Rosa heard music again, a choir singing “Hark the Herald Angels Sing”, in the distance. As she sat on the edge of her bed, tears flowing, she looked over at her mother’s picture on her nightstand. She could still hear the words, the arguing, from the last night Rosa saw her alive.
“Mama they will call me a whore!”. She knew it wasn’t true, but she was willing to say anything that night to get her off the track of Rosa going to church. “Rosa, please…it’s Christmas Eve after all.”
It was the night her mother passed away. And the guilt Rosa felt about everything, was crashing in on her now, including the wild parties, and drinking until she was senseless.
Grabbing her head, and laying on the bed, the pain was getting worse. And why were the women at her job so mean to her today? She could not help it that she didn’t know English very well. They were vicious, and all for working at a fast-food restaurant!
She shouted, “I hate Christmas!” into the ceiling, then sat up and went for the pill bottle in her nightstand. She stopped, there was that music again….. “Where was it coming from……?”
She also had a feeling, an unusual sense, that someone else was there in the room now…..but strangely, she wasn’t afraid. And then oddly someone sat on her bed…..or at least it seemed that way, but she didn’t see anyone…..
To be continued….
Writing and Image Copyright © revised 2020 rivers renewed
Note this is fiction.