The Funny Tale Of Agnes And Gale

1. Gale.

Ten years ago.

I'm seven years old and I'm laying down on the stretched out towel with my sister, Sydney, by my side. The sun is shining, the sky is blue, mum is laughing, dad kisses her cheek every so often, and everything is peaceful.

"Alright kids, are you ready for sandwiches?" Dad asks us enthusiastically before grabbing three ham and cheese sandwiches from our picnic basket.

Mum stares at my dad admiringly with the goofiest smile on her face. "Richard, be careful. You might drop them." She says in the most caring tone she only uses with dad, Sydney and I.

"You can trust me, honey." He says, passing a sandwich to the three of us before digging inside the basket to get himself one.

We are sitting next to the lake located near dad's farm. We always called this our happy place because whenever we find ourselves here, there's nothing but peace. You can't hear anything but my dad's horrible jokes and all of our laughter. Everything is peaceful. Everything is perfect. Everything is the way it should be.

Now.

I try so hard to keep that memory in my head. Mum tells me whenever I find myself in a bad situation, I should close my eyes and think of my happy place. My happy place will always be next to the lake by dad's farm but right now, thinking about anything that associates with dad sends another shot of pain through my heart.

Mum and I are staring at dad's limp body on the hospital bed. Mum can't stop crying. She's crying so hard that I can't tell if she's crying or screaming. It's both, I tell myself. Sydney is holding my hand so tight that I can feel my left hand going numb. She can't even look at dad. She just stares at our hands squeezed together and although she doesn't want anyone to know, my fifteen year old sister is silently crying. She's tougher than anyone knows.

I'm just in shock. I just stare at his body, waiting for him to sit up and make another horrible joke. "Did I get you guys yet?" Is something I expect him to say first thing after revealing the whole thing is a joke but I know, deep down, that's not going to happen.

Two hours ago.

Summer is almost over and I'm dreading going back to school. Don't get me wrong, being the most popular student at Jefferson High is an honour and makes everything much easier but that doesn't make school likeable. After making out with Kelly for about an hour in her room, we heard her dad come into the house so I had to find a way to sneak out of her bedroom window and rush back to my house with a serious case of blue balls before Mr. Sire catches me anywhere near his daughter.

I come into the house to find dad's car parked in the driveway, so I know I won't be able to convince Kelly to come over to my house instead.

"Hey pops!" I shout once I walk into the house but I was greeted with silence. I check the kitchen and the living room to see if he's anywhere drinking a cup of coffee and engrossed in a new book but instead, all I see is an empty table, an empty sofa, and an untouched coffee machine.

I'm about to text Kelly to come over to my place but decide to double-check upstairs first. I knock on mum and dad's door but there was still nothing. Since the door was left a little bit open, I push it all the way to find my dad. In that moment, Kelly didn't even matter. In fact, nothing mattered but my dad's lifeless body with a bottle of empty pills and a note.

"Dad!" I shout.

Nothing.

"Come on, dad!" I shout.

Nothing.

What are you doing, idiot?! Run downstairs and call 911. Or mum. Or Sydney. Don't just stand there and shout, I tell myself but my feet feels like it's stuck to the ground and my mind can't control my body.

Next thing I know, I'm screaming at my phone with 911 on the other end and I'm just holding my dad's body. Maybe if I hold him tight enough, I can squeeze the life back into him. I scream at the world. At my dad. At 911. At slow hospital vehicles for being slow. I scream at myself.

Now.

After what feels like hours but was only three minutes, a doctor comes in and advises Sydney and I to get my mum a cup of coffee because "you're mum is having a hard time" and tells us to wait for her outside. I'm mad at the doctor because she makes it seem like my dad's suicidal attempt isn't hard on Sydney and I. I don't say anything but me and Sydney, hand-in-hand, go outside and walk to the coffee machine.

I don't feel like doing anything because now thinking of a happy place doesn't work. The only thing I can think of is holding my dad's body and the bottle of pills. I'm sitting on one of the white waiting chairs, which is probably one of the most uncomfortable chairs I've ever found myself on. If you're going to make hospital chairs for grieving people to anxiously wait on, you might as well make them comfortable, you heartless doctors, I feel like screaming but I know they're the only people who can make my dad alive again.

Sydney joins me and instead of waiting for mum, she ends up drinking the coffee herself. "Mum doesn't need a cup of coffee anyways. The doctor just wanted us out of there."

"He's gone." I tell her.

"Don't say that." She argues, her voice breaking.

"Why else would they want us out, Sydney?" I ask her.

She doesn't say anything, she just stares into the cup of coffee like if she stared hard enough, she would drown in it and leave everything behind. I wonder if that's something my dad felt constantly.

We don't say anything after that. We just wait and wait and wait until we see the doctor or my mother.

An hour later, the doctor comes and she's patting my mum's back softly as she makes her way to us, crying and crying. The rest of the people gathered in the waiting room are staring and it pisses me off.

"We tried everything. There was a bit of hope but I'm afraid your dad didn't make it." The doctor tells Sydney and I.

Sydney just stares at the doctor with tears in her eyes. She looks like she's been betrayed but she's so silent.

I'm holding mum and I want to tell her it's okay but I know it's not. I don't get why people even say that when people are sad. It's not okay to be sad. It's not okay. Things are not okay. The happiest man I know just suicided and that's not okay.