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.