Calling the Angels.
Summary:Five years after Alyssa's death,Addison visits her grave.
A slender fourteen year old girl with messy brown hair pulled into a loose bun and big blue eyes walked up the hill,pulling her jacket tighter around her willowy form with one hand as she held flowers----daisies in the other. She smiled a watery smile as she stopped infront of the marble grave. She smiled sadly as she stared at the gravestone with the name written across the cool,polished rock. Alyssa Margaret Johanson. She'd been Addison's friend in elementary school when she was nine. She'd died five years ago today. They'd met on the playground at Port Charles Elementary School. They were in the same class and Alyssa and her family were new to Port Charles having only been there a week. They hadn't been friends for long at all. Only a day to be exact. Addison could remember it like it had happened mere hours ago instead of five years ago today.
"Hey Alyssa. It's me,Addison. It's been five years and I still really miss you. I still don't understand how you can be dead or how your "parents" though that term doesn't fit them well at all---could do that to you. I brought you your favorite flowers. I went to the florist and got one of every colored daisy I could find." Addison said as tears began to trail down her cheeks. "I'm fourteen now and I am in ninth grade. Highschool. Can you believe it? I wish you were with me. I wish we got to experience high school together. I wish that you'd have told someone---anyone what was happening to you. Maybe then you'd still be here and I'd be talking to you face instead of to your grave." She sighed then and let her hands brush over the letters on the rock. The dates written on the rock 2012-2021 leered at her hauntingly. Nine years old. Alyssa had been nine years old when she was beaten to death by her abusive,monsterous parents. She would be fourteen if she were alive today. Same age as Addison.
"You okay Addie?" A voice asked as a hand reached down to gently brush along her shoulder.
She turned to face the voice and the gentle hand. She smiled. "Yeah Ron. I'm fine. It's just...hard." She told him.
Ron noticed his friend was shivering under her light-weight jacket and shrugged off his zip up hoodie,putting it around his friend's shoulders.
Addison smiled gratefully and tugged at the hoodie. She could smell her friend's masculine scent emitting from it. "Thanks." She stood up slowly as she felt a raindrop hit her nose. She felt Ron step up torward the grave and she watched him kneel down,placing a bouquet of white roses beside the daisies. White. The color of innocence and purity. An innocence that was so quickly snatched away into selfish hands. Addison giggled through her tears and the rain and tucked herself under her friends arm.
Ron wrapped an arm about her waist protectively and held the umbrella over their heads as they walked to the car and got in the backseat on either side of seven year old,Andrew. Damian Spinelli turns to face his daughter in his seat with his hands still on the steering wheel. "You okay Addison?" He asked of her,studying her closely. It had become a ritual of sorts. Every year,on the day that Alyssa died---at exactly eight-fifteen,the time of which Damian,Addison and Ron had learned of Alyssa's death,Damian Spinelli had taken his daughter and her friend and Damian's godson,the adopted son of Jason and Sam Morgan to the cemetery to put flowers on little Alyssa Johanson's grave to remember her.
Addison lifted her blue eyes as she reached across Andrew who sat in his seat playing Nintendo to clasp Ron's hand with her's. "I'm fine now daddy." She assured. "I'm fine now."
The End