The Forget Me Nots

Chapter Two

Amelia,

My darling Amelia, how I love you so. I know your Dad is stubborn, and he probably won't let Wes back in the house, but if anyone can convince him otherwise, I know it'll be you. You always had a special place in his heart. The day you were born, he'd taken one look at you, and I just knew he'd just found the love of his life.

By now, I'm guessing that you've seen the garden. I made it for you, my love. I'm not going here to be here very soon, and I wanted to leave you something to remember me by. If everything went as planned, then Wes already showed you your room.

Baby, know that I love you. Get out of the house and go to the market in the morning, look around, familiarize yourself with the people again. Breathe. It'll do you some good. I know that walking in the house again must have been hard for you, and for that, I am so proud of you my baby girl.

I know you won't want Wes inside the house love, but I thought it would be better for your dad if he had a helping hand around, so he'll likely be dropping by every so often.

It pains me to know that you and your dad are without me, but you must be strong. Be strong, like I know you are.

I love you so much.

And no matter for how long, my heart will always be with you. I will always watch over you and your dad from above, and just remember that if you ever feel lonely, look up into the skies at night, and wave at the stars.

For I will be waving at you below.

I love you my child, my baby, my Amelia.

~*~

Amelia cried. Amelia cried, and cried, until she couldn't anymore, her lungs almost collapsing but the tears just kept coming. She clutched the letter to her chest like it was the only thing that was keeping her alive as she fell to her knees on the ground. Her mother was gone. She was never coming back. It was all her brain kept telling her, a broken disc on an endless loop that kept on repeating until all that was left of her was a sobbing mess on the floor.

Time passed, completely meaningless to her. It could have been years, or just a handful of minutes before her dad opened the door once more and found her on the carpet. He seemed lost, not exactly scared, but after a moment of indecision, he did the only thing he knew how to: Henry laid down next to her, wrapping her in his arms and hugging her against his chest.

Just like her mom used to.

But that was the night before. Now, it was morning and the sun was up, warming her skin and eyes. She looked up at the ceiling, the fan blades moving softly through the air. She had missed that yesterday, too caught up in everything else. Taking a deep breath through her nose, she let it out through her mouth, concentrating on the expulsion of her lungs rather than the dull ache in her chest. Her throat hurt, her mouth felt like sandpaper and everything was stuck to her skin, a sheen of sweat damp against the sheets. Her joints clicked as she sat up, and she groaned, holding her head between her hands.

If this is how a hangover feels like she thought, I am never getting drunk.

Looking over, she saw a glass of water on her nightstand and two small pills beside it. Her dad must have put them there after carrying her to bed. She vaguely recalled a set of strong arms under her, a soft murmur of comfort and quick steps to and from the door before she fell asleep.

She smiled in spite of herself and downed the pills dry, grimacing at the bitter taste, then chasing them down with the water. The curtains hid most of the sunlight from the room, but the clarity of the morning still shown in. Tossing the duvet aside, Amelia got up and gingerly paced across the room, opening the only drawer she'd bothered placing in some clothes in.