STORY OF MY LIFE

PART 1

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'Words are keys to our hearts,deepest thoughts...

Secrets are the words you share with someone you trust...''

My life started off pretty good.I had a wonderful family and even though we didn't have much money we had each other.

My sister and I were the babies of the family,followed by a older sister and brother.My mom was a house wife and my dad -a under paid engineer,we lived in a small town which is almost impossible to find on any map.

Now when you small you think nothing will ever change,your family-no matter how irritating or loud -will always be there,will always have your back and will always support you.

Never does it cross your mind that in a moment,a tiny second everything could change.
This is what happened in my case .

I was eight years old at the time,my twin sister and I had just woken up.Once our morning routine was completed we ventured off to play.

''Andy?ANDY?!"I heard my mother scream.

You see my father,Andy had just gotten home the previous day from the hospital ,I don't quit remember why though.I remember that we hadn't seen him for a long time before this day and he got home pretty late the night before and went straight to bed.
That morning my mom had been making up some grub for my dad ,when she noticed he had difficulty breathing.

From there everything seemed as if I was watching TV ,a simple scene from some dramatic flick.Everything seemed to be playing out in slow mode -the people around me moving frantically, my mothers hysterical cries and my brothers expression of utt-most terror .

I was frozen.

My neighbours came over to console myself and my twin sister,we were eight so we had no clue what was going on.I can still remember their faces filled with fake calmness,offering us useless smiles of reassurance,but I knew,I knew something bad was going to happen ,and in that moment I was right.

The on-call doctor drove past our house,but didn't stop.
My father,the man who loved me,took me on adventures,read to me,showed me nothing but loved was gone.
He had suffered a blood clot ,the doctor was too late.
He was gone.
Forevermore...

I know you must be thinking ,how is this so terrible tragic,lots of people lose thier fathers young,or don't even know them,how could your case be any different?
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They say when tragidy strikes ,move on because grieving is all you can do.So thats was I tried to do.
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At first I thought my family was tricking my ,that one day my dad would walk in the old wooden front door and everyone woud have a good laugh about how I got taken for a fool.
It didn't happen.

Once the day of the funeral arrived I knew in my heart he was gone .I refused to attend the funeral,I thought that if I didn't go it wouldn't have to be real,it wouldn't.

I was taken to the car kicking and screaming.

It really sucked,you know,everyone knew I was a daddy's girl.
I remember following him around ,trying to be just like him.

I watched as they brought the coffin out of the church and lowered it into the ground.
I refushed to cry.

But it was unevedable.

Now even though I don't remember the sound of his voice eight years later,or the way he looked or how his hugs felt ,I close my eyes,I can hear a very distant laugh,its sounds like a melody ringing in my ears and I cry again

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