In everyone’s life, there’s a hero somewhere. My hero was Duane. He was always there if I needed help, ever since I started school. It’s hard though, when you have to let go. It started one time when I was on the farm with my dad. Duane was my step-dad. I guess my real dad is closer to me. See, my parents broke up a long time ago. I always gave my mum hugs and stuff at the time. But as time went on and I learnt more about what actually happened, I drifted over to my dad's side. Anyway, my dad, brothers, step-mum and I always go to this farm place each Christmas, as a holiday. I always enjoyed it; it was where I could really be me.
The news had come unexpectedly. My step-mum, Elisa, called us up to our bedrooms because she had got a 'distressing' phone call from my mother. It was about Duane. It was about what had happened in hospital. He was extremely sick and had to have an operation in his heart. I really only dismissed it, people only die in unlucky families. I shouldn't have dismissed it though. It was serious.
The last time I had actually seen him was when he took us to the hairdressers. I always liked to go to places with him. I loved him I guess you could say. He was a fairly short plump man, but averagely plump. He had thick greying black hair. Duane was easily angered from anything that you did, but any time other than that he was smiling. He had the most wonderful heart of anyone. He always gave us special presents from Christmas and our birthday. On the last Christmas, just before he passed away, he gave me a special watch. I loved that watch and never took it off my wrist. It was slender; it was made of silver and gold. It had a whole lot of other gadgets on it as well. It was a ‘diver’s watch’. You could call it that considering that it had a water resistance of up to 100 meters. The watch has its own story. One time it was lost and couldn’t be found. However, recently, I found it again and cannot stop wearing it.
I turned and tossed that night. There was a feeling of coldness over me, as if the wind was alive listening to when everyone was sad, waiting for a time to come. He couldn’t die. When I had woken up the next morning, I didn’t know what to think. I did my usual and pulled up the book that I was reading at the time, always thinking back to what could happen. Eventually, after tossing and turning in my bed for an hour, there was a knock on the door. I swooped downstairs to see what was happening. Elisa answered. My mum walked in. She explained to us what had happened. Duane was dead.
I can remember crying all day and all that night. It was a huge shock. Bad thinks like death could actually happen to people like us. For the rest of the holiday we didn’t do much but cry. Later we had to go to his funeral. It was hell, standing up in front of at least two hundred people. I had to say a speech of some kind, I couldn’t remember what the speech actually was now, but I can definitely remember that he had a special place in my heart.
