The sun awoke from its nightly bed, rising and reaching its streaking fingers out towards the stained glass that made up my window. The glass was the finest in the entire county; I'd selected it carefully. My mind was empty at the time, but the glass caught my eye, and heart. Now, as it sits in my window, I find that I cannot live without it; it is my guardian angel, the beacon of light in a world full of darkness and death. It's my hope, my life and dream...sitting tranquilly above my head to watch over me, as I sleep at night. I am forever grateful for it. The pokémon is curious within its self, so full of mystery with its half star-shaped head and small aquatic colored body. I would be nothing without it. The sun beaming through the window and the light reached my eyes, slowly waking me, like the touch of a loving mother’s hand. I sat upright, stretching my body with a gaping yawn. I hopped up and stumbled on my fresh legs, then stood straight up and headed for the creaky steps. I gradually made my way down the steps and made it to the bottom, welcomed by the smell of eggs and sausage being fried and flipped by my dad (which wasn’t the most refreshing smell). I sat down on the old chair and waited for my dad to come in with his infamous eggs and sausage and greet me. I waited for about 5 minutes until he came in swearing underneath his breath because he had burned the sausage and he put too much pepper in the eggs. “Mornin’,” I said cheerily, hoping that his ever-constant temperamental mood wouldn‘t mind. “Eggs and sausages again?” “Just shut yer yap and eat yer breakfast! You should be grateful you have somethin’ to eat. Anyways, yer gonna need yer strength today: emotionally and physically.” He said while dropping the plate of food on the table with a thud, almost spilling the food onto me. I don’t know what he meant by “emotionally”, but I sure did need my strength physically because I had to help my dad on the boat today. After I had finished I went upstairs to go change into my work clothes. In the middle of my changing I heard my dad scream, “Erika, are you done yet? We gots ta leave!” “Almost! I just need to--.” “Well, hurry up!” I hurriedly slipped into my overalls and raced down the stairs. My father stood at the base of the steps, arms folded and his foot tapping impatiently. “Alright,” I sighed. “I’m ready.” “Seriously, you’re 11-years-old and still slower than yer little ole’ granny.” I rolled my eyes at the remark and we headed out the door. We stepped out the door and headed out into the world of a bright, vivid sun and blue, red, yellow flowers painted the scenery flowers. It was an impeccable day. We walked off the cement path into the cold sand. My foot went into the sand and the coldness of the sand soothed the humidity that sunk deep into the air. We were almost half-way to the deck when the most embarrassing thing happened. There was driftwood everywhere around in the sand, but one of them was very large and was above the ground, but I didn't see it. Not looking were I was going, I tripped over the wood and fell into the foam of the ocean, and it was as cold as ice, seemingly freezing my face. I bet you can imagine how my dad laughed at me, and I could understand why, I was even laughing at myself; not like my dad though. He was calling me "stupid",“idiot" and utmost, "grandmother". I still laughed at myself as if I was actually agreeing with my father. A few seconds passed and the laughter had silenced into the ocean. As we walked down the sandy path, the wind lightly caressed my and the pliable waves were splashing upon my feet and creating a mist in the air. For once I felt a peace with the world that hadn‘t felt in a while and I wished it would never end. But it did with the rudest matter. When we got to the place where we were supposed to turn to the dock, we didn’t. “Why didn’t we turn?” I asked, but my dad replied with his grip tightening on my arm. “Dad, stop! You’re hurting me!” I said trying to unloosen his grip. “Shush yerself, another word and I’ll--” His words silenced as tall, gruesome looking man appeared before us. “So,” He began. His voice was deep, scary and monotonous. I took a step back, until I was lunged forward by my father. “Are you going to keep your promise? You know I need some good help.” “A deal’s a deal. I don’t need this ole’ brat ‘round me anyhows.” He said sharply, like a knife being prodded into my heart. I couldn’t comprehend what was happening. I gazed into the mans’ face absent-mindedly as I was shoved into his arms. I thought I heard my father say “Have fun!”, but I didn’t care. I was already missing my guardian angel.