Finding an Angel by P. J. Belden Read Free Book Online

was left of my heart broke even more, but right now… At this moment, anger controls me.
    Opening our front door, I slam it shut. My mom jumps as I do so. Dad gets up and walks over in my direction.
    “Don’t,” I threaten. “Don’t waste your damn breath. Take care of Mom like you’re supposed to do. I’ll be just fucking fine.”
    With that I storm upstairs, I slam my door and start punching holes in the walls. Ripping her paintings down one by one and busting the frames and ripping the pictures to shreds. This continues until I reach the one above my bed. The one of the woman and man reaching for each other. I can’t destroy it. And anger finally leaves me.
    Now that the anger was gone, sorrow and regret fill me to my core. “I’m so sorry, Jessa. I love you and I just treated you…” I trace the hands in the painting and I let the tears fall.

    Fifteen years old…
    Tears fall mercilessly down my cheeks as I stand frozen in my spot. I’ve never felt like this before. This consuming ache in my chest is foreign and I don’t like it. That wasn’t my Hunter, I observe as I watch his retreating back disappear around into the distance. That man… I don’t know, but something happened. Finally getting my feet to move, I run to the house to find my parents talking quietly with each other.
    When I walk into the room, they stop and both look at me. Dad is the first to get up and wrap me in a hug.
    “What’s… going… on,” I cry into his chest. “Hunter was just here and he was so mean to me. He broke my heart,” I sob.
    “Come here sweetie. Sit down at the table for a moment. We need to talk,” Mom says as she pats the chair Dad was sitting in.
    Cautiously, I move to take a seat at the table. Both of them take one of my hands, my mom has tears in her eyes and looks to my dad. He swallows hard and looks at me with sad eyes.
    “Baby, Hunter is hurting. Don’t take anything he said or did to heart. I know when he realizes what he’s done, he’ll regret every second and wish he could take it back.”
    “What’s happened? Please tell me. I can’t be there for him if I don’t know what’s wrong,” I plead with each of them, looking at them in turn.
    “Does the name Hawkeye sound familiar to you?” Mom asks patiently.
    “Yes. It’s Hunter’s brother overseas. I wrote him and he sent me letters back and pictures of him and Hunter and a picture of him.”
    “Honey, he died. He was fighting overseas…”
    “Hunter lost his best friend…” I whisper.
    “Yes, he did and the Sandeans lost a son. So, please don’t take…”
    Pushing from the table, I run to my room and I shut and lock the door. He doesn’t hate me. His heart is broken. Pulling out the pictures that Hawkeye had sent me, I start to work on three special paintings. I got to know Hawkeye a little from his letters; his relationship with each of his parents and his brother. So I know what I’m going to paint. Setting up four canvases, I start to work and I work without eating because I know Hunter won’t be. I didn’t sleep because I know Hunter won’t be. All I did was work on my paintings.
    By midday the next day, they are done and dry. “Mom! Dad!” I yell opening my door.
    They both rush into my room and their hands fly to their mouths on a gasp. Mom immediately starts crying silent tears and Dad stands there with his mouth gaping in shock.
    “I need help getting these wrapped. Oh, and I also need an envelope for a letter and something else.”
    Shaking his head, Dad asks, “How big of an envelope?”
    “One of those big brown ones will work.”
    Quickly, we set about wrapping them and wrote their names on them. The envelope I secure to the rope that crisscrosses around the four paintings. Walking quickly, I deliver them to their door and knock loud. I don’t wait for an answer. Instead, I just run around out of sight, but making sure they got their gifts from me. Mr. Sandean is the one that opens the door, looking