HER

Once an Angel

I block my face from the excessive sunlight that beams through the blinds as I wake up. A sharp pain lances through my head as I slowly climb out of bed, wrapping my body with the sheets I pulled off and saunter into the bathroom.

I take a long look at myself in the mirror, my dark circles had become more prominent but I really can't do anything about it right now.
I spent about fifty dollars on a skin Care kit and I can say its a total rip off.
Or maybe it wasn't the kit. I was told one time I needed to sleep more, but a lot of things keep me up.
I eye the pretty bottles sitting majestically on the sink, my upper lip raised as I strip off the sheet.
Sitting on the toilet, I light a cigarette and take a couple draws before I lean back, tears falling from my eyes.
I bring my hands to my face, crying into my palms like they could take it all away.
The pain and anger, buried within me
Clawing my insides.
But I'm stronger than this. I lie.

I clean my tears with one wipe, tossing the cigarette into the sink and making my way into the shower. The hot water burns my back touching my skin, and in as much as I want to scream, they come out as tears instead.
I want to scrub myself clean. Memories flood through my head and I'm afraid I might peel my skin but I refuse to stop. Maybe I'll feel better.
But I don't.
I grab my pack of smoke as I exit the bathroom, Locking the door before i curl up in a corner and light another cigarette.
My fingers find their way to another tube each time one finishes and the Chain goes on for almost an hour, till the pack is empty.

The clock strikes twelve, at the same time my stomach growls. I lay on the floor to suppress the hunger and shut my eyes. Waiting for sleep to sweep in.

A knock echoes through my room, sending me from the floor "open the door" "what do you want" I question, rubbing my eyes "can you just open the door?"  I recognize the voice "what do you want Owen" I roll my eyes, leaning with my back against the door. He let's out an irritated sigh "I just spoke to April" "Yeah?"
He sighs again "both of you would be going out today" "okay" I reply, not wanting this conversation to go any further with this man "so get ready"
I hear his footsteps as he retreats, leaving the corridor quiet once again.
For some reason I'm excited to meet April again. Just the two of us.
I take a cigarette from my drawer and burn the tip. The urge to blow a fuse overcoming me as I anticipate her arrival.

I silently pray today would be different. She seemed really nice to me before. I found everything about her comforting, especially her eyes. Like I could talk to her and she would listen. Like she could embrace me and won't judge me for anything. No matter how bad.
Maybe even feel like mom.
Its been over ten years but I still remember everything about her. She loved flowers, carnations were her favorite. Paintings of the flower were littered on the walls of my childhood room in many colors.
She was somewhat a hippie, always speaking about love. Reaching out to people to make peace not war, she could talk about it everyday. Most of her time was spent outside, under the sun and playing a guitar. Maybe painting on some days or going to the beach in her multi–colored van.

Its Sunday. We would've been at the orphanage reading the children books. I made tons of friends there.
when we get back home, we would either do some yoga or sit under the sun while I braid her long hair, putting tiny flowers in them. I got most of my looks from her. My nose, my lips, my hair. Everything. Except my eyes.
Grey, just like my dads and cold.
But her eyes, brown and warm like caramel always glittering when she looked at me. I always thought it was love.
And I was right.
Mom could do anything for me. I was her angel after all.

I was once her angel.