Just take of

I.

Previously:

I threw myself on the bed and started crying. Dad and I had just come from the hospital. And my mom... she was dead... hit by some drunk driver. Such people should not even be allowed to drive. How can they even give them licenses? I didn't know what to do... I loved her; she was always good to me... she definitely didn't deserve this. Why her? Dad hasn't said anything to me since. It was Saturday, and I wanted to look at the clock in my room, but I couldn't see anything because of the tears welling up in my eyes. I wiped them on the sleeve of my black sweatshirt. 20:20. I don't know why, but I remembered that 20:20 is our favorite number, mine and mom's. More tears welled up in my eyes and I started sobbing into the pillow. It occurred to me that I was born alone; it was always me and mom against the whole world. But now she was gone, I was alone, and I didn't know what to do. It's like my meaning in life had ended. All I felt was emptiness, a deep black hole. I was falling into it; I didn't have the strength to do anything or get up. I just lay there, hugging my pillow and sobbing, too overwhelmed by the emptiness. All my memories of her started replaying in my head. It was like watching a video player in my mind. I remembered our trips to the meadow, our movie nights, and how my mother always talked fascinatingly about the book she had just read, to the point where I felt like I had read it with her. All those memories put a smile on my face. I was awakened from my recollection by a loud bang. I didn't know what it could be, so I dried my tears on my sweatshirt again and left the room to find out what it was. I entered the bedroom where the sound was coming from. "Dad, what happened here?" I tried to stay calm, but my voice still trembled. In the bedroom, there was always mom's bookcase, which was now lying on the floor. Before I could recover from the shock, dad grabbed my wrist tightly. "Ouch! Daddy, let me go, it hurts!" I felt a bruise forming on my hand. "Do you see what you've done?! You'll clean it up right away, is that clear to you?!" My gaze alternated between the bookcase and my dad. "But I didn't do anything." "Is that clear to you?" he repeated slowly and emphatically. My eyes widened; I didn't know what was happening. I swallowed before answering. "Yes." He let me go, and I took a few steps back from him. When he left, I turned and tried to pick up the bookcase. It was very heavy, and for a moment I thought it would fall on me, but I managed it. Then I put all the books back in their place, except for one. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my mother's favorite book, Just Flap Your Wings. When I was done cleaning up, I hid it under my sweatshirt and was headed back to my room when I saw my dad sitting at the table. "Are you okay?" I asked worriedly, knowing it was a stupid question. Just a moment ago, he had been holding me by the arm; I could still feel it. Moreover, the woman he loved had died. He fixed an angry look on me. "Why the hell are you worried? Have you cleaned up? Then get out of the room!" he yelled at me. I turned and quickly walked back to my room. I slammed the door behind me, stood behind it for a moment, and looked around the room. I hid the book under my clothes in the closet and threw myself on the bed. When I looked at the clock again, it was midnight. In shock, I sat on the bed and decided to go take a shower since I had a bathroom in my room. I went into the bathroom, took off my clothes, put them on the shelf, and got into the shower. I took a cold shower to wash away all the events of the day. I first thought about my mother's death. Surely she wouldn't want me to keep crying... I finished my shower, turned off the light, and went to sleep. That's enough for today.