Love is a Death Trap (First in the Series)

~ 18 ~

Dear Mom,

I was shopping separately from the girls, searching individually for accessories to go with my dress. I ended up finding a little gold lily clip to pin in my hair, as well as a small gold charm bracelet. As I was leaving the store, I glanced around, trying to remember what direction my car was in. That's when I saw a shaking little shape behind a bench. I cocked an eyebrow and approached the little thing, getting down on one knee. I was saddened at what I saw.

There, sitting behind the bench was a little girl, maybe five or six, crying quietly. Who knew how long she'd been there. What disgusted me was the fact that no one had already tried to help her. I plastered a soft smile onto my face and spoke gently to her.

"Hello there," I whispered, so as not to startle her. She turned towards me, tears dripping down her cheeks. There was something about her face that was vaguely familiar... maybe I'd seen her in passing before.

"Who are you?" she squeaked, rubbing one of her sleeves roughly across her cheek. My smile faltered. I ignored her question.

"Why are you crying?" I questioned her back, setting my bag down beside me as I sat down. She sniffled and her bottom lip pouted out.

"I-I lost m-m-my dad-dy," she whimpered, starting to cry again. I hesitated before reaching out and rubbing her back, trying to calm her down a little bit.

"Hey, it's okay. I can help you find him if you want," I offered. She looked back at me with sparkling, teary eyes.

"Okay," she replied, crawling out from under the bench.

The little girl and I searched around the outlets for about half an hour before she gasped in delight.

"Daddy!" she yelped, running towards a man that I felt I had also seen before. The man sighed in relief and bent down, opening his arms. She ran into them full speed, crumpling against his chest.

"This nice girl helped me to find you," the little girl said sweetly, pointing to me. He turned to me with a smile before his face went slack with shock.

"Anne-Marcie?" he whispered and I froze. What a crappy coincidence. It was his voice that tipped me off. I dropped my bags and tried with all of my might not to laugh or scream or cry.

"I never thought I'd see you again. I'd hoped I'd never see you again," I said back to him, looking away. I bent down to grab my bags before looking back to his pained expression. "But I guess it's nice we got to say good-bye. Farewell... father."

I never wanted to see him again,

Anne-Marcie May