Papa's Angel Tears

• Jasmin Wright, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2018

It has been six months since Octavia’s father’s death. Six months since she left her bedroom. Six months since she has had a decent meal. Six months since her life was ripped away from her. Every day, her mother would come up in hopes to get her to leave her bedroom but failing every time. She was worried for her daughter; she could see her eyes becoming duller each day. What Octavia’s mother didn’t know was that as soon as her mother would leave her room, Octavia would jump out of her bed and jerk open a secret draw hidden beneath her desk. Pulling out countless letters that she wrote and placing them on her desk would she also take out her note book and a pen, writing another letter to someone she would only hope would be able to receive…
‘Dear Papa,
If I go mad, they will think that it’s because of you. Maybe because you died in front of me over a course of two-and-a-half days. I had never imagined you dying before. Not just literally but also the likely hood of it happening. I always saw you as invincible, well; at least I thought so at the time. Guess I was wrong though, hey?
Love you to the moon and back,
Your only daughter P.S: see you soon xxx’.
Today though was different. Finishing off the letter, she slips it into an envelope and places the rest of the letters neatly into a pile before making her way to the bathroom, the door closing behind her. Looking in the mirror she sees her reflection; pale skin, bags under her eyes and a bird nest for hair. Unconsciously, a tear rolls down her cheek, forming a small salty puddle. Crouching down, she opens a cupboard pulling out a white, one litre plastic bottle. Looking at the label, she opens the lid and slowly brings the spout to her chapped, colourless lips. Forcing herself to swallow the liquid, a cough following every gulp. The skin on the inside of her throat feeling as if it was on fire and burning through her very existence. Legs wobbling, she held her scanty body against the bench to help her stand. Looking back to the mirror with a determined look in her eyes, she brings the bottle back to her mouth and tips her head back. Finishing off the bottle, she drops to the floor, a smile on her face. Hearing a thud from downstairs, her mother comes upstairs in search for her daughter, calling out her name. Not finding her in her bedroom, she walks to the bathroom, opening the door only to find her daughter lying lifeless with the bottle in her hand. Removing the bottle from her hand she reads the label seeing that a piece of white tape with handwriting on it saying ‘Papa’s Angel Tears’. Ripping off the tape, she sees what the actual contents of the bottle were… ‘Bleach’.
-Fin-