Angel waved goodbye to Michael from her bedroom window and silently watch him glance over his shoulder to look back at her. Once he was out of sight, she took a seat under her window sill and breathed a soft, melancholy sigh. The silence hung heavily in the air, weighing hard on Angel's limp body. She rolled up her sleeves to her elbows and studied the light scars slashed across her caramel skin. She delicately ran her fingers over them. Some were recent, some were old, and some were still in the process of healing. Her mother had been more violent than ever before. She figured it was because the anniversary of her father's death was today. She was grieving as well but she didn't solve her problems with bestowing pain on others. She solved it by forgetting about it and it was easy when she was with Michael. But behind the scenes when she was away from him, she avoided eating. It was something she couldn't help. Every time she ate, she felt as if she were to puke at any moment out of guilt. Besides, she was in dance. Gaining weight is like breaking a law in ballet.

Angel darted out of her room once she heard the voice of her mother and she went into the kitchen, instantly taking notice to the meal she had prepared.

"These were all of your father's favorites," she remarked as her hovering hands circled over the steaming food, "before he died." Her voice was cold and bitter and made Angel want to ignore her and go back to her bedroom.

"Oh really?" Angel asked, trying to sound interested.

"Yes. Let's eat in remembrance of him."

Is this an anniversary or communion? Angel thought jokingly as she sat across from Rhonda at the end of the table. They both clasped their hands together and said grace and Angel stared down at the plates of food covering the entire table. She was afraid that the table wasn't sturdy enough to support the immense weight and thought that it would fall if anymore weight was placed on it.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Rhonda asked taking a chomp out of a slice of cornbread. She shook her head softly and pushed her empty plate aside.

"I'm not hungry..." she stated softly and she felt her stomach rumble quietly once she glanced over at the bowl of spaghetti. The smell of sweet sauce hung in the air and danced past her nostrils, trying to persuade her to take a bite for her sake. She couldn't risk anymore weight gain and she was glad that her mother didn't care about her health.

"Too guilty to eat?" Rhonda asked wiping the corners of her mouth with her napkin.

"Exactly." Silence fell over them and Angel sighed.

"How did my father die?" Angel asked abruptly. She didn't know why she suddenly asked that out of the blue and she knew the answer. He died from a heart attack just like Rhonda had said the day he died. Rhonda took a moment to ponder before hastily answering, "Stroke."

Angel's eyebrows knitted together at the reply and she crossed her arms over her chest, "Are you sure about that?"

"Of course I'm not!" Rhonda laughed, "It was cancer. He died from cancer."

Angel rose an arched brow at her. "I don't think it's that." Rhonda grew extremely nervous and her eyes darted wildly around the room as if she were looking for the unseen answer.

"Rhonda, how did he really die?" Angel asked. Rhonda heaved an uneasy, shaky sigh and her eyes fell to the floor to avoid any sort of eye contact with her suspicious daughter.

"I... him...." she muttered under her breath and even she barely understood what she said.

"Pardon?" Angel questioned.

"I killed him!" Rhonda shouted, her dark eyes meeting Angel's shocked ones. She couldn't believe it. After all of this time she's been hard on herself, feeling guilty every night her father came to mind and she wasn't even the blame. She had nothing to do with his death and was accused when she was absolutely innocent.

"Wh-Why?" Angel questioned. Didn't Rhonda love him? Didn't she marry him for a reason?

"Because," she hissed, "that man didn't know how to discipline you. If he's out of the picture, then I have more time to teach you what I must. All he did was spoil you and now look at you, talking back to me like I didn't give you life. Your lucky I didn't kill you yet."

"I am grateful that you didn't get to that point. But Rhonda, what else do you expect me to do? You don't treat me like a daughter, so why should I treat you like a mother? You were never the one to nurture me. Dad was. You never told me how much you loved me. Dad did. You never even held me and I know that dad held me plenty of times. He treated me like a daughter. Yes, he's spoiled me a couple of times but not to the point that I talked back to him. I respect him but I can't respect you if you are treating me like a piece of trash. If you really want me to respect you and start calling you mom, stop acting like this. Stop trying to discourage me from succeeding in life." Angel felt her tears roll down her cheek and she dragged her sleeve across her eyes.

"How could you kill him?" Angel sobbed, "How could you kill someone that had given you nothing but love and support?"

Rhonda didn't answer but instead left her alone in the room. Angel sighed shakily and ran off to her bedroom to the comfort of her pillows.

Michael smiled once he saw Angel walking down the porch steps of her home and he noticed that instead of jeans and a tight fitting shirt, she wore a large T-shirt that hung loosely on her body with a black jacket over it and a pair of baggy sweatpants. He ignored her sudden change of fashion then pulled Angel into an embrace, twirling her around like the ballerina she was. She seemed to weigh as light as a feather in his arms and he planted her feet on the ground.

"Have you lost weight? I can barely feel you in my arms." She giggled slightly and somewhat nervously before giddily replying, "No."

"Why are you wearing a jacket? It's really warm today," he remarked.

"I'm freezing," she stated, rapidly rubbing her arms.

"What? How could you be freezing in this weather?" She shrugged her shoulders. He stared at her for a brief moment, shrugged, and walked with her to school.

I wonder why she got light all of a sudden... Maybe she's on a diet. A lot of ballerinas are pretty skinny. Maybe she's trying to fit in with them. But her weight before was perfect. Why is she changing? He looked over at her and instantly noticed that she didn't look back and smile like she usually would.

She's not as cheerful as she used to be... I wonder if this has something to do with her mom.