It's funny how one day can change your life forever.

Just one day. That's all it takes.

After that, nothing feels right anymore.

You feel like you can't go on.

Like there's nothing left to live for.

Just one day.

That day was when my daughter died.

It was a bright, sunny July afternoon. The community pool was packed full with laughing, screaming children whose merry voices drifted about in the air. I leaned back in my chair, smiling. It was a gorgeous day. Puffy white clouds floated along in the periwinkle blue sky, and a cool breeze was prominent in the air, sending sweet relief to those who wished to escape the daunting heat of the summer. I found myself relishing in this new twist of the weather, and felt relatively happier than I had been in a long time. My daughter Annabelle stood contentedly in the shallow end of the pool – just standing there. Her eyes were closed, and she wore a peaceful, relaxed expression on her face. Any regular onlooker might have believed her to be crazy, but I knew better. She was simply different. Annabelle had her own, beautiful, unique way of looking at the world. I had never met anyone else quite like her, and in my eyes, she was a perfect little angel who could do no wrong.

Somehow, Annabelle must have sensed that I was gazing at her, because she opened her hypnotizing slivery-grey eyes and trained them on me, a small smile on her face. That was another thing about her – when she looked at me, I always felt for sure that she was reading my thoughts.

"Is it time to go now?" she asked quietly, running her long, delicate fingers through the water.

I shook my head, changing my mind. I'd let her stay in the pool for a bit longer.

Annabelle had always loved water, even when she was a wee little thing. One day, I had found her in the bathtub, the water filled up to the brim. When I had asked her what she was doing, she had told me that she was rebalancing her energy levels. Apparently, water helped her focus; helped her find inner peace and comfort. Whenever she would emerge from the tub, she would feel so refreshed and happy. And that was all I wanted. For her to be happy.

It was the same thing with the pool. After letting the water soak into her skin, she would feel so much better. Annabelle almost preferred the pool to the bathtub because the water quantity and concentration was so much higher.

This summer, we had made it a point to make regular visits to the pool.

Now, because of my husband, we were coming here every day.

A few weeks ago, my husband Robert had packed up his stuff and left, not even bothering to leave a note that said where he was going. Of course, Annabelle had been devastated. Though she had never really been close with Robert, who spent his days off at work, she shared a very strong emotional bond with him. The day he left, she had to spend the whole day soaking in the tub before she could even manage to speak. Her heart was broken, the poor little thing. And it was all Robert's fault. I hated him for leaving us like this, penniless and without a way to support ourselves. But we would manage. Things were tight, but I knew Annabelle and I could get through. She had been trying so hard to be strong for me these past couple of weeks, but I knew she was wearing thin. So here we were at the pool, attempting to move on with our lives. Annabelle would purify herself of the bad energies and I would sit watching her. It was a rather repetitive life, but somehow, I found joy in it. Annabelle was the light in my darkness, and I knew that as long as I was with her, I would be happy.

I stood up from my chair, and Annabelle's eyes fluttered open.

"Time to leave now?" she asked mildly.

"Yes, darling."

Annabelle glided to the steps of the pool like a graceful ghost. She rose up from the water, squeezing the liquid from her waist-length blonde hair with practiced ease. Then, she walked over to me and took my hand in hers.

"I love you, Mum," she said without warning, an unidentifiable emotion shining in her eyes. "I love you so much. Please, don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

There she went again with that thought-reading thing.

"I love you too, honey," I said, wrapping her in a warm embrace, not even caring that she was getting my blouse wet. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Annabelle smiled radiantly. "Come on, Mum," she said, taking my arm. "Let's go home."

My eyes twinkled. "Why don't we go get ice cream instead?" I asked her as she led me out of the gates. She seemed highly cheered by this idea, and nodded enthusiastically. Right across the street from the pool, there was a quaint little ice cream stand. We went there on especially hot days, or when we just felt in the mood for a treat. Today, a treat didn't seem out of the question.

After a while, we reached the road. Cars buzzed by, their honking horns polluting the airspace. It was a very busy intersection, and it always made me a bit jittery when we crossed it. "Stay right behind me," I told Annabelle. "This is a very dangerous street."

She nodded seriously.

There was a break in the traffic, and we stepped forward onto the road. "Remember to stay behind me," I said over my shoulder, walking quickly. Annabelle followed.

Heaving a sigh of relief, I stepped up onto the curb. I turned around to ask Annabelle what flavor she wanted, but she wasn't there. I panicked when I saw her standing in the middle of the street, her curious, distracted eyes trained on a butterfly that floated near her head.

"ANNABELLE!" I screamed, frightened. "HURRY!"

Annabelle tore her gaze away from the butterfly and started running across the street to me, but it was too late. A car, seeing the green light, had already lurched forward. It hit my daughter and she flew into the air, limp and lifeless. For a minute, time stood still. I saw her floating like an angel, then crashing down onto the pavement with a sickening crunch, her beautiful grey eyes wide with shock and fear. Her head snapped forward at an impossible angle and she laid there on the ground, broken and still, the most heart-wrenching look of terror and pain upon her young, innocent face.

"NO!" My piercing scream flooded into space. I rushed into the street, not even worrying that I myself might be hit. All I knew was that I had to get to her. Annabelle was all I had left now, and if God took her away from me, I would be ruined. Shattered. Destroyed. No mother should have ever had to go through what I did as I ran onto that road, praying with all of my heart that she would be okay, that there might be some hint of life left in her.

"PLEASE, PLEASE, NO!" I begged, crouching next to my daughter's body, sobbing. I grabbed her by the waist and found the strength to drag her off the road, pleading that she would be okay. "Annabelle, Annabelle!" I murmured, shaking her desperately. "Open your eyes, please!"

At my request, Annabelle sluggishly opened her eyes and stared at me. "Mom," she whispered, voice saturated with pain. "It hurts. All – all over. It's crushing me. Make it go away."

My tears streamed down my cheeks even more heavily. My daughter needed me, but I couldn't do anything about it. I had no idea how to Heal; I had never learned. So willingly I would go in her place right now, to take upon the burden she was suffering.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," I whispered back. "I don't know how to help you." It hurt me so much to say that, like a dagger to the chest. I couldn't help her. It was my fault she was about to die, and I couldn't help her.

Annabelle just smiled up at me, smiling even though she was in so much pain. She never ceased to amaze me, and no matter how hard I tried to suppress them, tears started streaming down my cheeks."I don't know how to help you," I repeated stupidly, the lump in my throat growing bigger. "I'm so, so sorry. How could I have done this to you, sweetheart? It's all my fault. I should have made sure you were right behind me when we were crossing the road, or maybe – "

"That's okay, Mum. Promise me you won't blame yourself," Annabelle interrupted soothingly, raising a weak hand to stroke my lined face. "It was my fault for not listening to you. I know you're sad right now, but I'll be fine. Please, don't worry. Heaven doesn't sound like such a bad place to go."

I shook my head, still crying. She was so brave. Such a brave, beautiful little angel. And she was about to die. She knew it. "Don't leave me," I begged, eyes closed. "I don't know what I'll do without you. You're the only thing I'm living for now."

Annabelle smiled faintly. "Mom, when I'm gone, I want you to help others like me. Help them feel better. Help them so that they won't have to die."

"Annabelle, what will I do without you?" I moan miserably, giving up my last hope that she might be able to survive this. "If you die, I'll never be happy again."

She just looked at me with those, big, perfect eyes of hers. "Mum, I know I can't be with you anymore. But I want you to be happy. You have to stop looking at the past and start looking into the future. You never know what you'll find." And then, with a sigh, she said, "I see Grandma, now, Mum. And everyone else. They're coming for me. So don't – don't worry. I'm – I'm in good hands now."

Annabelle took her last breath and dropped into my arms. The sparkle in her eyes had been vanquished, leaving them dull and lifeless, a shell of their former loveliness and beauty. I knew that this was the end of her story, and a tragic twist of events in mine.

That was the day my daughter died.

After that day, I resolved to become a nurse at Hogwarts.

I would learn how to Heal,

And I would help other children like my daughter.

I would help them in ways that I could have never helped Annabelle.

I know that life isn't fair sometimes, but Annabelle taught me that no matter what,

You have to keep trying.

People may call me grumpy, strict, and other things,

But I'm really not. I'm only grieving,

Grieving with my all heart and soul,

And wishing I could go back to that one day,

When God took away my Angel.

Please review! I'll love you so much!