A/N: This is part of an ongoing series of "monologues" by female being human (UK) characters.
There was always something about him that just never felt right. I couldn't put my finger on it. Annie would never say a bad thing about him, but... I should have said something. They were too young. Maybe it's silly to think I could have prevented it, it's not as if she would have left him because her mother had a bad feeling about him. And maybe... maybe I just wish I'd had those bad feelings. I'm not sure I did. But I knew from day one that it was not an accident.
I hired an investigator. I did. She followed him around for a week. I just wanted something, some kind of proof... Well, he went on with his life like nothing had happened, new girlfriend and all, but they said that wasn't evidence. It wasn't "evidence" that the man who supposedly loved my daughter could just go on like nothing had happened. My psychiatrist says it's a natural part of grief, to want to blame someone for something so sudden and incomprehensible.
When he called to tell me, it was as if the floor just gave out under me. The air was sucked out of the room. It was three in the morning. And, three hours later, the sun had the nerve to rise, as if it was just another day. My child was gone, ripped away in the middle of the night, and, somehow, the world kept turning.
She was the most beautiful baby. People used to stop me in the street to tell me how beautiful she was. They stopped me in the street! Both of my girls were beautiful of course, but there was something about Annie that just drew people to her. She didn't have a lot of boyfriends. Her sister had a parade of boys, but Annie... she was quite particular. When she found a boy she liked, she really liked him. No parade for her, she would have one boy, and he would be the center of her world. When she met him, I could tell, this was a center-of-her-world boy. She was only 21, too young to be thinking about marriage, but she was. And when he proposed a year later... well, I just wanted her to be happy.
I thought they should rent a nice flat and not buy a house. But Annie loved that house. She'd barely moved in when it happened. She didn't even get to enjoy it. I should have known. I should have known. What kind of mother allows her child to live with a monster?
Up until that day, I didn't really believe in life after death. I mean, I went to church on Sundays. Some Sundays. But deep down, I didn't really believe in it until the day my Annie was gone. It wasn't possible that she could just be nothing, completely gone. No, she still exists. I know she does, I can feel it. I used to think that was just something grieving people convinced themselves to get through the night, but I know, without any doubt, it's true. Knowing that doesn't make it easier. The pain never goes away, even on my best days. But she's there, lighting up the heavens. I know I'll see her again.