Letters from an Angel

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A little girl gives her life for her dysfunctional family.
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Author's note:

I did not expect I was going to post my short stories on this site. They tend to be tragic, and Letters from an angel is no exception.

It's strange, I want my short stories to be powerful enough to punch someone in the gut. They probably aren't, not yet, but I'm quite sure that there's a glimmer of profoundness in each one of them. At least that what I tell myself.

I want to make you think when you read this. Write your thoughts in the comments. Gift your insights and perhaps even personal experiences to me and anyone else who reads this.

Voting is something I leave up to you, but I will say that if you enjoyed it, then giving it a good score will make it likely for others to find something you found worth your time. It can be your little gift to a random stranger. And with that, the world becomes a slightly better place.

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Letters from an angel

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Theodore felt twice his eighty years as he straightened the papers in his hands again. He couldn't get started. Words balled up in his throat and died in his mouth. For once nobody in his family hounded him. None of them wanted his task right now. He looked down at the letters in his hand, at the awkward handwriting. Nina, you silly little girl. I wish you were still here.

No more stalling now. Theodore scraped his throat and kept scraping it until every single person in the room was looking at him. Their eyes and expressions told him many things, and each gave him the determination he needed to go on. "Dearest family, I never thought this day would come. Today I bury my grandchild, my little Nina."

He had to stop and close his eyes to keep his grief inside. "She was a treasure that none of us took for its worth. She was misunderstood, overlooked. But she wasn't stupid. Not by a long shot. The ten years she lived taught her more than I ever wished for her to know. If only she was playing with dolls now, or running in the park. If only that had been her life."

He looked around the room and saw his own sadness reflected back at him. But it was shallow, his words and accusations annoyed too many. That would change soon. He took a deep breath and let it back out. Calm down. "A few hours after I heard Nina died, I found a packet of letters, written by her. She knew where I go when I'm sad, so she left it there."

His calm broke, and he brought his hand to his eyes, but failed to hold back his tears. Let them see, maybe they'd listen more carefully. "She wrote six letters. One to all of us, and one to me, Elias, Ian, Lene and Hanna. She wanted everyone to hear each letter, so I'll read them out loud."

His daughter Lene jumped up and said, "Why didn't you say anything? We've got a right to know this kind of thing! She didn't even leave us a scrap of paper, and you've kept this from us? Theodore, you give me those letters right now!"

"Shut up, Lene! And sit down. This is not the time!"

For the first time in years, Theodore saw his daughter swayed by his words. She sat back down in her seat, but didn't stop glaring at him.

"Does anybody else have a problem?"

His anger still hadn't faded. He might be an old man that wasted his life on drink, but he'd found his self-respect in his old age. Nobody would steal it from him now. Nobody spoke up.

"Thank you. And Lene, I'm sorry that I kept quiet. Nina wanted everyone to hear her letters, this was the only way to make sure."

"It's alright, Theodore."

"Please don't call me that today. You're my daughter, not a stranger."

The corner of Lene's mouth pulled, and she said "Don't push it."

"I won't mention it again. Excuse me for the delay, I'll read the first letter now."

All eyes were on him. Wherever you are, Nina, I hope this is what you wished for.

'To Daddy, Elias, Grandpa, Hanna and Mommy.

I put the names like the alphabet because I didn't want you to fight over who goes first. I like all of you.

I'm sorry I did a bad thing, and that I've been bad for a long time. I don't always know why, but if you get angry at me then I did something wrong, right? I won't do anything bad anymore, so you don't need to be mad anymore. Maybe now you'll be happy with each other.

Maybe Grandpa can come to the house, and Elias and Hanna will be nicer to him. Mommy should be nicer to her Daddy too. Maybe Mommy and Daddy will stop fighting if I'm not there, being bad.

Grandpa took me swimming once. It was in a pond with birds and big, big trees with leaves all the way down to the water. Grandpa said it was always quiet there and that only the birds quarreled. I didn't understand that word, but he said it means that only birds can fight there. So you should all go live there, in the trees with the birds. They fight, but they do it with singing. They don't hurt each other, and they don't say mean things.

Grandpa will know where it is.

Please go there, I want you to happy.

NINA.'

Theodore's breath was shallow after he finished the letter. It took everything he had to keep himself from breaking down.

He knew the place. He remembered her in her yellow bathing suit with the cutest fringe around the middle. She'd complained she was a big girl and she wanted a big girl bikini. He'd told her that since it still fit, maybe she wasn't that big after all. The memory took his breath away, and he gritted his teeth to fight it off.

"Why are you all she talks about? Tell me, Theodore." Lene's voice had lost its edge, she sat slumped in her chair and stared at nothing.

Theodore watched and felt for her, she was Nina's mother after all. Of course it hurt to be such a small part of her daughter's world. "I don't know. Whenever she came over, I played with her, took her places. I'm her grandfather."

"You played with her. Took her places." Lene looked up at her father. Her face showed a grotesque mixture of sadness and anger. Her tears flowed through the wrinkles in her contorted face.

"You never treated me like you did her. You were too drunk. Or hung over, or busy."

"I've changed, Lene. I've apologized so many times." Lene's accusation drained more of his limited strength, he had to lean on the lectern to stay standing.

"I never accepted your apology. But I let you see my daughter because I believed you'd made an effort. You have no idea what it was like for me to see you with her. She looked just like me, Theodore. I was seeing myself play. I couldn't stand it."

Theodore stretched out his hand toward Lene. "Lene, I-"

"Keep going."

"I-"

"I'm not doing this."

Theodore sighed and nodded more to himself than any other. He picked up the letters and took hold of the one he'd just read. He didn't want to pick it up, didn't want to fold it, didn't want to touch it. His eyes clouded and his eyesight got even worse, but still he read the next letter. Nina wanted him to. "The next letter is addressed to Ian. Please, listen very carefully to what Nina wrote."

Ian sat with his arms crossed and his face frozen. But Theodore knew him well enough to see how hard he pressed his lips together and how his hands gripped his shirt. He didn't like Ian. His former son-in-law reminded him too much of how he used to be. But for now he would let that go, today and every coming day Ian would be a father who had lived too long. Just like he was a grandfather that outlived his youngest grandchild.

'Daddy,

I know you don't love me like I love you, but that's ok, I love you anyway.

Even when you get angry at me, I still love you. I try to do better. But I don't think I ever did good enough.

I don't like it when you drink so much. I don't understand what you say, and I always have to clean up your bottles or you get angry again. You always talk about Mommy when you're on the couch, and I don't know if you like her or not. Please like Mommy and go back home. Your apartment is dirty and the other people are scary, I don't want to go there anymore.'

Theodore stopped. Nina had scratched out something. He held the letter closer and deciphered the word. It was her name in neat capital letters, just like they taught her at school. The rest of the letter was written with a different ballpoint.

"What is it?"

Hearing Ian's gruff voice surprised Theodore. His former son in law had uncrossed his arms and was now squeezing his knees hard enough to turn his knuckles white. His foot wouldn't stop tapping the ground. Theodore wondered if Ian wanted to run away. He knew he wanted to. "Nina scratched out her name here and wrote the rest of the letter at a different time. I don't know why."

"Keep reading then."

Theodore held the letter out to Ian. "It's for you."

"What?" The incessant tapping stopped.

"The rest is addressed to you. You're supposed to read it out loud yourself."

Ian's calm facade evaporated. He didn't want to touch the paper, let alone read what was on it. He hesitated for so long that Theodore walked up to him and dropped the letter on his lap. "Read it. It's the last thing you can do for her."

Ian snatched it up and tore the paper because he held it too tightly. Theodore put his hand on Ian's shoulder and said, "You can do it, Ian."

"Shut up. Just give me a second."

He released his death grip and straightened the paper before he cleared his throat and started reading.

'Daddy,

I won't be here anymore. I'll go somewhere else, a nice place where the people are good to me. I love you, but I love Grandpa more and Grandpa said he was sick and that he was going away soon. I want to be with Grandpa. I know where he's going to. He wants to be in a place for nice people.

Daddy, I love you, but you're not nice. You're mean to me, and you're mean about Mommy. You should tell her that you're sorry.

Say I'm sorry Grandpa. You always shouted at him when he came for me. You shouldn't do that, Daddy. It's mean.

Say I'm sorry Elias and Hanna. You were mean to them too.

Say I'm sorry Mommy.

Say I'll stop drinking. I'll clean up the apartment.

Say I want to go home.

Say I love you Mommy, I love you Elias, I love you Hanna, I love you Grandpa.

Say all of that and then you can go home and try to be nice. If you're really nice, then you can come see Grandpa and me in the place for nice people.

NINA'

Ian cried into his hands. His tears soaked through the paper scrunched up against his face. The room was silent but for Ian's sobs. Nina had written so much of what they all wanted to say that there was nothing left.

Ian got up, the letter nothing more than a smudged wad in his fist. He turned around and everyone in the room was struck with wonder. Gone was the violent, unreasonable drunk. Before them stood a man that had nothing but guilt. His rigid body was a cry for help. He struggled with getting even a single word out of his throat.

But in time it came. "I... I'm sorry. I want to go home. I hate drinking. I hate where I live. I hate you for leaving me, Lene. I hate you kids for growing up into shits and not coming over. And you, old man, I hate you for doing what I can't. I want to stop. Every day I want it to end, but there's nothing for me out there. My family doesn't want me. But I want to go home. I really do."

He stood there, waiting for someone to respond. Nothing came. The steps back to his seat were hard. He thought to himself that if nobody said a word, he would move to another city. Start over. But it wasn't to be.

Lene's voice halted him. "It's not that easy, Ian. Say those words to us again in six months if you have the balls. Show us you can clean up your shit. Then we can see."

Ian huffed and looked over his shoulder at his ex-wife. "You always had a sharp tongue, Lene."

"Shut up and sit down. You've heard what you need to."

Despite everything Ian managed a little smile. Maybe there was hope. A gift from his daughter to her worthless father.

Theodore made his way back to the lectern and picked up the next letter. He wouldn't make it to the last one at the rate this was going. "Is it ok with all of you if I sit down?"

He got a few nods and pulled a chair from the side of the platform. "This letter is for Elias."

Elias had been slumped in his seat, but now he straightened up. He was the eldest child, but that only meant a six-year gap. Theodore wondered what he was thinking.

'Elias,

You're my brother, so I love you. But you're mean. You sit there on your chair in your room and when you go out you shout at me and Hanna. You say you'll hurt us if we don't stop it. I don't understand.

Hanna says you need angry management. I don't know those words but if she says it will help, then you should do it. Hanna is smart. I'm sorry, you're smart too, I didn't want to be mean or anything.

If you're nice then maybe we can go outside and play. I like it when you play with me. But it's been so long ago, I don't really remember. We used to go to the park and play tag or soccer. You are so good at soccer. Even if that was the only game you wanted to play, it would be fun.

You were never mean then. You smiled and tickled me. Please go back, I want my old brother.'

Theodore held out the letter to Elias, but the boy didn't move. He seemed lost. "Elias, come get your letter."

Without a word of protest Elias got up and took the paper from Theodore's hand. Theodore pointed at the lectern and said, "Go stand there and read us your bit. Don't wait too long, it'll only make it harder."

Elias started reading, but he spoke too soft for anyone to hear. Theodore got up and walked behind the boy so he could put his hands on his shoulders. "Read a little louder, son. You can do it. Be strong."

Elias nodded and leaned on Theodore. He took strength from the touch.

'Elias,

I'm sorry I made you angry so many times. I'm sorry I stopped talking to you, but I was scared you would beat me again. Hanna was scared too. But I couldn't go to her. And Mommy was never home. Daddy was away.

When it was just you and me at home again, I was really scared I would do something to make you mad. But I know you're not like that. You were the best brother.

I have to go with Grandpa now, but I hope that when you come see us you will be my happy brother again. We can play games and watch movies together. It will be so much fun.

So please, do your best with the angry management. Be nice. Don't hurt anybody anymore.

NINA'

Elias's shoulders shook in Theodore's hands. He turned around and buried his face in Theodore's wool sweater. Theodore didn't mind standing there for minutes on end. Elias was just a child. He didn't understand the world around him. Theodore knew more than enough about Elias to know it wasn't his fault he turned out the way he was. He stroked the boy's head and said, "Are you going to be alright, son?"

"Grandpa, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, it's not your fault."

"I hurt Nina."

"We all make mistakes. Some are truly our fault, others are made because we don't know any better. Tell me, did you ever try to hurt Nina?"

Elias hid his face again, but Theodore could still make out his nod. "You have? And do you regret it now?"

Another nod.

"Then you know what you should do, don't you?"

The boy's tight squeeze hurt his old body, but he didn't let it bother him. He'd lost one grandchild, but he would save the others from themselves.

"Do what your little sister asked you to. Try to be a nice brother again, you still have a sister left."

"Yes, Grandpa."

Theodore pushed Elias back a little and looked him in the eye. "Don't do it for me."

He put his hand over the boy's chest. "Do it for you."

Then he turned the boy around. "Do it for all the people in our family. Go sit with them now, they're all here. They all saw you read that letter. They all know what you really want. So go, it'll be fine."

Elias looked back once and then hurried over to his seat. Lene wrapped her arm around him and he cried once more. Theodore saw his daughter with her son and wondered how long it had been since she'd held him. Since he'd let her hold him.

Little Nina had been a smart girl, much more than she realized. He sat back down in his chair and took the next letter. This one was meant for him. He held his hand in front of him. It trembled two, maybe even three times as much as it usually did.

He did not want to read another letter.

But he had to. "This one is for me."

'Grandpa,

I love you Grandpa, I don't want you to go and leave me alone.

I know where you're going and I'm going with you.

You'll tell me stories and we'll go everywhere to swim and play games. It'll be fun. There'll be nice people and if we wait long enough, Mommy and Daddy will come over. Elias and Hanna too.

We'll be together again, and all the nice people will be our friends.

So don't be sad, Grandpa. I know you miss Grandma, and you want everyone to be nicer to you, but it's ok. You and me will go away and everyone will come when they're ready.

I really wanted to do it here, but now that you're going away, I have to hurry.

I really love you, Grandpa. You're the best Grandpa!

NINA'

Theodore opened his mouth, but no more words came out. The best grandpa. He could see her little face in front of him, telling her she loved him and then charming him with her smile. How she could run and jump when they went out for walks. How she stared at him when he told her a scary story and hopped in her seat when a twist surprised her.

I love you grandpa. It was too much for him. The letters fell out of his hand, and he hid his face in his sleeve.

He couldn't hold back for a second longer. He cried like a little baby, powerless to stop it on his own. Why did he drink his liver into failure? Was this his final punishment? He should never have told her he was sick. Instead, he should've left. He would've, had he known. But he couldn't leave behind the one member of his family that still cared for him. And now she had left him behind. "I can't go on. It's too much. Please, somebody else. Anybody. There's only two left, read them. I can't anymore."

A hand on his head distracted him from his grief. He looked up and saw Lene standing in front of him. Her cheeks were wet, and they glistened in the light of the candles. But her expression was soft, just like her mother's had been. "Thank you, dad. Because of you she had someone."

She turned and walked away without saying another word. Theodore touched the spot where Lene's hand had been. It was only a little sign, but it had been enough. He got up from his chair, there was still more to do. He grunted when he stooped to pick up the papers. It took some time to put them back in order, and when he finished he sought out Hanna. "This one's yours."

'Hanna,

I think you're very pretty, like a princess. But to me you're an evil queen.

You're my sister, and I want to be friends so we can talk about things, but you don't like me. I don't know why. You take away my things and hide them. You use the toys Mommy gives me even if you have the same thing. You pinch me and tease me and laugh at me when I ask for you to stop. Mommy never believes when I tell, so I don't say anything anymore.

I don't like it when you're mean. I want you to be nicer.

We could have so much fun. You could tell me why you sometimes cry at night, and I would listen. We could go shop for toys together, so we have different toys, and you can play with yours and I can play with mine.

I want to like you again and call you Sis.'

Theodore looked up from his letter and saw that Hanna had paled. She didn't have to look to the side to know that her mother was staring at her. Lene rose from her seat, but Theodore stopped her. "Lene, stop. Not now, you can talk about it later."

He turned towards Hanna and held out her letter. "Come and take it, it's your turn to read."

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