Tell Me Angel, Where Are You
Then It Happened
“Johnny? Is that…is it really?”
“Adele? Oh my God, Adele. You’re my Adele Marie?”
I clumsily stayed rooted to the black tile on which I stood as my older brother embraced me in a tight hug for the first time in ages.
My tear ducts were brutally swollen at this point but the salty wet tears streamed down my face once more as I held onto him closely. My dainty feet were left dangling over the black and white linoleum floor.
“You’re alive. I can’t believe you’re alive,” murmured Johnny, into my shoulder.
I wouldn’t let go or loose my deathly firm grip for anything. Shock wasn’t even the correct word to use. All the words in the dictionaries and thesauruses couldn’t begin to distinguish this emotion that was coursing through me like a wild river. He was suppose to be six feet under by now. Yet, here he was, in the flesh, holding me close to him. I gripped onto him tighter as the hot tears continued to flow down my dace and soaked into his candy apple red shirt. He couldn’t be real. Yet, I felt his very alive heart beat thump against me, his lungs expand and withdraw within his chest. I could hear his voice, much deeper now, but still his voice.
“I thought you…you were both…both dead.” I managed to speak in between sobs as he continued to cradle me in his arms. I could hear him crying even though it was muffled by my sweatshirt. We stood there, still sharing our embrace , crying together. Together.
He sniffled loudly as he set me back down.
“Adele, God. You’re gorgeous, you’ve grown up so much, Princess,” whimpered Johnny as he took a look at me for the first time. His cold hands cupped my blazingly hot face.
“So have you, Johnny. God, I can’t believe…”
I remembered him as he was. He used to be rather on the small side and slightly chubby with pin straight brown hair. He was twelve when I though he had died. Now he stood in front of me, must be six feet tall. His icy blue-ish green eyes brightened like fire, yet froze you over at the same time, just like I remembered them. His pale skin was slightly tanner and now he had jet black hair which laid all around his head like a mop.
“It’s like looking at a fuckin’ ghost, right?” He questioned swiping at his swollen eyes.
“Yeah.” I whispered as I hugged him again and started breathing normally again.
“Oh, oh, oh.” I said as I took in a sharp breath and forcefully rubbed my eyes.
“J, this is my boyfriend, Frankie. Do you remember him?” I asked as I swiftly glided over to where Frankie was standing and pulled him into a sort of hug.
“Oh my God, Frank, kid you’ve grown! You gave her the nickname Munchkin, if I’m not mistaken.”
Frankie grinned and replied, “Yeah dude, it really is like looking at a ghost.”
“Tell me about it.”
They firmly shook hands as if they were meeting for the first time.
“Do you guys are a couple now, huh?”
“Yeah.” Frank and I replied as I continued to rub my eyes.
“Congrats,” sighed Johnny as he flashed a weak smile.
“Babe, don’t rub, here, let me.”
Frank used the sleeve of his sweatshirt, placed two gentle fingers under my chin and swiped tenderly over my eyes.
A fleeting feeling of guilt swept over me as I suddenly realized why I had come to the room in the first place.
“How’s…how’s mom?” I asked as I sniffed and walked over to the bed.
“Aid, they…they said she’s done.”
I glanced over at the bed and instantly recoiled.
“Done?”
What did he mean “done”? She wasn’t done. No, she isn’t done. She isn’t, she can’t be. I was utterly confused and I hadn’t listened carefully. He didn’t say that. Never-say-die Johnny would never say that unless…
“Adele, mom’s gone.”
“What?”
“Adele, I’m sorry. She’s…she’s gone. The nurse didn’t get you guys quick enough.”
“No, she isn’t.”
I moved closer to the bed and placed my pale hands onto the eerily white bed sheet. Both Johnny and Frankie tilted their heads and stared at me with gloomy and worried expressions tattooed to their sullen faces.
“The doc--”
“I don’t give a damn what the doctors say,” I said as I swiveled around, “She can’t die. She hasn’t even seen me yet! She hasn’t said ’I’ve missed you, baby’ like she used to. She hasn’t hugged me yet or…or said I…I love you yet. She…can’t--”
The hardest part wasn’t her leaving. It was the realization that she wasn’t ever coming back, Never seeing, ever breathing, ever living, ever seeing me again that forced me to crumble down to my knees and every tear to tear my face apart with it’s burning heat.
“Adele? Oh my God, Adele. You’re my Adele Marie?”
I clumsily stayed rooted to the black tile on which I stood as my older brother embraced me in a tight hug for the first time in ages.
My tear ducts were brutally swollen at this point but the salty wet tears streamed down my face once more as I held onto him closely. My dainty feet were left dangling over the black and white linoleum floor.
“You’re alive. I can’t believe you’re alive,” murmured Johnny, into my shoulder.
I wouldn’t let go or loose my deathly firm grip for anything. Shock wasn’t even the correct word to use. All the words in the dictionaries and thesauruses couldn’t begin to distinguish this emotion that was coursing through me like a wild river. He was suppose to be six feet under by now. Yet, here he was, in the flesh, holding me close to him. I gripped onto him tighter as the hot tears continued to flow down my dace and soaked into his candy apple red shirt. He couldn’t be real. Yet, I felt his very alive heart beat thump against me, his lungs expand and withdraw within his chest. I could hear his voice, much deeper now, but still his voice.
“I thought you…you were both…both dead.” I managed to speak in between sobs as he continued to cradle me in his arms. I could hear him crying even though it was muffled by my sweatshirt. We stood there, still sharing our embrace , crying together. Together.
He sniffled loudly as he set me back down.
“Adele, God. You’re gorgeous, you’ve grown up so much, Princess,” whimpered Johnny as he took a look at me for the first time. His cold hands cupped my blazingly hot face.
“So have you, Johnny. God, I can’t believe…”
I remembered him as he was. He used to be rather on the small side and slightly chubby with pin straight brown hair. He was twelve when I though he had died. Now he stood in front of me, must be six feet tall. His icy blue-ish green eyes brightened like fire, yet froze you over at the same time, just like I remembered them. His pale skin was slightly tanner and now he had jet black hair which laid all around his head like a mop.
“It’s like looking at a fuckin’ ghost, right?” He questioned swiping at his swollen eyes.
“Yeah.” I whispered as I hugged him again and started breathing normally again.
“Oh, oh, oh.” I said as I took in a sharp breath and forcefully rubbed my eyes.
“J, this is my boyfriend, Frankie. Do you remember him?” I asked as I swiftly glided over to where Frankie was standing and pulled him into a sort of hug.
“Oh my God, Frank, kid you’ve grown! You gave her the nickname Munchkin, if I’m not mistaken.”
Frankie grinned and replied, “Yeah dude, it really is like looking at a ghost.”
“Tell me about it.”
They firmly shook hands as if they were meeting for the first time.
“Do you guys are a couple now, huh?”
“Yeah.” Frank and I replied as I continued to rub my eyes.
“Congrats,” sighed Johnny as he flashed a weak smile.
“Babe, don’t rub, here, let me.”
Frank used the sleeve of his sweatshirt, placed two gentle fingers under my chin and swiped tenderly over my eyes.
A fleeting feeling of guilt swept over me as I suddenly realized why I had come to the room in the first place.
“How’s…how’s mom?” I asked as I sniffed and walked over to the bed.
“Aid, they…they said she’s done.”
I glanced over at the bed and instantly recoiled.
“Done?”
What did he mean “done”? She wasn’t done. No, she isn’t done. She isn’t, she can’t be. I was utterly confused and I hadn’t listened carefully. He didn’t say that. Never-say-die Johnny would never say that unless…
“Adele, mom’s gone.”
“What?”
“Adele, I’m sorry. She’s…she’s gone. The nurse didn’t get you guys quick enough.”
“No, she isn’t.”
I moved closer to the bed and placed my pale hands onto the eerily white bed sheet. Both Johnny and Frankie tilted their heads and stared at me with gloomy and worried expressions tattooed to their sullen faces.
“The doc--”
“I don’t give a damn what the doctors say,” I said as I swiveled around, “She can’t die. She hasn’t even seen me yet! She hasn’t said ’I’ve missed you, baby’ like she used to. She hasn’t hugged me yet or…or said I…I love you yet. She…can’t--”
The hardest part wasn’t her leaving. It was the realization that she wasn’t ever coming back, Never seeing, ever breathing, ever living, ever seeing me again that forced me to crumble down to my knees and every tear to tear my face apart with it’s burning heat.