I drove my ragged pick-up to our old town house. I can still hear her voice in my head, her last words. "Please tell me you’re proud of me Papa".She drifted into eternal slumber right after I said those words.
I banged my palm on the steering wheel furiously. Why did she have to die so soon? I can’t believe I lived longer than her.I parked my pick-up in our garage. Things feel different now. Going home with no one to greet me.
Dragging my feet to the front porch, I sat on the steps and gazed at our front yard. This is where I taught little Lizzie how to ride a bike. I pursed my lips as I remembered that moment. More memories flooded my mind and it hurts to remember each one. I wish my wife was here. ..but she traded her life for a pair of angel wings 8 years ago. Breast cancer.
I slowly got up and unlocked the front door. I walked into the simple house my wife designed and built. She was an architect. I sat on the old sofa in our living room and stared at the ceiling. Maybe if I stay quiet, I can hear her Lizzie’s voice again. She will come here and give me a kiss on the cheek like she always did. I heard our door creak open. I forgot to lock it!
I groped around for my gun in the drawer of the side table. Just because I’m an economist doesn’t mean I can’t handle a gun. I positioned myself and slowly moved closer to the door. I stopped dead on my tracks. I couldn’t believe that this person is standing before me.
BINABASA MO ANG
Elizabeth Fern
Teen FictionFeel free to comment on each Chapter. tnx! It was raining that day. People all stared at me, as if they’re waiting for me to break down. Truth is, I really do want to cry my heart out but I can’t. I can’t even speak. It’s as if there’s a huge lump i...
