She glazed down, her head still hurt from all the tears. Her heart even more. She could barely see through those teary eyes, but she had to. She needed to, or else how would she ever understand. That amount of grief above anything else deserved an explanation.
With blurred sight, she was able to see it – the end of her little world, lying on the cold hard floor. She reached for it, almost too hesitant to actually stretch and grab it. She was reaching for it like a child that’s giving another go at a flame that just burnt her tiny fingers. painfully She picked it up.
The note was clearly made out of his own handwriting. There was no mistaking the awkward way he shaped his letter G or the fact that the salutation stated “Hello love,” he loved to call her that. It had to be him, it was him. But why?
A part of her wanted to go over it again, but emotions run too deep when she remembered how every word pierced sharply through her soul like turning in a bed of needles. She was now scared. It was all fresh in her mind, her feelings and one look at that awkward letter G made her knees weak and sent her to the floor. Crying, it was a storm in a sea of tears. The vivid recollection of that torment scared her. Her little self couldn’t bare the agony again, at least not yet.
To Be Continued…