Loving Angel

•·.·'5'·.·•

The room was beautiful. I felt like the girl from Mothers book, the one with a pretty dress and room. The only difference was that I wasn't pretty.

Elias had dropped me off and left. A few seconds ago Mateo gave me some clean clothes to wear. After years of having the same pair of clothes my brothers we're letting me have another T-shirt that also reached my knees and shorts that were a few inches above my ankles. I was happy.

Even if it was boy clothes. Mother had always given me boy things. She said I wasn't pretty enough to have girl things. It hurt because I use to so badly want to dress like the girls from her books. Like her. As the years went by I stopped asking for girly things. Even now though, I still hope one day I get pretty enough to wear dresses and girl shoes.

Finally standing up from the bed I went into the bathroom and showered. The soaps were just white but smelled nice. When I got out I was excited to put on my new clothes. The shorts were big but they worked. I put on the long socks my brother had also brought me.

(Pretend underwear don't exist because I can't think of a good explanation to write about her undergarments)

My new clothes we're so comfortable.

Walking out of the bathroom I noticed a vanity.

How did I miss such pretty thing.

Running to it I saw something that made my eye widen.

A hair brush.

Oh my goodness. Picking it up carefully my fingers traced over it. Sitting down in the vanity. I looked at my hair in the mirror then brought the brush to my head.

I felt pretty.

The moment was short lived. The brushing stopped as I looked closely at what I saw in the mirror. The hairbrush fell from my hand, to my lap and onto the fluffy carpet.

My ugly eyes stare at my reflection.

I didn't like what I saw. I didn't like how I looked just now. I felt disgusting. My Mother just died and here I was smiling at myself brushing my hair when I know I don't deserve it.

Loving my brothers when they haven't even had me for a whole day. This is how disgusting I was. You love me once and i'll love you forever.

If you can even call it love. Most of the time is just kindness, and my stupid self thinks is love.

After hours from my Mothers death I cried. I lied to myself I was crying because of her passing, but in truth I also cried because of the fact that I had actually loved her.

That I had loved a woman with all I had when she never gave me an ounce of hers. It ripped me from the inside out. Knowing I could love people blindly, in seconds. That I was willing to let myself get used, hurt by them, just to be loved.

That's what I would always look for, to be loved, but in the end It was always all in vain, because i've never been loved.

That's the truth. Due to my desire for that I've become someone who's afraid of being left alone. That's my biggest fear.

I'll never be able to share love with anyone.

My only hope is that I don't end up alone. I've been for way too long, and i'm tired of it.

In that moment as I cried silently I realized I was never going to be able to keep up the act. I wasn't build for this. To be someone lovely. To be who Mother wished for me to be.

All I had left was my will to not be alone. As long as my brothers don't throw me out I'll be fine.

So please don't leave me all alone, that's all I ask for. I won't ask for a bit of your hearts anymore.