She wasn’t an angel trying to get back to heaven, far from it actually. Sure, when she smiled, her hair all messy, her grin wide, just messing around in a field away from the city with our bikes somewhere by the dirt road, she looked enchanting, but later she’d complain about the tangles and how hard they’re to brush out, how the grass teased her skin and how easily our bikes could’ve been stolen.
Her words weren’t always the kindest, and her thoughts definitely not always the wisest, once in a hot summer me and her friends stole a grocery shops cart, we took it all the way to the river and she begged to be rolled down hill into the river, we of course complied, some guys even filmed it. She didn’t even make it into the water, the cart flipped on the side and sled downhill, when she got out she was a dusty and bruised mess. Her best friend laughed at her, she cussed.
I haven’t seen her for few years, we haven’t talked after I left the country, I’ve nearly forgotten her, she didn’t cross my mind much, when I got the news, I cried. I tried to remember her face, yet everything was blurry, all the moments we’d shared, yet somehow I’d still remembered her, her person, I did not remember her smile, yet I knew it.
It was her aunt who said it, I think, it made me wonder, frankly I didn’t like the woman, she was wrong. If her, herself would’ve heard it, she’d laugh, maybe thank her to, but she’d know that the woman was dead wrong.
She wasn’t an angel trying to get back to heaven; she was a girl who decided to look for something that was missing somewhere else.