I carried my heavy feet up the damp cement stairs. Everything was happening too soon. I pictured my little boy... sitting by the window... watching... waiting for his mother to walk through the rusty door. I squeezed my eyes tightly, trying not to think about it. Hot, salty tears stained my discolored face. With the little breath I had left, I pushed my lifeless body up the last flight of stairs. Pushing the heavy door …showed first 75 words of 666 total…

…showed last 75 words of 666 total…do the same but if you try hard enough, you both can get through it." He voice was so strong. I looked down at the ground and wiped away the tears and looked up again. He was gone. My hero... my guardian angel left me. All I heard was a soft voice murmured in the wind "love him." I walked over to the door and whispered, "thank you," and headed home to see my son.