My Father 's Birthday - Original Writing

I would like to talk about celebration of my 36th birthday. October 20th was a regular Friday mooring for me. I was a bit nervous because I had the final exam of my Psychology class, I felt ready and prepared but tense at the same time plus the morning traffic was not helping at all, on my mind the only thoughts were “I don’t want to be late, I don’t want to be late”. After my exam I felt so happy, all my worries flew away, I knew I had done a good job, I felt it in my guts. My professor said good bye and that was it, no more stress for the weekend, I was ready to start the celebration of my birthday.

I slipped beneath the surface of the pool of grain, my hands sticking straight up over my head as I held my breath, preparing for death. I was preparing for the world to go silent. This was the exact situation my father had warned me about, and I had fallen victim to it despite that. Fourteen years old as of two months ago, and death had already come for me. Or so I thought. I felt firm, callused hands grasp my own, plucking me from my grave. The relief was wonderful. I drank the air in, filling my burning lungs with as much as possible. I almost laughed out of sheer happiness – until my eyes met my father’s.

We walk back to the shelters to get some sleep, and I sit there awake for a minute until my father falls asleep. In the morning when I awake, my father is very sick, so I take him to the doctor. The doctor rejects to help because he is a surgeon. I take my father back to the shelter to let him rest some more. I leave him to go outside to get more coffee. I think back to all the things me and my father have been through. Losing my mother and sister will always reply through my head, remembering them holding hands and moving off to the left, and my father holding onto my hand, and we walking away from them. The last thing I got to do was just look into there eyes and turn and walk away. Once I got back I found my father not there. I knew where he had gone, they had taken him to the furnace. I dropped to the floor wanting to cry, wanting to have a fit like a normal teenager. Deep into his feelings he thought “Free at last.” He was free to only think about surviving, and not to worry about anyone but himself. I will miss my father. I love him. I will never forget how much he did for me, he is the reason why I am still

I walked towards the Bleeding Heart Cemetery. The cool October wind blew against my frame, making me wish I wore a coat. I readjusted my grip on my oxygen tank. As I neared Augustus’ grave, the sun light captured the diamond ring Isaac gave me. My stomach flopped upside down. Although the wedding is in 2 weeks, I still felt unsure. I mean, who in their right minds marries their dead boyfriend’s best friend? I slipped the ring into my jean pocket. I located Augustus’ grave and sat down. I felt my stomach churn, realizing I haven’t visited him in months.

“Hold on,” he instructed through his crippled infrastructure. His rugged voice scraped the inner portions of my heart. It swept through the wind like a slit in the veil, gently moving you through.

The morning wind is as cold as ice, slicing passed my skin while I’m standing against it. It always like today of every year: cloudy, cold and sad. Like the sky is crying with me. I blend down to a tall, sleek, marble stone with the name “Amelia Bennett” written on it. That’s my mother’s name. She died when I was 7 year-old, it’s odd that I have the memories of her very clearly in my brain. Most children probably won’t. But I do, and I when I do, I missed her. I don’t even know what happened on that tragic day. I was blacked out and the next thing I remember is that she’s now laying deep underneath my feet. No one knows what happen, or no one wants to talk about it, not even my aunt. She’s the one that take me in after the accident. Why? Because

“Who?” My voice was in a whisper. I wasn’t even sure that he can hear me, and if he did then he would not understand the words I am saying because of my shaking voice.

The drive to the cemetery was the complete opposite of the drive to the synagogue. There was paranoia every time my parents didn’t have a perfect view of the hearse. Shouting broke out when we had to halt at a red light. Four years later, I still haven’t suffered such a hectic car ride. Relief passed through me when we finally reached the cemetery. I was now surrounded by the semi-familiar faces from earlier that morning along with a funeral director.

Death awaits everybody, there is no running, there is no escaping. You come, you live, you die.

“We need to talk,” you say quietly with an eager face, **looking around as if scared to be seen with me. You walk away fast, **looking down at your feet slapping the ground.

It was so devastating to get the news, that night my aunt had been in charge of caring for him overnight, she felt so guilty as if it were her fault. I’d been the first one up every morning and so I received a call from my aunt crying barely being able to speak, “Amy he’s gone, I’m sorry”. It was a Friday morning, that Friday morning that marked my life forever. As I informed my parents, it was difficult my mother shed to pieces and hurried to the hospital. Despite the loss, I went to school with no strength. Physically I was there, however but mentally I was not, all I thought about is our last words the night before and my promise to never give

I sniffle and look towards the door. The door knob is twisting back and forth, but it isn’t opening thanks to my lock and the heavy chair I had put against the door. Chills run down my spine. I feel the goosebumps starting to gather up all over my body, and it feels like someone is sucking out all the happiness existing in this world. One thing is taking over me - fear.

She made one more attempt at conversation. “I don’t know who you are, but you need to leave.” Remembering her manners, she added, “Please. You might have died here, but you don’t belong here any longer. It’s time for you to move on. Do you see a bright light anywhere? If you do, you need to walk into the light. Your loved ones will be waiting for you there.”

There's a quick pause. "Okay I give up, who'd she'd get?" The second voice asks, right before I hear the doors open.

Gasping, Fresh air fills my lungs. Bitter cold, I open my eyes, a blinding white room occupies my