Different colored minds

The stolen treasure

ABELLE POV

I wait in the hospital room for my parents. It's getting late. I don't want to go home. If I go home, it's over, Aliana really is never coming back. She didn't get to meet my parents, even if it went horribly with my mom, we'll never know. I never had that kind of hope before Aliana. I thought I was all by myself. But now I'm not. Or... I wasn't. It's cruel having something taken away from you that you've never had before. It's cruel. The whole thing is cruel. I want to hate that kid that did this, that motherfucker that decided to play with guns, but every time I hear her voice in my ear. Forgive him. And I can't. I can't.

I can't dishonor her memory like that. That's the worst part. The worst part is how good she is... how good she was. I place my hands over my ears and disappear under the hospital blankets. I don't have people respect my gender. That's not something I'm given. Those people out there probably think it's better if I'm dead. But I'm still here.  I'm still here and I took away an angel. It's my fault. I should have jumped in the way, I should have stopped it. But I froze. It's my fault she's dead. Why couldn't he have shot one more bullet to kill me too. It's not fair, that she's gone. It's not fair. She was too young. She was doing so many good things. It's not fair. I hate this. This isn't fair. She shouldn't have been taken away. This isn't fair.
I sob and I sob and I sob. It feels like that kid with the gun reached into my heart, and crushed it. Pulverized it into tiny pieces. And I will never get it back. I'll never get it back, because she's not here. She can't be here. Because she died for me, when I should have died for her. She was stolen from me, my beautiful wonderful Aliana.

"Abel?" I hear my mom's voice from the doorway. I'm not ready, I'm not ready for this.
"Abel, baby?" I feel someone gently removing the top of the blanket.
"Baby," I can't look her in the eye.
"Abel?" My dad's voice is there too. He's standing a bit farther away than my mom. He's standing in the doorway. My lost eyes can see him from here.
He's approaching the bed.
"Baby can you talk to me?" My mom's voice is next to me now.
"Baby what do we do? How do we help you?" And I crunch further into a ball and I sob. And I sob. And I sob. There's nothing they can do, that shooter stole the only thing that means something to me. They took her.