The Picture of Love

         “Crying isn’t a sign of weakness.” My pencil stilled in my hand, as I looked up at my counselor. “Nice to see that got your attention, Skye,” Mrs. Wyse smiled.

         “That was a rather interesting statement,” I replied, my eyes going back to the paper in front of me. I let my pencil move, again.

         “Skye,” she sighed. “What are you drawing?” My lips curled into a small smile, but my eyes didn’t leave the paper as I gave a one-shouldered shrug. “You don’t know or you don’t want to tell me?” She asked pleasantly.

         I sighed; she wasn’t going to leave me alone. “I’m not drawing anything in particular,” I said. “I’m merely letting my pencil move as it wishes.” It was a lie. I was drawing her. I let my attention slip once again to the paper, determined not to be interrupted.

         “Skye, your teachers are worried.” A ghost of a smile flitted across my lips. I knew it. “Your grades are slipping, you daydream all class, and you’re always drawing instead of doing your assignments; this has to stop,” Mrs. Wyse said. I wanted to laugh, but I remained focused on her.

         “Skye, I understand that what happened last month hit you hard,” Mrs. Wyse continued. I froze. “It would be hard for any student to handle, but you must move on, find some friends and…”

         “And if I chose not to?” I snapped. She looked at me, wide-eyed. “You know nothing. You didn’t know her, and you sure as hell don’t know me.” The bell rang, and I focused on reigning in my anger. I schooled my face into a cheerful mask and mimicked the same fake smile she had given me. “I just need to be left alone.” I grabbed my bag from by the door and quickly walked out of the room ignoring the pricks behind my eyes.

         I kept my eyes focused on the picture in front of me, silently thanking the chilly October wind that kept the playground empty. My pencil was tucked behind my ear as I looked over my work. I smiled. I never thought that I’d be able to capture her well enough on paper, but I had. My smile turned to laughter. I couldn’t wait to give it to her. I knew she was going to love her present. She had always been so proud of my drawings.

         “Skye! Can I see it please?” The little girl at my feet begged. I laughed at her enthusiasm.

         “Angel, it’s not that great,” I laughed, shaking my head at her.

         “Aw. Come on, Skye! Please?” She begged. She widened her bright green eyes.

         I groaned shaking my finger at her. “Puppy dog eyes are not allowed young lady,” I scolded her, but I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.

         “So are you going to show me, Skye?” She asked pulling herself unto the bench. We both knew that I had lost this battle.

         “I guess I don’t have a choice,” I sighed dramatically and winked at her. I flipped open my folder and handed her the drawing.

         “Wow, Skye, this is amazing!” She gushed. I laughed, ecstatic that she liked it. “It looks exactly the same,” she said staring out at the playground and then back to my drawing. “I really like this one, Skye,” she smiled up at me.

         “Then it’s yours, kid,” I ruffled her hair.

          “Really Skye? Thank you!” I couldn’t help but laugh as she squeezed me in a hug.

         “If you loved the picture of the playground, then you’re really going to love this one, kid,” I chuckled, thinking of the first picture I had ever given her. It became a habit after that to give her pictures, surprising her with ones of flowers or birds. She had always wondered why I wouldn’t draw people. “I never thought I could, kid, but I had to draw you perfectly, just once,” I sighed and brushed my finger tip over the girl’s smile. I couldn’t think of a moment when she wasn’t smiling.

         “Kid, why do you smile so much?” I asked her one day.

         “Why wouldn’t I smile?” She tilted her head to the side, and I laughed at how clueless she looked.

         “Your legs,” I said shrugging my shoulders. Angel blinked at me and then stared down at the tight metal braces on her legs. “Don’t you wish you could run around like the rest of them?” I nodded my head towards the playground. I couldn’t believe it, when she started laughing at me.

         “I wouldn’t have met you if I could run around, Skye,” she giggled. I stared at her for a second before reaching over and ruffling her hair, laughing as she pouted at me.

         “You always knew how to make me smile, kid,” I said to the picture, once again brushing my fingers over it. I stopped at the girl’s legs and sighed. Time to finish it, I thought. I laid the paper down and reached for the pencil behind my ear, just as the wind picked up, again.

         “No!” I cried in panic. I jumped to reach it, but it floated just in front of my finger tips. I chased after it, running straight through traffic. I ignored car horns as I dashed through the streets trying to keep up. I had to catch it. I couldn’t lose her again.

         “Yo..You’re Skye, right?” I glanced up at the man in front of me. I vaguely recognized him, but I let my eyes wander away.

         “Yes I’m Skye,” I said slowly, bringing my eyes back to him. I was looking for Angel. She was always here by this time, and she always sat next to me.

         “Angel talked about you a lot,” he smiled at me. That explains where I knew him; he was Angel’s brother. He brought her to the park and had talked to me a few times. “She always loved the pictures you gave her,” he continued. “I bought her this wooden box that she kept them in.”

         “Yeah,” I grinned. “She gets really excited when I show her my new ones, but where is she?” My grin faded as I noticed the tears in his eyes. “Is she back in the hospital? Maybe I’ll take some pictures by to cheer her up,” my voice cracked as he shook his head.

         He laid a wooden box in my lap. “I think she would want you to have these back,” he whispered. I couldn’t open it; I couldn’t move at all. “The funeral is Friday. You don’t have to come, but I thought you should know.”

         I sat frozen, unable to answer as he walked away. I clutched the box tight to my chest. “Angel,” I whispered.

         I forced myself to run faster. I needed to get it back, but my hopes were crushed as the wind picked up and blew it out of sight. It was then that I noticed where I’d chased it to, the cemetery.

         Where did it go? I turned in circles searching both the sky and ground, but it didn’t matter; I had lost it. I had to tell her that I lost her present. I kept my head down and trudged forward.

         I started shaking as I approached her headstone. I looked up, and my heart stopped. This can’t be. “Angel?” I chocked. There atop her own grave sat Angel, with the same bright smile that had followed me since the day she died.

         “I like this one, Skye,” she said softly, holding up the picture. The one I’d lost, the one of her. I sank to my knees clutching my chest, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her. “Skye, aren’t you glad to see me?” I flinched as she started limping towards me.

         “You’re dead,” I whispered. “You’re dead!” I yelled at her.

         Her smile never wavered. “Did you forget me?”

         “How could I?” I chocked. “You’ve haunted me since the day you died.” I buried my head in my hands and tried to control the shaking. “I can’t forget you, kid,” I whispered. “You’re the only one who cared about me. You were my little sister, my everything.”

         “Then I’m not dead, Skye,” she giggled. “You keep me alive.” I couldn’t stop shaking as she hugged me, and I couldn’t help but squeeze her back. “Don’t worry, Skye. I won’t leave you ever,” she whispered. I could feel her tears on my neck, and I felt my own building.

         “How?” I whispered, shaking my head. I stiffened as I felt something soft wrap around us. I looked down at her and she laughed at me. She untangled herself and spread her white wings out.

         “He said that I can be yours, Skye. Isn’t that great?” She asked excitedly.

         I stared at her, but I couldn’t stop the smile that spread. I never could around her. “So Angel is my angel?” I asked. “How fitting.” I held my arms out, and she crawled back into them.

         “Here.” She pressed the picture into my hands. “I want you to keep it, and I want you to take all the others too.”

         “But Angel they’re yours,” I told her, trying to hand it back. It hurt when she refused it and shook her head at me.

         “I can always see them now,” she said. “You need to share them with everyone else. Make someone else as happy as you made me.” She locked eyes with me, and I hesitantly nodded. I stood up as she did; it was time for her to go.

         “Hmm… I have something new to add to that picture,” I told her looking it over, which reminded me. “Angel your legs.”

         “What about them?” She looked down to her metal braces and then back up to me.

         “Well I thought that since you’re an angel that maybe your legs…” I trailed off. She tilted her head to the side and then her eyes lit up.

         “He offered to let me be able to run,” she told me “but I told him no.” She started laughing.

         “But why?” I pressed.

         “I told you before, Skye.” She smiled up at me. “If I didn’t have these braces I would have never met you.” I stared after her as she flew into the sky, the soft whoosh of air caressing me as I watched her fade. I smiled and shook my head. I bent down, grabbed the box full of drawings, and headed for home.

         “Done.” I leaned back smiling, while trying to ignore the burning behind my eyes. I stared at the small girl with a bright smile, metal braces, and angel wings. I carefully pinned it above my bed. “My guardian angel,” I forced a shaky laugh. I tried to stop the building tears. I tried to stop the spasms, but I couldn’t hold them back anymore. The wall broke as everything I’d felt since she died broke through, and I couldn’t stop what happened next; I cried.

Crying isn’t a sign of weakness. It is a sign of love.