My Angel

It has taken me days to open up the door. I would walk to it, fully prepared for what was there, what was always there, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to my daughter again; her smiling face, her golden hair, it was all too much. But today, I did it. I don’t know how but I stepped inside and it was like she was still there. Her hand grasped in mine. I could feel her beside me like she was telling me it was all right.
I saw her bed; roughly made for another school that day that never came. Her makeup was spilled across her desk, her clothes strewn across the floor. My heart felt numb. No matter how many times I had told her, she’d always leave her clothes crumpled in a heap on the floor. I wanted to cry but I’ve wasted all my tears. I miss her so much. She was my baby, my angel. I remember walking over to her bookshelf. I smiled as I read some of the titles, “The Cat in the Hat”, “If I had a sheep,” I remember how we would sit in that little pink rocking chair, its folds warn and I would read to her. She would make me stop at every single page, just so she could see the pictures. As I took one out, another fell to the floor. A sign I should have never taken myself upon. I picked it up. A journal of azure textures and gold hews. The guilt of looking into Alexa’s private thoughts didn’t even occur to me. If I could have stopped myself then, I would have.
“It will never change. No matter how many times we try to tell her, show her, she’ll never learn. I don’t want to go into detail since it’s still clear in my mind, but it has to do with a new computer, it’s plastic covering and tears that should have never been shed during an ‘almost’ wonderful Christmas Eve.” I paused. The shock finally settling in and leaving me cold like a far away flame, though it’s embers still burned deep. We had our battles and I know I should have been more accepting of who she was but now, there’s no way of ever taking it back. My hands shuck and the pain in my heart seemed to grow.
“My baby! Where is my Baby?” I screamed. “I want her back! Give her back, please!”
That’s when the tears came back, and they wouldn’t stop. I couldn’t stop, and in a way, I don’t think I wanted to.
I turned away and looked towards the window with the cheap black Ivy green shades. There was nothing left. I was empty and alone. These questions running through my head won’t ever be answered, and I can’t help but think, “Why couldn’t it have been me?” “Why, after all this time, had God decided to destroy me from the inside out?” “What did I ever do to deserve this? Haven’t I been good?”
I don’t want to think anymore. I just want to drown myself in a bottle of hard tequila and drive until I fall off a cliff somewhere, so the sea can wash my body away. But no matter how tempting that sounds, I know I could never do it. She wouldn’t want me to. She’d want me to live my life to the fullest, no matter how hard it would be. I’ve convinced myself that she is watching over me from somewhere up above; somewhere I cannot reach just yet. I will always love her. I will always miss her. I will never forget her. My little angle.