A Story to Tell

Broken Angel

Title: Broken Angel

(Listen to the song on the right > while reading this. I recommend this a lot 'Broken Angel' by Boyce Avenue)

“Oh broken angel Were you sad when he crushed all your dreams? Oh broken angel Inside you're dying 'cause you can't believe He would leave you alone And leave you so cold When you were his daughter But the blood in your veins As you carry his name Turns thinner than water…You're just a broken angel”

“Daddy, daddy! Look what I made!” Sammy yelled. She ran up to her father holding a white sheet of paper. On the paper she drew an angel, living happily in heaven. Smiling, Sammy handed the paper to her father.

Her father snatched the paper away from her and took one glance at it. Sammy was only five so her drawing wasn’t the best, but she did try for hours to finish it. In Sammy’s eyes, it was perfect and beautiful.

“What the heck is this?!” he screamed, shoving the paper in her face. His eyes were bloodshot and full of hatred.

“It’s-It’s…It’s my drawing d-daddy…” Sammy replied, this time less happier and in a soft voice. “I d-drew an a-angel…don’t you like it?”

Her father laughed bitterly. He crumpled up the paper and threw it at her face. “It’s hideous! If you’re going to draw, draw something I’ll actually look at! Not this junk!” Sammy looked down at her petite shoes, trying not to cry.

I made it for you daddy. Why don’t you like it? she thought. A single tear rolled down her right cheek. Slowly, she wiped it away and picked up her drawing. Opening it, she smiled at the angel once again.

Sammy ran up to her room and hung up the picture of the angel. She sat down in front of it admiring the picture.

“You showed him all the best of you But I'm afraid your best Wasn't good enough”

~ 2 Years Later ~

“Twinkle, twinkle little star!” Sammy sang on stage. She was the lead for her school’s play. She was the little star. Looking at the audience, she searched for her father. Halfway through singing, she spotted him in the middle row, arms crossed and frowning. She wanted to cry. Her father was disappointed. He didn’t like her performance.

“How I--How I…” Sammy lost sense of the words. The music stopped, all eyes were on her. She saw all of the shocked expressions and ran off the stage, crying.

Her father frowned more as he heard people whisper, “Oh dear, what happened? Did she practice? Is she okay?” He stood up and went to find his daughter.

She was hiding in the janitor’s closet as she let out buckets of tears. I embarrassed him. I embarrassed him again!

Then the door opened and she saw her father walk in. She started to speak. “Daddy, I’m so sorry! I-I forgot the words! I failed you again!”

“Shut up!” he yelled. “Do you know how embarrassed I was?! You walked off and forgot the lines! You’re a disgrace! You’re worthless! Your mother would be so ashamed of you. I can’t even look at you anymore.”

His words stung. Sammy’s mother was dead and had been dead since she was a couple of months old. Her father had called her worthless and a disgrace ever since she was two so that was normal. It barely bothered her but saying her mother would say the same broke her. She continued to cry harder.

“Get up!” Sammy’s father screamed. “Stand you lazy girl! We’re going home. You’ve embarrassed me enough.” Sammy obeyed, not uttering a single word.