Chapter 4- The Old Story Why
This hallway was filled with pictures. I looked at all them as we walked. But, when we got to a certain picture, I stopped. This picture was of me. Me, Veronica, Monica, Our Aunt Jane, and our grandma Connie. I don't know how long I stood there staring at it, but Gwen hugged me, putting her arms around my shoulders. "Are you going to be okay?" she asked. I nodded, scared that if I opened my mouth, my voice would crack. My grandma had died 3 months ago. She had dropped me off at the nail salon to get my nails done for my friend's party and when she was coming to pick me up, some guy was driving like a moron and hit her. She died instantly. That's what the police told my sister once they were able to identify her. I cried for weeks. I still do. I loved her and somehow, I wasn't sure if I was the same person without her. I stopped everything. I stopped playing the flute, the piano, I stopped writing, I stopped dancing, and I even stopped singing. The first few days, I didn't eat, but my Aunt Jane said that if I didn't eat, I was going to end up where my grandma was. At the time, I was okay with it. Dying. Everybody acts as if dying is such a terrible thing, but I went to church every single day and I believed that if God thinks it's time, then its time. I wouldn't fight it. Yea, I would miss everything I didn't get to do and everyone that I loved, but my back- up answer is that, it's not up to you. Sometimes, you just need to learn that things happen for a reason. I had to believe that. Her son, my dad, died of a heart attack in his sleep from an enlarged heart. Me and my sisters were getting ready for school one day and Veronica, the oldest sister, noticed that dad wasn't snoring, like his usual. Veronica stepped over and shook his shoulder lightly telling him it was time to get up and asking if he was okay. When she didn't get an answer she started freaking out. That's when Monica got out of the shower and came into the room with a towel wrapped around her. Veronica told her what was going on and then went back to trying to wake him up. Monica started crying and after a few seconds she ran into grandma's room to wake her up and get help. Grandma came running into our room and started CPR on him. She yelled at one of us to call 911, and Veronica ran downstairs to call. When stuff started coming up dad's mouth, Monica left the room in tears. She went down by Veronica and just waited. Grandma kept doing CPR until the paramedics came and took over. I just watched. Telling God that this wasn't happening. That it was all just a nightmare and I would soon wake up. I didn't cry until we got to the hospital. Awhile later, they had told us the news.
I never thought that anything good would come out of your father's death. But, about 6 years later, my mother had told me that he was never my father. She said that she had told me at his funeral, but that I probably just had forgotten. Pathetic. Her lies. I forgave her though, but I'm still waiting on an explanation. But just because I found out that I had a new father, a biological father to be exact, it didn't mean that I didn't still love my dad. He loved me and took care of me and I knew that he would still love me if he was still alive.
That's when I was brought out of my trance. "Look, I'm no Dr.Phil, but if you need anybody to talk to, I'm here," she said, wanting to smile but trying not to ruin the moment. I laughed. "Thanks," I said, "Now, where are we going?" I asked. Just as I finished my sentence, my stomach answered my question. I looked up at Gwen and she smiled. She took a hold of my hand and dragged me around the corner and down a flight of stairs. When we reached the bottom, she went through a door and to my surprise, we were in the kitchen. And as I looked at the guy sitting at the table, my stomach flipped.
