I was listening to
Concrete Angel by Martina McBride and I was inspired to do a short story on it. Can you guys give me some feedback? Anyway, here`s the story:
Concrete Angel"Hey, wasn`t Angela wearing that dress yesterday?" Tommy asked our group as she walked past, a small girl with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes.
"Yeah, she was, Tommy." Billy said, then yelled, "Hey, Angela! Can`t your mama afford clothes for you, or is she dead now too, like your no good daddy?"
I saw Angela turn away, but not before showing us the tears that were now spilling over, no matter how hard she tried to keep them back. The bell rang, and she darted inside. I said goodbye to my friends, who were all older than me, and ran to my Grade 6 classroom. Ms. Chatham, my teacher, greeted me just as Angela disappeared into our classroom. I went to my seat and sat down.
School went pretty normally until break from there. When we finished lunch, Ms. Chatham sent us all outside. I went to go play Four Square with some of the other boys. I was in line after being bumped out when I saw Angela sitting at the only picnic table in the schoolyard. There was no one else there, just Angela. I looked around, and ran over to her.
She looked up at me. "You here to make fun of me too, like your friends this morning?" she asked, holding back tears again.
I sat down. "No. I`m sorry about this morning, Angela. I never want to hang out with those guys anymore. All they are is mean."
Angela sniffed. "Really?"
"Really."
She smiled. "I trust you, Danny."
I grinned back at her. "Can you meet me in the park tonight?"
Her eyes widened at what I said. She looked terrified, but she nodded all the same. "Okay. I`ll see you there."
That night, I sat at the park under my favourite tree until Angela got there. "I want to show you something." I whispered to her. "Can you climb trees?"
She nodded. "Yeah."
"Well, Angela, the tree we`re currently standing under just happens to be the tallest tree in this town. And we`re going to climb it."
Angela looked terrified again. She nodded all the same. "Let`s go." she said, and jumped up to the first branch. "Come on, Danny."
I smiled, and climbed after her, finding it hard to keep up.
In a matter of minutes, we were at the top of the tree, nestled together in a fork between branches, looking out over our small town. I looked at the girl beside me. She was taking off her white sweater to tie us around the tree, so if a wind came along, it wouldn`t blow us out of the tree. I pointed out towards the lights.
"Isn`t it pretty?" I asked, feeling stupid.
"Yes." Angela replied. I looked at her, and in the moonlight, I noticed strange, dark marks on her arm. The marks, they looked like...finger marks.
I reached out to touch her arm, but she jerked away from me. "Don`t." she breathed in my ear. I could feel her shivering, and I wasn`t sure it was from the cold.
"Angela...what happened to your arm?" I asked hesitantly.
She paused, then whispered very quietly in my ear, "My mother hits me, Danny. She grabs me and shakes me around. She does horrible things to me. But if I try to tell someone, she hits me even more. I can`t tell anyone else, or eventually she`ll find out, and she might kill me."
I felt my eyes build up with tears, and I muttered, "I`m sorry, Angela. I didn`t know."
"It`s okay." she replied. "I`m so used to this now that I don`t feel it anyway. It`s like I`m made of concrete."
I choked up. "How long has this been happening?" I asked.
She sniffed. "Since I was able to walk and talk."
My eyes widened. "Your mother has been getting away with this all this time?"
"Yes."
"You really are made of concrete, Angela. You`re a concrete angel."
She smiled, and I leaned in. I don`t know why I did it, but I did. She leaned in too, and I pressed my lips to hers. She sat there frozen a moment, and pulled away. We shared a small smile, and began down the tree. When we reached the bottom, Angela kissed me again, and ran off to her house. I sighed and started home.
The next day, I walked by Angela`s house, to see if she had already left. What I found disturbed me. The police and ambulances were outside the house. Immediately, I knew what had happened.
"Angela!" I yelled, and ran inside. Her mother tried to cut me off, to stop me from getting to her daughter, but all she managed was to clip me on the ankle. I kept running, following her faint cries. When I reached her room, I dashed inside and found her lying on the floor, covered in blood.
I dashed to her side. "No..." I choked, trying to stop the cascasdes of blood that were running down her face, dying her blonde hair red. She stopped me.
"Danny, I`m already going. It was only a matter of time." she whispered. "There`s nothing anyone can do." she paused. "I love you."
"Angela, no!" I shouted, but she was already gone. My concrete angel, the toughest thing the world had ever known, she was gone. And there was nothing I could do to bring her back.
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Angela Smith, 1999-2010.
A soul forgotten in the abyss of time.
The angel of concrete, beloved friend.
These words were engraved on the small polished black stone, directly under the small angel that had been sculpted into the headstone. I sat there for days after the funeral, just keeping my friend(would she have been more of a friend?) company, hoping for a sign of something, I don`t know what. All I know is that Angela Smith, my beloved Concrete Angel, is in a better place, and she will always be in my heart. I stood, blew a long kiss to the head stone, where my love lay, and walked away. My only hope is that this never happens to any child again.
