An Angel's Ring

{This story contains depictions of a motor vehicle accident.}

At seventeen, I'm just a few months away from becoming society's problem, according to Mr. Higgs. While Mr. Higgs is the guardian of the Home, he's far from a parental figure of any kind. Mr. Higgs hardly speaks to us and doesn't try to hide that he avoids us. I still can't figure out why he opened a home for kids.

It was already 7:48 p.m., and I couldn't be late for curfew again. My late-night reading was my sole source of joy in that place, and I wasn't willing to risk losing it.

The water jumped away from my feet every time they hit the ground. I was so focused on my speed that I almost slipped on a small puddle while rounding a corner. I booked it up the fire escape and jumped through the window. I made it just in time. Kicking off my shoes, I jumped into bed. And just like clockwork, Mr. Higgs opened the door, scanned the room for heads, and left without a word. Switching on a dim light, I retrieved the book tucked beneath my pillow.

I can't recall when I fell asleep, but the nightmare is crystal clear in my mind. I always remember the nightmares, especially this one. It started the same as it always did, with all of us laughing at dinner. It was a special dinner Lidia made for me. Ben came home from work early for me. It was all just for me. I could feel the pit in my stomach growing by the second. We're in the car, on that familiar road, singing the same song. "No," I thought to myself, "Stop." I couldn't move my body. "Stop!" My lips wouldn't budge, but they couldn't hear me. I turned to face her once again. Her smile was so lovely, but my attention shifted to the headlights behind her. My eyes burned, so I clenched them shut and screamed.

I shot upright, gasping for air. Cold beads of sweat ran down my face, and my hands trembled uncontrollably. Instinctively, I grasped my shirt over my racing heart. "Relax. It's just a dream." I repeat those words to myself, and for some reason, they're the only thing that soothes me. Strangely, convincing myself that it was all in my head made it easier to cope.

While steadying my breathing, I noticed a sliver of light coming through the window, delicately illuminating one corner of the room. In the corner sat an old dining chair, long forgotten. There was a tattered sheet draped over most of it and something near the rear legs was reflecting the moonlight. I quietly climbed out of bed and over to the chair, nearly pulling the sheet off with my footing. Kneeling, I slipped my hand under the chair and grabbed at the glinting object. It felt small and thin and was cold to the touch. Pulling my hand out, I opened it to see a silver ring with a single stone. It was green, her green.

Upon my arrival here with Mr. Higgs, he confiscated anything of value, and to my dismay, that included her ring. I tried to tell him it wasn't worth anything, that it was a fake, but it already didn't matter. At that point, he had already made up his mind. I panicked and tried to take the ring from him, but I was just a kid. I suspected he took it and sold it for some extra cash, yet I never actually witnessed the act. This ring looked just like hers. Clutching it in my hands, something soft tapped my hand. As I clasped it in my hands, something gentle brushed against my skin. Touching my cheeks, I discovered tears streaming down my face. I wiped my eyes and returned to my bed, laying down and drawing my legs towards me. There, I did nothing but gaze at the ring in my hand.

Nearly eighteen years ago, a woman gave birth to me, and after ensuring I was healthy, she vanished. She simply walked out of the hospital and never glanced back. I don't hold it against her, and I'm not bothered by it. The hospital staff placed me in a foster home, where I was cared for until I turned two. The couple opted for a child of their own, and when the woman became pregnant, they returned me to the system. I didn't mind; they were too formal for my taste anyway. With few families willing to take in a 'returned child,' as we were labeled in this chaotic place, I began to resign myself to the idea that I would spend the remainder of my childhood there.

Shortly after my fourth birthday, I began sneaking into the clocktower atop the orphanage through the old crawlspaces. From up there, I could see the entire town. It was breathtaking and became my favorite spot. One time, I was observing families at the park down the road, envisioning myself there with the enigmatic hospital woman. While trying to picture what she might look like, I spotted a little girl with her parents. She appeared to be the same age as me, and she had the most endearing expression. I had never seen anyone so joyful.

I began visiting the tower just for her. Every day after finishing my chores, I would go and wait, hoping to see her. She didn't come every day, but it felt like they visited as often as they could. She often played with her parents instead of the other kids, so I couldn't help but wonder if they didn't like her, or if it was the other way around.

The clock tower had been silent for over a decade due to a broken cog, causing it to be overlooked by most people, and the corner it stood on was always quiet. Unfortunately, while I was watching her one day, I accidentally dislodged a rock from the ledge, striking the bell. The soft ting of the impact echoed slightly, loud enough for anyone nearby to hear, and hear they did. I swiftly turned and locked eyes with her, then hurriedly retreated to my room, hoping she hadn't spotted me.

The next day, I avoided returning to the tower, fearing she might have seen me and be waiting for me. Instead, I went back to my room, seeking something else to occupy my time. There wasn't much in there, just a few boxes of neglected belongings. I decided to rummage through the top ones, hoping to find some old children's toys or something of interest. To my surprise, the box was filled with books.

A few months shy of starting school, my reading skills were limited. I carefully picked a book from the top of the pile, examining its faded red cover and sun-stained pages. It emitted the comforting aroma of old paper, a scent I would grow to cherish.

Closing the box, I took the book to my bed. Lying down, I tried to decipher the cover. I couldn't comprehend the last word. The first seemed like 'Greet', but it wasn't spelled the same. Despite my struggle with the title, I delved into the first pages.

Before long, I had skimmed through the opening chapter. It didn't entirely make sense to me, but I was relieved to have something to occupy my time. I began carrying the book with me everywhere and gradually started bringing items to the tower. I transformed the clock tower into my personal sanctuary, as it was abandoned. I brought blankets, pillows, and books, finding myself spending increasing amounts of time there, gradually paying less attention to the little girl.

On a beautiful Spring day, eager to start a new chapter, I hurried through my chores and ascended to the tower. Upon reaching the hatch, I discovered that my book was missing. As I scanned the area, a creak sounded behind me, followed by a playful "Boo!" Startled, I turned around and tumbled backward, coming face to face with a laughing girl. Initially embarrassed and then bewildered, I struggled to place her. How did she get here?

After a moment, I recognized her, and my face flushed once more. She reached out her hand, and I accepted it, wordlessly allowing her to help me up. As we stood face-to-face, I realized I was slightly taller than her. With a swift movement, she revealed my book from behind her back, noticing my change in expression. She retreated to the other side of the room, motioning for me to join her on the pillows. Almost instinctively, I complied.

Pointing at the title, she softly uttered, "Great Expectations," before opening the book. Her voice was gentle and melodious, captivating me. She shared, "This one's my favorite," and proceeded to read the first few pages. Eventually, a voice called out to her, "Miss Eva! Miss Eva, time to go!" "Coming," she replied. "I have to go, but I'll be back next week. See you then?" With another smile, she descended the tower. I remained speechless, captivated by her presence. I couldn't wait for her return the following week.

This became a routine for us, and before long we became the best of friends. It had only been a few months, but our time together quickly became my reason to put up with this place. She gave me hope for a better future. The higher you fly the harder you fall I suppose.

When we meet, she typically arrives at the tower before me, but she was absent today. With no means of communication other than meeting in person, I grew concerned that something had happened to her. I settled into a seat and patiently awaited her arrival.

After about five minutes, I heard a rustling from below. Suddenly, her head appeared in the entryway, and our eyes met. A broad, goofy grin illuminated her face as she swiftly pulled herself up and out. Perhaps it was the sunlight, but she seemed to glow.

"I have some really exciting news!" she exclaimed, eagerly awaiting my reaction. With a smirk, I listened as she continued, "My dad said I could take you out!" Stunned, my mind and expression went blank. "My dad is sending a driver, and we can go tomorrow! Don't worry, I already talked to Miss Banks. She said you could come!" She watched my face intently, waiting for my response.

I struggled to form a reply, my body acting on instinct as I pulled her into a hug. After a brief pause, she wrapped her arms around me. As we returned to our reading, my thoughts were consumed by the anticipation of the following day.

I didn't have many clothes, but I did my best to wear the nicest outfit I owned. It was clear that I didn't have anything fancy, but she didn't mind. She took me shopping, and I cherish the memory of that day.

We rode in a car to nearby shops and stopped for a meal. It was just the two of us and her butler, Reginald. He was a gentle, older gentleman who seemed to relish our company. It was a delightful and cherished memory.

A few days later, Miss Banks received a letter from "Mr. O" announcing that he would be sending someone to assess the children. Some of us began to speculate if this would turn into another "Annie" situation, while others dismissed it with laughter. We were accustomed to receiving such letters from time to time, and without fail, they always chose a child under the age of three. The rest of us had all but abandoned hope.

The day before I met Eva, a man visited the Home. Miss Banks showed him around before taking him to her office. I was occupied with folding sheets at the time, so I missed seeing who it was. They conversed for quite a while, but I couldn't discern their words from the basement. The man departed without saying anything else.

That night after dinner, Miss Banks entered my room with news. She informed me that the man who had visited was selecting children for consideration. He would take the chosen files to his boss, who would then proceed with the adoption process. She had just received word that I had been chosen and would be picked up the next day. "Pack what you can tonight and gather the rest in the morning. He'll be here tomorrow at noon. Have a good night, dearie," she said before leaving. I followed her instructions, trying to keep my emotions in check.

The next morning, I packed my belongings as instructed, struggling to hold back tears. I needed to retrieve my books from the tower, and when I reached there, my emotions overwhelmed me. I was filled with fear at the thought of not seeing her again, as I wasn't prepared to lose the one good thing I had.

I was awakened by the sound of cars honking outside. Upon checking, I noticed a procession of cars heading down the street. It was almost noon. Hastily, I gathered my books and rushed down from the tower. Miss Banks was waiting for me in the lobby and assisted me with tidying up. As the door opened, the backlit figure of the man entering seemed strangely familiar, and for a moment, I thought it was "Mr. O." However, with another step inside, I realized it was none other than Reginald! I was overjoyed to see him.

Miss Banks requested that I wait for a moment as she spoke to him, which made me feel uneasy. However, my apprehension dissipated when Miss Banks smiled, turned to me, and signaled for me to come over. I understood the situation, but I was hesitant to voice it for fear of awakening from what felt like a dream.

He accompanied me to the car, and we drove to the estate. The journey was mostly quiet, yet I sensed Reginald's gaze on me most of the time. It seemed like he was waiting for my reaction.

The car came to a halt in front of the house, which was grander than the Home but exuded a cozy vibe. As Reginald opened the door for me, the front doors of the estate swung open. A petite figure dashed out and bolted toward the car. I immediately recognized her blonde curls and angelic smile. Eva enveloped me in a tight hug, almost knocking me over. Locking eyes with me, she uttered two magical words, "Welcome home."

For twelve years, I lived with her and her family, and she was like a sister to me; I cherished her deeply. The car accident didn't occur on just any day, and I wish it had. It was my fault. I was the one who wanted to do something special. I was in a rush to get home. I was selfish. I longed to cling to them, to that moment with all of us, laughing on the way home, everyone singing in the car. I yearn to turn back time, for that day to last forever. I wish I could tell them one more time. I wish I could tell her one more time.

As I lay on the cold bed, my eyes fluttered closed, still clutching the ring. Drifting away, I could see her, just as beautiful as I remembered. She looked at me with that same soft smile she used to give me whenever I did something wrong. I longed to speak to her, but instead, I reached out. She took my hand and placed it on her face, feeling so real. Pulling her close, I couldn't contain my sobs. She gently stroked my hair, allowing me to stay there for a while. Collecting myself, I rubbed my eyes and began, "I have something to say to you."

"Me too," she smiled. "But you go first," as she always did.

"I just... Now that I'm here, I wasn't sure what to say first. I wanted to say thank you. I don't think I said it enough. You gave me something to look forward to. And... I'm sorry. I've wanted to apologize since... but it was too hard to say it to a piece of stone. I'm so sorry, Eva. It was all my fault. I was too selfish and... if only it wasn't my..." Tears started rolling down my face again, and there was suddenly something in my throat. She put her hand on my shoulder.

"It's okay. You don't have to be sorry. And you don't have to thank me. You said I gave you something, but you also gave me something. I got to have a best friend growing up! I was lucky to have met you. It wasn't your fault. I'm glad I brought you home. I'll always cherish that day, and you should too. I love you, and thank you."

Her words meant everything to me. That was everything I needed to hear. I just stared at her as the tears streamed down my face. She hugged me again and gave me a squeeze.

My eyes opened to a bright light, and as I sat up and rubbed my eyes, I felt the wetness of tears on my cheeks. The ring was no longer in my grasp, and I began to frantically search for it. It wasn't within my blanket, so I reached under my pillow, and there it was, nestled safely in the center. I put it on an old chain and clasped it around my neck. Once again, she helped me, except this time I got to help her too.