The summer had long flown past, sweeping away the lush green scenery with it. Amelia still sat on that warehouse, jacket and scarf draped around her to shield her from the cold. Her fingers white as they held my own, putting my comfort and warmth above her, as she always did.
She visited my home for the first time, her gorgeous smile reminding my mother of the daughter that she had lost. She cherished her, asking when she would return the second she had left. Her smile lit up my home, and her laugh brought such a warmth no one would have noticed if the heater had broken.
I walked Amelia home that day, despite her insisting it was unnecessary, ten-year-olds are stubborn.
"Would you be sad if I left?" Her voice was barely audible over the heavy traffic, and her question vague. I laced my fingers through hers, craving the warmth they gave. My mind could not comprehend the meaning behind her words, only nodding with a smile. I don't think I could be this happy without you with me. Unbeknown to me, my reply was insensitive. She looked away, her smile giving out as a tear dropped onto the pavement. While my happiness swarmed through me, hers only brushed against her from time to time, allowing her to feel what she had been missing, before vanishing entirely.
YOU ARE READING
Why She Jumped
Short StoryBy the time I woke up on January 1st, 2013, Amelia Jackson was dead. Trigger Warning: Suicide Abuse Self Harm (Disclaimer; I do not own the cover image)
