-Written by Dollangangergirl. Picture above is Amberlynn.
*Amberlynn's POV*
I ran around the yard, giggling uncontrollably as I weaved in and out, avoiding the obstacles in my way!
I dared to look behind me and screamed a silly scream when I saw Mommy catching up to me! I had to do something!
So I sprinted inside and rounded a corner quickly, trying to get her off my trail. I nearly knocked over one of her favorite vases in the process.
"Oopsies!" I giggled.
Everything was a blur, except my light brown, golden highlighted hair that was flying all around me.
"Can't catch me, Mommy!" I had called, finally listening to my aching lungs and stopping for a quick second.
I scanned the room half heartedly with my bright hazel eyes. I assumed they were a mixture between my Mother's hazel eyes, which were slightly more green than mine, and my unknown Father's.
Since I was lost in thought, I didn't see the dresser at the other side of the room on the library wall. I heard something behind me so, on instinct, I started to run while looking behind me to see what it was that made the noise.
I see nothing, so I look ahead of me and try to screech to a halt, but I was moving too fast, and I bumped into the shelf.
A faded picture frame fell from the top row, too high for me to reach on my own, being only seven years old.
When the tall monstrosity stopped shaking and I was no longer afraid, I slowly bent down to pick up the photograph. My brows furrowed in confusion as I stared at the picture in the dark frame, age making some of the features unclear.
However, I clearly made out my Mother's face, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. She was smiling, a genuinely happy smile, with her arm around someone I had never known.
He looked slightly cold, but there was a light flickering in his electric blue eyes, showing at least SOME joy. His mouth was set in a straight, unwavering line. His dark brown bangs blocking the top of his eyes so I couldn't distinguish any other emotions.
It stunned me how different this man look from my Mother. Almost like complete opposites.
A wave of nostalgia washed over me as I gazed into his eyes, never moving, for they trapped me in the captured moment. Did I... know him from somewhere?
I heard my Mother fast approaching, for real this time, and I quickly set down the frame.
If I had known the image would be lost in the forgetful mind of a seven year old for years to come, I would have held onto it.
But that's not the only thing I wouldn't know at the time. That image would appear more than once in the following years. Once reminded of it, I would ask who it was. When I finally got my answer, I would regret that decision.
YOU ARE READING
Wrong Side of Heaven
HumorInnocence. Purity. Things non-existent in Hell, my home. Maybe that's why it is so strange that I, of all people, would end up with a little bundle of innocence. I am all for instinct, but I had to use my brain much more than I would have liked in...