The beginning

I was only thirteen when I watched my mother die.

    She had been battling a mysterious illness that doctors couldn't pinpoint. They forced her to take chemo, treating it like cancer. And I was there for all of it.

    My father hadn't been a part of my life in a long time, leaving when I was just a baby. And I wish I could say it was great between my mother and I but I'd be lying.

    Moher had gotten on to me many times, screaming that I deserved to be place in the loony bin because I came to her each time I saw an angel walking next to a person. She thought it was cute at first, since I first started telling her about them when I was six.

    Seven years later though, I still told her about them, and about six months ago, she put me on a medication that "helped" the things I saw.

    I lied though, stating that there were no angels, which seemed to make Mother happy. Throughout this though, she got sicker, and sicker, huge bruises covering her entire body, and the left side of her face.

    The cops were called multiple times, thinking my mother's husband or boyfriend were abusing her, but they were always left astounded and afraid that it was just my mother being sick that made her look this way.

     She was a walking corpse.

     I stayed more at the hospital than at home, watching over my mother as she slept, or struggled to eat food. The medicine they gave her helped numb the pain, but didn't help her get better. The nurses that stayed to watch over he would give me pitying looks as they talked in hushed whispers about what was going to happen to me.

    Mother never spoke of her family, but I'm pretty sure her parents were both deceased, her being an only child. And the family shunned her, since she had me before she could wed, so of course they wouldn't want to help a bastard's child.

    I'd be alone when mother passed.

    I sit in the plastic chair in mother's room, squeezing a crayon. An angel stands next to the bed, placing a hand on my mother's shoulder. I've asked the angel numerous times why she hadn't taken my mother, and it had ignored me, always whispering words to mom. Mom is unconcious, or asleep, I can't remember what the doctor had told the nurse, and there were many machines that were placed all on mother, helping her to stay alive. Her face is puffy and bloated, a side effect from the chemo that never helped her, the little bit of her chestnut curls falling into her pillow.

      Despite it all, that's not what I'm wondering; I wondered if the angel had been praying to her.

      I've been in this room many times with mother, always feeling the sense of death looming closer and closer. This time though, something feels...off. The atmosphere of the room was heavy, and hopeful, and I watched as the angel dipped it's hands in the center of my mother's stomach, slowly pulling up. A golden orb appeared then, and I shielded my eyes, as the light was so bright.

     A sudden sense of warmth, and light filled the room, though it soon began to leave, the room feeling colder and emptier.

     The angel directed it towards the ceiling, and the orb moved with its guidance, passing through the ceiling.

     She was gone.

     I could hear the monitor that kept pace with her heart flatline, and many doctors and nurses rushed in, ushering me out of the door. All the noise and commotion scared me though, and I cried, feeling small and helpless.

    I knew they wouldn't be able to get her back though. Her angel was gone, one of the tell tale signs that they were no longer needed.

   I was ushered out of the room by one of the nurse's I had befriended, her name being Tammy. Tammy had orange curly hair that she kept tied in a small bun at the nape of her neck, green eyes so green, the color of grass always came to mind when she stared at me. She had tan skin, with freckles on her face and nose, a smile always at hand to put the patients at ease.

    Even in her green scrubs, you could see she was slim.

    Tammy walked me to the lobby, sitting me down as she sat across from me. She stared down at her hands, before looking up at me, my tears still running down my cheeks.

    "My daughter Sabrina is coming here to pick you up, Josie. You can stay with me until we figure out something out, okay?" she said, and at her words, more tears continued down my face.

     Mother was gone and I was truly alone.

    Tammy reached over and hugged me, telling me that there would be a solution to all of this. I buried my face on the side of her neck, crying, my crayon falling out of my clenched hands.

    I could still feel the prescence of her angel though, and though I didn't have an angel of my own to comfort me, I felt a little bit better that it was there too with Tammy.

    I heard Tammy's name being called out then, and she let go of me, kissing my forehead, before running back down the hallway. Her angel followed her, a hand on Tammy's shoulder.

     I stared at the floor then wondering what in the world was going to happen to me now. I had no family to live with, my father had vanished off the face of the earth, and mother was gone. More than likely I'd be placed with a family so they could figure out what to do with me in the meantime.

    My stomach was in knots; the horrors of foster care were ones I'd read about and I could feel my heart begin to beat faster. Panic had a tight grip on my throat, and I could feel my breathing become more troubled.

    A tap on my shoulder made me jump up, and a girl that looked a lot like Tammy stared down at me, the only thing different being was her hair being a light brown. She looked sad, and she held out her hand to me.

    "I'm Sabrina, and I'm here to take you to my house." she said calmly. I wiped my face, embarassed, and took her hand with my other one.

     "I'm Josie. And...thank you." I replied, getting up and following her out. We said nothing, my eyes watching Sabrina's angel from the corner of my eyes.

     It must be nice to not be alone.