The Day - Original Writing

My mom called me to a family meeting,I wandered down the stairs knowing that he had been sick but I never thought that this could have ever befallen upon me.When I walked into the living room tears ran down my moms face like the rain rolling down the window. I new what had transpired but I still would not accept the truth, I kept saying NO! NO! NO! But There was nothing I could do It felt like the walls were closing in, then I realized that he was in a better place and that his memories would always stay with me in my actions and words.

I could not walk near the window. That was a rule, because they were afraid that I would fall out of the window. On one of these walks, mom started by saying “You probably want to know the fire about the fire, right?” I pushed the oxygen tank ahead of me which was my way of saying yes without speaking. Mom understood and started telling the story: how the fire started, where exactly it started, the normal stuff. I had been wondering why dad had not visited me, and now I know. Dad was dead. He died while saving me. He threw me out of our burning house. But just as it happened a burning section of the wall caved in on him so he had do escape. No more building projects, jokes at the dinner table, or Dad at football games. The firefighters found his body, resting against me in his office. He knew that he needed oxygen, but he let me live by not taking the oxygen and giving it to me. I felt the sting. I killed my

“Mom, please help!” I shouted through the house. Through the eyes of a ten year old getting ready for school, I hear my father gasping for air, I ran to his aid in panic. Discovering him in sweat and discomfort, I watched him in terror clutching his hand so tight in a fist across his chest dissolving in pressure and pain. My mother getting ready for another long day of work and my two older brothers already gone for school, I felt all alone. I acted quickly trying to do as much as a ten year old knew how to but, I soon realized it was out of my hands the body covered in sweat with hands that were clenched a second ago went limp his forehead and gaze felt cold and vanished . I lost my father. I felt helpless as my mother called 911 for help. I laid next to my father and promised that I never want to feel this helpless again.

I have always been fascinated by the human body and how it works, even when life no longer exists within it. I, myself have never had to deal with the death of a loved one, but I have been to my fair share of funerals. On many occasions, I have had to prepare myself for what lies beneath the doors of the neatly polished caskets. I remember the very first time I had to go to a funeral, I was ten years old and a very good family friend of ours had passed away. I had dressed in my very best that day, my family and I approached the closed doors of the visitation room. Nothing had prepared me for what was in store for me beyond those doors. Sobs and cries flooded through the slow opening doors, with a wave of cold air that showered over me. Everyone was dressed in nicely pressed suits and straight black dresses, and there between the passing crowds of people I could see it, the freshly polished wood casket. My mother turned to me and stated “You can sit in the car with your brother if you want, you don’t have to see this if you don’t want to.” I looked deep into her tear-filled eyes and blinked rapidly. After considering the option, she had given me I relied slowly “It’s okay, I can handle this. I want to say goodbye too.” I approached the casket cautiously with the fear of the unknowing. Once I reached the side of the casket I peered down at my beloved elder, but I wasn’t frightened. I knew she was no longer living because of the slight discoloration to her skin, but she looked so happy. Her makeup was done so flawlessly and she was dressed in her Sunday best with her arms across her stomach clutching a bouquet of flowers which filled the surrounding area. She was so beautiful, I then glanced back at everyone in the area, some sitting and some standing off to the side all of them had the same look on their faces. They all looked so pained, I just could not understand why. She was the lucky one she was able to

Trying to be strong-minded, I asked to go back to school three days after my dad 's death. I remember getting on the bus and everyone 's eyes were on my siblings and I. Life had gone on the same around us, but yet everything in my family 's life had changed drastically. I remember when I first sat down and the girl in front of me named Zoey turned around to speak to me. She was several years younger than I and lacked a filter as so many innocent children do. She looked at me and asked, "How did your dad die?" I remember immediately feeling overheated and while I had been trying hard to act like nothing had changed, I felt that a bus had slammed into me again. I felt sadness the most in my dad 's death; but I also felt a strong sense of

The wind whistled through the dark night as I waited for my mom’s car to pull into the school parking lot. Soon, it was just me under the glow of the gym door light. I called my mom. No answer. After dialing his number, my dad’s voice came across my phone saying he would be there in a few minutes. Eventually I was climbing into the truck covered in concrete dust, evidence of my dad’s long day at work.

I rip my covers off my bed, throw my legs off the side, and rub my tired eyes. I start down the hallway, and find that the front door is hanging wide open. Beer bottles, and cigarette butts are sprawled out on the livingroom floor. I make my way out to the front porch, to find my mom swaying back and forth on her wooden rocking chair, staring at where my dad’s car usually is. “Where’s daddy?” I mumble. My mom slowly turns her head in my direction, and looks at me with glossy eyes. Something isn’t right. Without muttering a word, she motions for me to come sit down in her lap. I shuffle towards her, knowing what I’m about to hear isn’t going to be good. She brushes through my hair with her trembling fingers and begins to apologize. “Daddy left early this morning; I don’t know where he drove off to, but he told me to tell you that he loves you very much honey.” I began to tear up because I knew exactly what had happened. I learned what divorce was in that conversation my mother. I learned what my dad truly was: an alcoholic, and a drug addict. I learned that he chose a temporary high over his own family. Over me. I learned that I couldn’t trust my dad ever again. He left an unseen scar that will never fade

I hopped along the cracked path towards the house. When reaching the front lawn my feet struggled to wade through a jungle of plants. But soon enough they were free and the front door greeted me with peeling paint fingers, I twisted the handle but it wouldn’t budge. My knuckles pounded on the door “Gus!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. Tapping my foot while waiting for a response. Then heavy footsteps approached the door and the handle twisted, opening the door to reveal my dad towering above me. His eyes were distant and his face was pale and drooping. He wore the same tattered black shirt he always wore. “Hello Lars” he said in a deep raspy voice. “Hi dad” my voice squeaked in comparison. I quickly scurried past him towards the kitchen

Pulling into the driveway, dark, shadowed lights on in the man cave; I picked out Dad sitting alone with nothing but the TV on. Bothered by life, he was escaping his problems by going out there every night. He knew he had to say something soon, but he didn’t want us to worry. I had a massive load of anxiety during this mess. The difficulty of putting my opinion into this situation put me into depression.

I looked for my dad i screamed and cried when i found him. His body was halfway out the window and halfway in the car. He was bleeding bad. I looked around me then I saw it. Me I was on the floor. Dead.

The summer was starting and my mother was getting sicker by the day. My summer job was grounds keeping at a golf course from five-thirty in the morning until two in the afternoon. During my lunch breaks, I would drive home and eat lunch with my mom. I would always be a couple of minutes late coming back but it was well worth it. Since my mom was not doing well the doctors said she could not go on a trip to Atlanta to see her first niece get married. For twenty-six years she looked forward to seeing her dead brother’s daughter’s wedding. Needless to say she was heartbroken.

Right after saying those words I thought I would have never had to use, I lost it. I felt like it was the end. In my head something was telling me “Your dad is going to die.” I didn’t want to believe but I knew there was a chance it would be true. When the paramedics finally came I was so scared. They asked where my mom was. I may have been 6 years old but I knew exactly where she was, and I knew she wouldn’t be able to be back by the time my dad made it to the hospital.

Every morning I still wake up thinking that she is there drinking her tea in her room , watching tv. Then suddenly the truth comes rushing up to me and I realize that it is just a dream hanging around me still, and a cold despair fall upon me. I feel empty inside. My mother’s death was a really sobering experience I’ve passed through. It was the most devastating loss in my life.

The smell of a dirty old medical facility mixed with the constant noise of beeping coming from throughout the hospital created a very depressing atmosphere. The nurse then led us to the room dad was in. While we were there, the nurse talked for what seemed like 3 years, but I couldn’t stop gazing at my father. He looked like he had gotten in a fight with an angry stray cat! He had cuts on his face and arms, scratches on his leg, and his head was covered in a huge bruise that spanned from his left eyebrow passed his hairline. He had an IV hooked up to his wrist and an oxygen tube set up to his nostrils. I had never seen him like this before. I couldn’t express how I felt into words. I felt the tears forming back in my eye again, but this time I didn’t hold anything back. My eyes were waterfalls streaming down my expressionless red face.

I heard a gruff voice come out of the speakers in the room. I quickly recognized my dad through the window. I smiled at him his black hair covering his blue eyes. He looked at me flustered “did i tell you, you could watch tv!”. I quickly fluttered my eyes in shock and turned it off quickly still holding my teddy bear “i'm sorry father”. He threw a food tray under the door and i quickly ate it.