Dad Essay, Research Paper It was Monday, may 1st, the first day of prom week. Prom was this coming Friday, and week we do silly things to get pumped for prom. Today started off just like any other day, little did I know that this would be start of the worst week of my life.
Dad Essay, Research Paper
It was Monday, may 1st, the first day of prom week. Prom was this coming Friday, and week we do silly things to get pumped for prom. Today started off just like any other day, little did I know that this would be start of the worst week of my life.
That morning was just like ant other morning. Of course I slept throught my alarm clock, so I woke up to the lovely sound of my mothers voice yelling at me to wake-up. I crawled into the shower, still half asleep. Got dressed, luckily today I had a softball game, so we decided to wear our uniforms to school. Did my hair, which usually consists of me just throwning it up it up into a pony-tail. Grabbed a poptart, and drove myself to school.
Mondays are the hardest days of school for me. Most of the time I?m still tired from the weekend, and when I?m not tired, I realize that it?s only Monday and I?ve got four more days of school left. But this week was different because Friday was prom and that?s all anyone was talking about. I wasn?t really excited yet, but as the day went on everyone was describing what their dress looks like, and what car they we?re driving in, and who they we?re going with.
So, by the end of the day I was getting pumped too. I loved my dress and getting dressed up for dances. The night before I talked to my dad, I said
?don?t forget, this Friday is prom and you have to come watch me get picked up and take pictures.? He wanted me to try on the dress for him, but I said ?He had to wait until Friday to get the full effect!? he laughed and said ok.
After school, I went home and got ready for my game. I was running late so by the time I got to school the whole team was on the bus ready to leave. My coach was outside waiting for me, she told me ?I couldn?t come to the game today.?
I thought it was because I was late, but she told me that my mom tried to get a hold of me at school. She didn?t want me to go to my game today, and that was all that she said.
Right when my coach told me that, tears swelled up in my eyes, my throat had a big knot in it, and I asked ?do you know if it has anything to do with my dad??
You see, earlier this year my dad wa in the hospital. He got really sick, they said ?he had less than 10% chance of living, and that he was brian dead.?
But no matter what the doctors said, I know that it wasn?t time for him to go, and the thought of him leaving me and my family just didn?t ever cross my mind. He was in a coma for three weeks. I used to sit next to his bed and say the rosary almost ten times a day. Now mind you, I am not a religious person and I don?t go to church, but I thought if anyone could save my dad I knew it wasn?t anyone on this earth.
My coach just gave me a look of concern and said ?that was she was told.?
So I got into my car and speed home as fast as I could. I paged my dad five times and my mom four times. My dad never called back. My mom called back, she was sobbing, but she wouldn?t tell what was wrong. She just said ?Don?t leave that house, I?ll be there in five minutes. I have to tell you something, don?t go anywhere!?
I asked her ?Is there was anything wrong with dad??
She exclaimed ?Don?t leave the house.?
So I paged my dad again, no reply back, I sat down and started watching Caroline In the City. It helped me to keep my mind off what was wrong. Millions of thoughts ran through my mind, did grandma or grandpa die? Is Aina, my sister, okay? Is Brent,my brother, okay? What was only five mintues, felt like an eternity. Finally, I heard the garage door open. I know it was my mom, I hear the side door open, and saw her face. She was bright red, her eyes were all puffy and she was cring uncontrollably. I asked her ?what was wrong??
She said ?sit down.?
I said ?No, tell me!?
She replied, ?honey, I am so, so sorry, but daddy died last night, in his sleep.?
My heart stopped, it felt like someone took a knife and stabbed me all over my body, and then ripped my heart out and started jumping on it. I fell to the floor, I satared screaming and cring. They weren?t tears of sadness, they where tears of rage. I started punching and kicking the walls. The whole time I just kept saying ?
?I can?t believe this is happening, this isn?t suppose to happen to people like me.? ?He was getting better, what the hell happened??
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