I couldn't wait for this day to come. I was hoping uncle John would come to me, or maybe my great grandpa who fought in World War 2. Or maybe even a relative from thousands of years ago who could bestow their ancient wisdom upon me.

Instead, I got a rock.

Willie the Cross-Eyed Rock was a good friend of mine when I was a toddler. I think I still have his remains around here somewhere, but I have my doubts about his abilities as a spirit guide.

"Is this some sort of paranormal joke I don't understand?" I asked Willie.

"..." he replied.

His googly eyes seemed to stare past my physical form and into my soul. It made me feel uneasy. Exposed. Vulnerable. Is this how everyone feels when they turn 16?

"Are you going to say anything? Give me any life advice? Anything at all?" I ask, feeling progressively more insane about talking to a semi-translucent stone.

"..." continued Willie.

"Okay, never mind," I said. "I could really use some help though. I have no idea what I want to do with my life after I graduate. I have no idea how to talk to girls. I want to get into a good college, but precalc is kicking my ass. Greg and Josh are probably going to go to MIT and I'll never see them again. I was really, really hoping my guide would come and help me figure these things out, but all I get is a rock! This is so unfair!"

"..." Willie said.

I threw myself onto my bed and let out an exasperated sigh. "I guess I'll just figure it all out on my own."

"!!!" said Willie.

I felt a calm energy calling me from the other side of the room. Something was compelling me to pick Willie up. I rolled out of bed and walked towards my dresser where Willie sat on a stack of textbooks.

"!!! !!!"

I picked him up and placed him in the palm of my hand. Immediately upon picking him up, I'm filled with serenity. My eyes meet his googly eyes, and memories of being a little kid, playing in the woods, riding bikes, jumping out of swings, and playing hide-and-seek come back to me as if I just lived through them. Tears streamed down my smiling face. I continued to look into his plastic, lifeless eyes, and visions of me going to college, falling in love, getting married and having kids poured into my mind.

"Are these real?" I said, trying to prevent more tears from escaping.

"..." said Willie.

"I guess I'll never get a straight answer out of you, will I?" I said.

I didn't know if Willie the Cross-Eyed Rock could see the future, but after that I couldn't help but feel like things would work out. I put Willie down on my nightstand and laid back down in my bed.

"Thanks Willie," I said. "Goodnight."

"..." said Willie.

"What? Why are you so surprised"?

"You are telling me that you are Miss Pebbles? Jeez I was bad at coming up with names". Andy said as he stares at the spirit.

"Why yes! I also like you to know that I really do love the name you gave me"! The spirit spoke as it floats around Andy.

"Do rocks even have souls"? Being so baffled at the thought. "I never heard of someone having a rock spirit"!

"Well only when one is given a name. Plus they only become your guide if they were properly taken cared of". Pebbles folded their arms as it sits in the air.

"The only reason I took such good care of the rock was because my mom told me that if I could take care of a rock so well that she would let me have a living pet of my own". Andy then stopped, looking at the spirit as he felt like the truth would hurt its feelings.

Pebbles tilted it's head as it looks at him. "Why yes I know, I was there. I must say, buttercup was a very pretty kitty". The spirit giggled as it looks over at the broken parts of the rock. "All that for you to get a kitten. I must say, I trained you well".

"You aren't mad"? He stood up and walks over to the pieces. Picking one up.

"I'm very proud of you. You grew up to be a very fine young man. I'm looking forward to being your spirit guide". Pebbles would smile and give him a hug.

I knew who my spirit guide would be by the time came.

There were only two I had ever lost, both within the past year. One was likely to become a guide for her own family, so that left my grandmother. The one family member I missed once she was gone. The one I wished I had known more, rather than less.

Even as I looked forward to the stories she would tell, to the things I’d have the chance to say, I was terrified. I wanted to know her more. But what if I ended up feeling the opposite? Or worse, I revealed myself to be a total mess not worthy of anything better than the rest of my family, the shit ones?

I knew one thing for sure. When the day came and I turned sixteen, I had to be alone.

So here I was at midnight, sitting out on the old swing in our backyard. My favorite escape-place. Eyes resting on the knots of one of our trees, shaped to look like a face. If I stared at the tree I wouldn’t have to make eye contact with her right away, not until I was ready.

But - oh god - my thoughts began to churn.

I had kept my mind forcefully silent all day in anticipation, knowing my own anxieties. But unexpected thoughts rolled in that I didn’t have a prepared defense against. After all, a spirit guide can be anyone and anything. Dead pets. That one bird you used to feed. And trees are alive, right? What’s to say this tree isn’t the spirit guide?

And if the tree is the spirit guide then you’ll truly have nothing and no one, because trees can’t speak. They can’t stay by your side or float in ghostly human form chatting and offering advice. They’re trees.

But it might well be it. Heck, I should give up now, this is certain. It must be. When have I ever confided in grandma? I barely got to see her. There was so much I didn’t know about her, she didn’t know about me. And she was so kind to so many people, the chances of her being my spirit guide are so low. This tree is in my favorite escape-place. It’s listened to countless songs and rants, sat next to me as I watched the road and listened to the crickets at night. Sat next to me as I cried, terrified to go back inside. I’m still terrified to go inside. Every time I leave the house I want to stay away, I don’t want to go home again. But there’s nowhere for me to go, no one who will listen. Fuck, my own spirit guide is probably just this stupid tree because I think it looks like it has a face on it.

The grass crunched. I froze.

Someone’s here. And it’s not the damn tree, the tree isn’t moving, which probably means someone’s come out to see my spirit guide. Even this moment I can’t be alone.

Unless.

Don’t hope. But unless.

I turned around on the swing, and my breath caught in my throat.

There she was.

Grandma welcomed me into her arms, and I could breathe again.

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