The youngest of all the sisters, Angel felt the wrath the worst. She was rebellious, autonomous, irreverent, mocking even. The scar that ran across her back, from the right shoulder down, was a vivid reminder of the battles she had to endure. Her sisters tried to protect her as much as they could; they hid her in the attic, took her food and cleaned her wounds. However, she refused to turn away from the beast, as they called their mother, a beast filled with anger and irrationality, slashing their father’s belt against Angel’s back, thighs, arms; this cynical gesture would also hurt her weak father, a man who never stood up for his daughters. While she was still very young, Jill showed up one day. Angel was hiding out in the old oak tree. Her sister grabbed her by the wrist, no packing, no hesitating, and took off with her. They never went back. Then she rebelled against Jill too, overstepping boundaries, breaking rules and dying more and more in a parallel and hazy world of an excess of drugs. When Patty called her, she said no. However, her Master, a wise man who was determined to bring her back to life and who saw much farther beyond the pain, teaching her the meaning of trust, told her to go. And she understood.
The image that inspired this story has been resized to fit the slideshow’s photo dimensions of this blog. I strongly recommend viewing its original size!