The Angel

She sat by the piano that now lay empty and dormant, wondering what this new path would hold for her. As she sighed and rested her fingers on the keys, she whispered, "will you come back?" Her now gray and tattered wings hung from her back and draped onto the floor like torn rags as she sadly pressed down one key after another. She stopped after a moment and hung her head.
"What am I doing? I can't play. Not like he did." The angel sighed again and pulled the cover over the keys, resting her head on the smooth surface. "It's not like playing would bring him back, anyway. I just have to keep moving forward. I have to clear my head." She slowly stood up and walked away from the piano, pressing her palm again the pane that held the secret door to her room. She didn't open it, but looked at her own reflection, the tired broken angel she had become. She closed her eyes and silently made a wish.
Her eyes opened and lit up with a small flame of resolve. She stepped away from the hidden door and returned to the glass where she could see the world outside. As she sat, she watched. "I can bring him back. I just have to hope. I have to stay strong. He is my one and I must believe he will come back." She encouraged herself as she pulled back her hair and watched the tree line with determined faith. "I can do this."