The stories of guardian angels aren't exactly true, aren't exactly based on myth and aren't remotely anything resembling an angel in the slightest. See the word is originally Greek, meaning messenger which is what they used to be. They'd tell us news from other angels, spreading whatever they liked across the world without us even realising what they were doing.
Dreams, we call them, or intrusive thoughts. You know, the ones that tell you to drive your car into a wall or cut off your fingers with nearby scissors? That'll be your guardian angel fucking with you. I suppose if you found yourself inexplicably tied to a chimp you'd eventually get bored and try to trick it into doing something to amuse you. At least, the nicer ones do.
There are a few angels who do everything they can to get rid of their human, bouncing from baby to baby in an attempt to get free from us all and failing every time. Sudden cot death, they call it, not understanding how or why but thinking in the back of their heads that the poor little dear's with the angels now, up in heaven. Quite a grim thought really.
Some people are lucky enough to have angels who don't care for them, who don't bother them aside from the occasional weird dream. Some people are just so damn fortunate to be so absolutely, utterly average that they skim through life with their angels distracted by everything else around them. Like having a flower on your windowsill and it remembering it until you see it shrivelled up to nothing because you never watered it.
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