Hopeless Situation

Prologue

There's this saying that life can either give you everything you want, or take away everything you have. So many people believe it. So many have said something along the lines of 'yeah' or 'I know right'. But I'm thinking, do they know? Do they know the true meaning behind those words, or do they just think they know?

Well, I know that I know. 100% sure.

But I wish I didn't, because knowing has disadvantages.

Like right now, when I'm feeling like everything I had, everything I felt, has just been ripped away from me.

I'm staring at the dirty tiled floor of the hospital as I hold my dad's hand. Except, I don't know if it's my dad's anymore. Not when instead of being warm and loving, it's cold and dead.

I listen to the continuous wreaking sobs from my mother that fill the room. Why is she crying? She's the one who cheated on him, broke his heart, took his money, and ran away with her new boyfriend. All just a month ago, leaving me and dad alone. And now when she finds out dad's dead, she comes back here acting like she cares? How dare she?

Well why, I feel like screaming at her, didn't you care when you left us alone and broke, especially when you knew dad's condition!

My dad loved her. I always could tell. Even when I talked trash about her after she left, which I always did, he would just scold me and say, 'She's your mother no matter what, she's not a bad person'. I'd reply as, 'Not a bad person? How can you say that?'

But I knew that dad was never one to disrespect. He always saw the good in everything. No wonder he fell for her.

A tap on my shoulder pulls me out of my thoughts and brings me back to reality.

I look up to see a middle aged nurse smiling sadly at me. "Are you okay?" she asks.

What a stupid question. "Does it look like I'm okay?" I snap at her.

She startles, openly gaping at me before scurrying out of the room.

I sigh heavily as the door quietly closes. I know she was only trying to help, but reminding me of where I am doesn't exactly help.

I turn to face my dad lying on the bed. He looks so peaceful and young, so different from how a frown of stress would always settle, that I wonder if it's for the best. All those months of chemotherapy had really taken a toll on him. Maybe it's better if he's not in pain anymore.

I try to convince myself of it, but it's too hard. I don't want to admit that I'm relieved because I'm not.

I don't want him to go and leave me alone in this world. I want him to stay. I want him to continue warmly greeting me after every school day. I want him to always be there to be a shoulder to cry on when I feel sad. I want him to continue tucking me in after every night. I want him to always knock some common sense into me when I'm being stupid. I want him continuing being my dad.

I glance at my mum, who's still sobbing quietly, and then at my dad as the realisation hits me full force.

My daddy is gone.

He surrendered to cancer unknowingly.

He's never, ever coming back.

For the first time in a very long time, I let the weight of it all crash onto me, as I burst into tears.

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