The funeral was heartbreaking. I stood holding my fathers hand the whole time, crying in to his sleeve. I looked up at him as tears streamed down his face, slipping down and falling on my black, leather shoes.
"I am dreadfully sorry for your loss. You must be so strong, coping with her murder and becoming a single parent to a seven year old child with brain problems! You must be proud, god bless you." I heard a man say to my father, he sniffed and thanked the man politely before we took our leave.
"Daddy," I began. "Where are we going now?"
"We're going home, princess."
"Can Carlos come?"
"Who's Carlos, sweetie?"
"He's my imaginary friend." I said. "He died just like mummy."
"I'm sorry to hear that sweetie."
"When I get home, will I have to have that icky medicine?" I asked, making a sick gesture. My father chuckled slightly, quickly returning to his sad gaze.
"Yes, it helps you get better."
"But I'm fine, daddy. I just want to help sick people."
"I know, dear. You can start by helping yourself." He said, that faint smile reappearing on his face.
"Okay, daddy. Just one more question?"
"Of course, love."
"Who killed mummy?"
THE END
YOU ARE READING
The Runaway Dreamers
AdventureWhen Saffron witnesses what she recognises as her father murdering her own mother at the age of 7, she instantly runs away from the scene and goes in to hiding. She finds a boy slightly older than her and they immediately become friends. The two of...
