy a priest’s faith to your list of accomplishments”

Maria turned to Ethel, her fists clenched.

“Would you kindly be silent!”

“Oh, oh, big scary necromancer vampire is getting mad.”

Maria lowered her voice.

“You could try the patience of a saint, Ethel.”

“I’m bored”

“I do not care if you are bored. Go pester someone else!”

“But you’re my only friend”

Ethel pouted.

“Surely you speak to other Spirito when you are not with me.”

“No they’re mean! Like you’re starting to get.”

“I am not trying to be mean Ethel, but you are being an obnoxious brat tonight.”

“You don’t even know what to tonight is!”

Ethel threw her ball and hit Maria right between the eyes. Maria rubbed her nose gingerly. She might be dead, but the pain was still real.

“Today is your birthday, I know Ethel.”

“And you wasted half the night saving some stranger instead of being with me.”

Maria rolled her eyes.

“Ethel, all life is important.”

“So, I’m dead, so I’m not important? You’re dead too!”

“Ethel, you need to understand, I cannot dedicate all my time to you. We have been over this.”

Ethel began to cry again and ran off through the graveyard fence. Maria looked to the sky touching her crucifix.

“God, grant me patience.”

Maria ran at the fence and jumped over it and walked into the misty darkness of the graveyard.