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Bleeding Tears: Chapter Nine
Romance
 Created on 8-6-07
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“Jamie! Oh God no!” The angel said panicking, taking my wrist and covering them with some type of cloth, and then her left… He came back though “Oh God Jamie! Don’t die please! God don’t die!” He panicked while fixing my wounds. “The ambulance is on its way! Please hold on!” The world around began to sound muffled, before I could finish sinking, the angel swore he loves me.
I awoke in a hospital hallway heading to E.R. I felt soft cold tears on my face and the groggy feeling of floating back from the well. The tears though, cold much like the rain that fell on the day of my mother’s death. I looked up and there were nurses and doctors, and light, bright as the sun. Squinting to see faces, none came I closed and heard the angel’s voice, forcing my eyes to try again harder the angel was drying. Why though? Angels shouldn’t cry, there would be so much good things coming from my death. Why was he crying? The small voice that harassed me about my life, which drove me to my undoing today, was ringing in my ear.
“Because he loves you.”
It told me. I closed my eyes once again as I sank back into the well. I was consumed by the darkness, I thought I was dead. A shining light, small and dim…coming towards me. I walked the distance to a small light where some one was crying next to there father. He looked like my father, Richard. A 26 year old man when I was 7. His hair back then was a buzz cut. He had brunette hair though. His eyes were green and he wore leather jackets a lot. I walked closer to see it was me, when I was little. The day my mother died and I was left with my father.
“Come on Jamie! Mommy’s dead don’t you get it! She’ll never come back to you!”
“W-W-Why t-though! I-I-I d-don’t w-want to b-be left a-a- alone w-with y-y-you!”
“You’ve got no choice you little bitch.”
“No m-mommy! No w-why d-did y-you have to l-leave m-me! W-What did I-I-I do t-to get this t-time o-o-out?”
I remember that day. I thought she was punishing me for being a bad child. I didn’t know what I did. My mother loved me and was my only happiness in my life until I met Christian. The memory faded and a new image appeared. I was there again. The first night I had to leave with my father.
“D-D-Daddy pl-pl-please stop! I-I-I d-didn’t d-do a-a-anything w-w-w-wrong!”
“Don’t daddy me you little fucker! You threw away my cocaine!”
“S-Stop! I-I w-w-was t-trying t-to h-h-help l-l-like m-m-mommy did!”
The image changed again as I witnessed the first time I was ever beat. It changed to the little girl in her bedroom, crying and cutting.
"T-This is w-what I-I deserve. M-Mommy w-would have s-said so h-her self. I-I-I deserve this k-kind of p-punishment. R-Right m-m-mommy?”
The little girl looked over to a picture hand drawn; it was of me and my mother. It was made by a French painter who we met at Pearl Park. That’s where I met Christian for the first time. The memory changed to me sitting on a swing alone. There’s a little boy about my age walking up to me.
“Hello! I’m new, I just moved here. My name is Christian. What’s your name?
“J-J-Jamie.”
“That’s a pretty name!”
“T-T-Thank you.”
“Do you want to play with me on the slide?”
“S-S-Sure”
“You have a stutter problem don’t you?”
“I-I-I’m s-s-sorry.”
“Don’t be I think it’s sort of cute!”
“T-T-Thank y-y-you!”
That was the day I first made a friend and he still is. I looked at the two children playing together as it faded into a girl standing out side a building called, mentally disturbed institute. I was sent there for a year by my 4th grader teacher. She said I had a terrible stutter and I had to see the school councilor and she said I had a disturbed child hood. So they shipped me off to the mental institute for help.
“I-I-I d-don’t w-w-want t-t-to l-l-live h-here d-d-daddy.”
“Too bad, you worthless piece of shit! You’re going to live here for a whole year. So get used to it.”
“B-b-but d-d-daddy!”
My father had left by then. Leaving me alone, with out knowledge of what to do next.
I looked away, no more, no more memories my life’s gone, but where’s that bright light? I looked back in the dark ness the edges beginning to burn with light. Harming to look at the edges burned more showing the whole picture.
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