Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"DAD Ican tell when he's tired Ican tell when he's stressed Itell him to take one moment, just one Just to rest, and he never listens
I get it, but that doesn't mean I like it I mean, it's hard watching him like that For years, I've watched him drown himself in politicalconflict and work
Now, he's a Councilor I just hopeit's a good thing that he is Maybe he can make some improvements
My dad has a good heart He can open his mind when asked to I have faith that he'll do what's right Or that he'll at least try
He works a lot, but he'sstill there for me and my mom I'm grateful I know he does it for us To give us everything
I love my dad So much Even if I don't say it out loud all the time I really should more often"
. . . . .
It was never this soon when North thought she would be standing over such a regal casket that held her own father inside.
Never this soon.
Moisture gathered in her eyes as they stared down at the unmoving body belonging to her loved one, his eyes closed and his hands propped to rest on his stomach.
She only held it together for her mother who stood to the side of the casket, holding her hand over her trembling lips.
For the enforcers who had gathered for the ceremony, watching her every move.
For Vi, who stood somewhere among the crowd with a sorrowful frown and guilt glimmering in her eyes.
It was surreal. It was surreal to believe that North's father would not open his eyes. That he would not arise. That he had no fight in him left and no more life to live.
