A letter was found on her mother’s front door two months ago today. It told of the man she’d met and fallen in love with, and how she’d run away to be with him. ‘His eyes are brown, his hands are strong, and his heart is good.’ She had said.
How could she do this? Her mother had cried.
Just wish them luck, love, and happiness, her sister asked, with a tear in her eye and her sister’s picture in hand.
Father and brother said nary a word. Wars raged within their hearts. Angry that someone had stolen her away, sad that she was gone, and grudgingly glad she was with someone that she loved.
All she left behind stays in its place. The stuffed toy on her bed, the books on the shelf, a ring from the day she graduated, all a sad reminder of the child they’d lost. The car in the drive, the cattle in the pasture, and the horse out in the pen, were left behind for another’s use.
‘One day I shall come back and perhaps in yours hearts, me you can forgive.’ Such was the message she had left.
“Come home whenever you can”, was the answer her sister tried to send. But the phone was never answered. Emails were left to no reply.
No one would ever know what had become of their laughing baby, sister and friend. Family and friends will ever hear from her again.
The man she loved and lived for, the one she went off to meet, grows weary at the gates. Planes come and go, but one passenger has yet to show. It is the beautiful girl he loves and longs for. With a ring in his pocket, and worry in his heart, he waits and waits for her to come.
She is still a part of all their lives, but only as a lasting memory. Her words will never grace their ears; her face will never pleasure their eyes. And her touch no one shall ever feel.
For she is gone. A victim to the night. Her story is untold. How she died is unknown. A sad ending, to the short life of a child in love.
Well, what do you think of the story?