Why Do Angels Cry?A Chapter by BloodOfThyLoverWhy do Angels Cry?
One time he asked me, "Bena, why does rain fall when it only makes people sad? It's like tears; no one likes tears."
I'd been taken aback because Tyler was Tyler. And eight. He hadn't the capacity to think. Really really think.
I rewarded him with a smile, like the caring older sister I always was.
My fingers tugged the thick quilt up, up, up, to his pointy chin.
He regarded me seriously without smiling back.
That worried me.
So I would answer because Tyler was serious.
This made me think hard, hard, hard.
I sat down slowly on the edge of his bed and sighed. The mattress groaned and sunk underneath my weight.
"Well," I said sighing to show I too was serious as he was.
"It comes from the angels."
"Huh?" Tyler asked, scrunching his eyebrows together in a way that reminded me eerily of myself.
"The rain. It comes from the angels. They look down upon us and cry when we do something very upsetting. Understand?"
Tyler seemed to be enveloped in thought too developed for an eight year old.
Silence wrapped us up, a cozy, yet scratchy, blanket.
Thoughts, ideas, wonders, questions, swirled around me all unspoken.
I felt suddenly d i z z y.
Someone pulled the covers off.
"Gross," Tyler exclaimed too quickly, unconvincing like most guys are.
He slid further beneath the covers that ensured safety from all the monsters a third year old boy could dream up.
I kissed his forhead, clicked off the lamp, and raised from his bed.
Light greeted me as I stepped into the hallway. But before I closed his door I needed to know. Know why.
Hand on doorknob, I whispered in to him, "Why did you want to know, anyway?"
But Tyler didn't respond.
Silent message: Conversation is over. It never ever happened.
Ever.
For some reason I was okay with that.
I closed the door behind me and forgot.
Except, I didn't.
© 2010 BloodOfThyLoverAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorBloodOfThyLoverSomewhere in a place we call 'Maine'AboutDreamer. Insomniac. Blurring the lines of reality and imaginary. I spend more time fantasizing about my stories than worrying about my grades, and would rather opt for a new book than a new ph.. more..Writing
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