I was a normal girl. I have a normal family of 5. I was not that smart nor was athletic. Everything were very normal until a tragic event struck me. I honestly thought I was emotionless. I did not cried during any of my relatives's funerals. I would sit there, watching as the others cried the heck out of them. I did not understand the feeling of loss. Not yet. I thought he would still be there, I never imagined a worst case scenario since it was too dramatic to be brought into a reality. But here was I stood looking at him, he was pale, I can see his lips turning more blue and I knew what it meant. I stood as I saw my sister cried, she was the normal one I guess while I did not even cried. The doctors around looked at us, a pitiful looks even a familiar looks at us like this was normal. What was not normal, I did not reacted at all. He was my everything, I could tell that to everyone. I told myself, I was okey. I did not know why water started dripping so much, did it raining today? oh it did not. It was my tears.'Oh my.' I did not understand. Why was it hurt? I looked at him. Silently, I asked in my heart, 'You promised to stay alive. You promised!. I hated him. I hated that he was not trying to stay. 'I lied. I'm scared.' I was calming my sister and my mother came to her, everyone were calming her down. 'What about me? I'm not okey.' I watched as they took him away. I told myself again, I need to be strong for my family. 'I can't, my tears won't stop dropping. Please stop!' I hated myself. That was the one thing I think I was being honest to. I hated that the fact that he left without knowing I actually love him. I really, really love him. like words cannot describe how was I feeling that time. I still hurt. Almost 2 years have passed, yet losing my father still hurt. 'I thought time will heal.' Yet, here was I, crying in my room wishing we could had at least switched places instead. I wished I was the one that go rather than him. I was willing to but life seem to hate me so much, they took him from me.
