this is a bit more sentimental, but still sweet and i think some people may like it. BTW, the story isnt about some girl with a suicide wish, it revolves around that fact, but the story in itself is based on a more tender aspect of life. more later, if you want. happy reading! xoxo angie
Dana
My girl... Arie looked so sweet, her face calm for once, her glossy brunette curls messily lying on the pillow.
She looked like she had before... well, before all that.
A small strangled-sounding choke sounded, and it took me a few seconds to realize it came from my throat. Hastily, I bit back the tears that threatened to overwhelm me.
The friendly-looking nurse leaned over me, her name-plate (Hi! My name is Janice. How may I help you?) flashing briefly in the light of the single lamp that illuminated my baby's face.
"She might be able to hear you, you know." The nurse's voice was cheerful and light in despite of the fact that my world had almost come to an end a few days ago.
"The anaesthetic should have worn off about fifteen minutes ago."
I blinked wearily. "Okay then." My voice was worn away with the sorrow that only a mother truly knows. "Thanks."
The nurse smiled, then moved away, humming snatches of an all too familiar "Favorite Things".
"Arie loved that song." I blurted out, my voice sharper than I had intended. It took me a few seconds to realize I was speaking in past tense.
Janice stopped suddenly, and looked sympathetically into my eyes. "I'm sorry." her voice was full of understanding and pity, apologizing for so many things more than the song; things that no-one; least of all her, could change.
Janice walked off quickly, switching tunes to Titanic.
A abrupt silence filled the empty air. I remembered what Janice had said before walking off.
"Um, well.." I fiddled with the clasp of my bag. Years of talking to the press and crowds of people did not prepare me for the eventuality when I would have to stage a conversation with my daughter, a victim of attempted suicide.
"I.. I'm sorry." Yes, that was it. The words flowed easily now. "I'm sorry i wasn't there for you Arie. I'm sorry that I never listened. I guess I deserve this, but you don't sweetheart. I know I don't deserve you, but I swear I'll do anything to keep you Arie. Come back to me." The last words came out frantically. "Come back and we can make everything better."
The doors to the ward opened with a crash, and Michael strode in, eyes masterful and sorrowful.
I scrambled up, glad he had not witnessed my confessions.
"Dana."
"Mike... I" my voice faltered.
He sat down beside me, eyes speaking for him worlds of words that went unspoken, and suddenly, I felt so much more secure, like the old times, when we had just married and we hadn't a care in the world.
I rested gently at my husband's shoulder, and for the first time in seven years, I began to cry and didn't know when I could stop.
