Rose's War With The Opposite Gender

Chapter 1~ The News That Changed It All

Chapter 1

The telephone slipped from my hand and onto the floor, smashing into thousands of pieces- just like my heart. A lone tear slipped from eyes, slowly trailing down my cheek, followed by another and another till I was gushing tears. I screamed my lungs outs, angry and frustrated at God. How could this happen?

Mom ran into the kitchen where I was bawling my eyes out, her eyes clouded in confusion and worry. She ran over to me, carefully avoiding the broken shards holding my shoulders.

"Rose, what's wrong honey?" I couldn't answer her. My throat felt like it had been gripped by an icy hand and I was being strangled. I just stared at my mother, tears slipping down my face. How would she react to this news? She wouldn't be able to handle it. Was it possible for her to commit suicide after hearing it? Maybe. I definitely would in her position. Then what would happen to me?

"Rose! Who called?" she asked, now shaking me gently. Her eyes were wide. Just like his eyes would've been when it happened. This thought made me scream and I slid down onto the floor, not caring about all the sharp plastic on the floor and I started gushing out tears again. I hiccupped. Why him? What did he ever do? He loved God, had faith in him. "Always believe in God," he would tell me. "In the end, he's all we have." His dedication and devotion to Him outshone even the vicar. And to repay him for his love, God done this? God was a pretty sick person.

I glanced at my mother, my vision quite blurry through my tears. She had started crying. Mom deserved to know. She knew him and loved him the most after all.

"D-D-Dad..." I managed to say before erupting into wails.

"What happened to Mark, honey?! He's not hurt, is he?!" she asked. There was a wild look in her eyes, eager to know. Just tell her already!

"Dad's dead. He was killed in war by an Afghan bomb," I whispered softly in a hollow voice. I kept my eyes downcast. Tears didn't threaten to spill anymore. Saying the two horrible words had shaken me to my core. I waited for my mom to start crying, but it never came. Instead, after a few seconds of silence, she started yelling at me.

"That's a cruel prank, Rose Dawson! How dare you such a thing? Dad's fine! You hear me?! You just want attention, you little brat!" My mom had a manic look on her face. She couldn't accept the fact.

"I'm not lying!" I yelled back at the top of my voice. "Why would I lie about something so devastating!? He did die! Dad's gone! Dead!" My face was red with anger and my fists were clenched. I was breathing hard. Mom looked petrified, shocked, angry and devastated at the same time. She was going through emotional turmoil. But do you know what? I don't give a fuck. My dad's dead and my mom was accusing me of terribly atrocious things. It was too much to handle. I stood up, walked out of the room, making sure to slam the door loudly on my way out, before I ran to my room.

When I walked in to my room, I saw the picture of me and Dad on my dressing table and held it delicately. It had been taken 5 ½ years ago, when I was around 11. I was sitting on Dad's shoulder, while he was grinning as if he won the lottery. We were in the park.

I remember the day like it was yesterday. It had been 2 days after dad had been back from Afghanistan and I had forced him to make up for the 2 months he had been absent, so he took me to Hyde Park for a picnic. It was a delicious picnic. Dad had always been a brilliant chef. He should've made cooking his career instead of being a soldier. Then he wouldn't have been absent for half of my life and he wouldn't have been dead. He said he was going to retire at the end of the year... But it was too late now.

I stroked the picture with my thumb before hugging it to my chest. "Oh Dad, why did you have to leave?"