She sat upright in bed and shouted, “Douglas, why can't you be with me like I want you to be. Oh baby---WHY?" She then walked to her computer and op...ned her writing program. She was not sure, what she would write. Sometimes, when she was troubled, she could put her thoughts down in poetry. Writing always calmed her tattered spirit. "Teardrops of an Angel"His Angel spoke softly as a lonely tear trickled down her cheek."Oh my darling, I miss you, my arms ache wanting to hold you!"His Angel wiped. The wig he wore pinned to his head was aclassically rich, dark auburn, most unlike his own mousey brownunderneath it. It featured a parting above his left eye, and he wore itloose and swept to his right, cascading over his right shoulder. Danglysilver earrings hung from each lobe, the light bouncing off the diamondshanging at the tip.The eighteen-year-old's face was beautifully made up, with archedeyebrows, full red lips and deep shading above his eyes. He smiled at hisreflection; he'd learned. More

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