Dear Alyssa by Alyssa Morgan (best romance novels of all time txt) 📖

Dear Alyssa…. By: Alyssa Morgan

It all started out so innocent. Or so it seemed that way. I was sixteen years old that summer. It was a summer a will truly never forget.

His name was John; we were madly in love. Well, that’s at least what everyone thought. We were high school sweet hearts. The apple of each others eye. The pop to each others tart. Blah blah blah. Well, I think you get the point

John Schexsnider was his name. Seventeen, five feet and eleven inches tall, he was a jock. I can’t say I was at the bottom of the popularity ranking, but I sure didn’t hang out with the beauty pageant, lip-gloss carrying, teachers pets. I would say I was somewhere in the middle. Alyssa Morgan, straight C student, 1996 spelling bee champion at Cambridge High. I was known around town because my mom worked at the local cafe, Mindy’s.

* * * * *


My dad had died when I was two years old. My mom never spoke too much about him. She said it’s to hard; so I just didn’t ask any questions afraid she would start crying. Little did I know that I would later regret not asking those questions.

I’m a little insecure but almost-always get through the tough times. My mom said when dad died I ran up to her at the funeral, and clung around her neck saying, “its ok mommy, everything will be ok. We could spend more time together now!”

That’s how I got the title as Angle. Not pronounced how it looks though. Because I was truly mommy’s little Angle. The name has stuck ever since that moment. My mom only calls me by Alyssa when I’m in trouble.

One day I awoke in the hospital. John called in the nurses and as they ran in he leaned over me and said, “Don’t worry Angle everything is gonna be fine. Your mom is in the room across the hall."

I didn’t know who he was, much less who I was.

I opened my eyes a little wider and said in a tone that was a little louder than a whisper, “Where am I? Who am I? Who are you, and who are all these people?” I didn’t know whether to be scared or confused! Then I spoke up, “why am I here? I’m scared! They’re hurting me! OUCH!”

John leaned over me once more and said in a hush tone, “Your in the hospital Alyssa. I’m John do you remember me? I’m your boy friend. You were in a bad car accident. I’ll explain more about that later, when you calm down some. Ok? Just relax. These nice people will help you get better, but for now you just need to rest.” He walked out of the room, leaving it at that.

I think they injected something in me to make me sleepy because that’s mostly all I remember of that day.

* * * * *

The next morning I awoke screaming. They said I was crying and sweating in my sleep and that everything was going to be alright and to just relax. I had a window sill full of flowers and get well cards. Half of them from people I had talked to once. Ha-ha! I didn’t know I was that important. I had just smiled for the first time in god knows how long!

They still hadn’t said anything about my mother, and my memory was coming back. I could remember my name. My nickname. My mom’s name, Sara Morgan. I could remember John. But I couldn’t get out of my head ‘what happened and how is my mother.’

The doctor came in and explained to me that I was in a car accident and they had to amputate my left leg. At that point I lifted the covers slightly, hoping I would wake up to find that I was just in a bad dream. But that dream all of a sudden became reality.

The next thing they told me was that my mom was in a coma and they were afraid she wouldn’t wake up. I was scared at that point. Not that I wasn’t scared before but at that point I became truly and genuinely scared. For my health and for my sanity. It was true. Everything bad that could happen, happened.

* * * * *

I wanted to give up. I wanted to give up right then and there. I was so out of control they had to have three doctors and five nurses just to get me back in my bed. But I refused to do it. I wanted to see my mom and that’s what I was going to do. I had my sights set on that door knob across the hall from where the doctors and nurses were wrestling me into my bed.

I think the only reason they didn’t let me see my mom is because they were scared it would creep me out and drive me under. Looking back I’m happy they didn’t let me see her, because if that’s the reason why they wouldn’t let me go see her they were 100% right.

After a while they didn’t mention my mom and I kind of stopped asking questions about her and the accident. I don’t think I really and truly wanted to face reality that my mom had died. Not physical kind of dead, but the mental.

* * * * *


Finally, when they did let me see my mom I realize that she wasn’t the happy-go-luck mother I had used to know. She couldn’t even feed herself. They decided to take her off of life support. I never mentioned her again until now. It’s always been kind of hard for me.

* * * * *
The funeral came when I was finally out of the hospital and well into three months of physical therapy to learn how to use my crutch and walk using only one leg. It was very hard but I would learn over time. Well, that’s at least what they told me. They being my physical therapy trainers.

Was it hard watching my mom being buried? Yah, it was. But it was my mom, I mean come on, I had to go to her funeral. I just thought of it as a good thing; my mom and dad are together now, dancing with all the real Angles up there in heaven.

I was in a state of depression for a while after that which is when I quit living with John and started living with Gran and Gramps. They were always so lively. But I’m telling you, once you hit the age of sixty-eight, I’m sure your body slows down a bit huh?

* * * * *

Well I’m sure your wondering how my dad died right? Well, that’s a question even I don’t know. I never really had a chance to ask my mom that.

One day, we when we were going through my moms old things, we found trinkets, old clothes, and inside one of the old sweaters my mom used to always ware was a folded up letter labeled : Angel. I was baffled. Why hadn’t my mom given it to me before? Before I could unfold it I grabbed John and we ran chasing each other up the stairs to my room hoping no adults would see us.

* * * * *

When we finally got to my room after what seemed like ages, I quickly unfolded the note and read it aloud. On it read the following;


Dear Angle aka: Alyssa,

If you are reading this right now I am either gone or you are being nosey and going through my stuff. I better not catch you. But the real reason I am writing this to you is because I want to explain to you what happened to your father.

As you know already, when you were two years old your father died. I have never told you how because I was scared of the pain and grieve it would bring to you. But I have come to a conclusion that if you would like to find out what happened to your father you will have to do a little detective work yourself because im afraid I even don’t know the real cause of death.
I Love You and Miss You Already,
Your Mommy

* * * * *

We just sat there for a while and thought of what my mom could’ve meant. I wonder….
At that point I grabbed his arm and we both ran not knowing where to go.

* * * * *

When we got to the grave yard we set out to find the two graves where my mom and dad were buried together. When we found them the Head Stones said “With my family and friends I leave peace and comfort! Not despair and hatred! Celebrate my welcoming to heaven by loving each other unconditionally!” I unfolded the letter one more time and smiled, then started to cry I really couldn’t hold it back anymore. I realized right then and there that it really didn’t matter how or why my parents went so early. I was just happy that they were together now.

* * * * *

Tears streamed down my grandparents face when I told them how my mom left a note meant for me to find when she died. In my opinion, they took it pretty hard. I will always wonder how my dad died and why god had taken them so early. But I will never forget the generosity and love of the people around me.

For my whole life people never thought much of me and my family. It hasn’t changed much. I now live with my friend Mary who helped me get through the times of hate and despair. I have three kids who were all adopted. I don’t think I will ever forget my great friends and family who were with me the whole time. Thank you for reading. J J J J

Publication Date: 02-18-2010

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