All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
There's a Bar in Heaven
I walked into the smoke filled room; it was decorated in red and wooden accents. The dim lighting made the aura of the room feel old-western. I took a seat on a mahogany barstool, next to a mid-forties man, who was smoking a half gone cigar. The smoke coming off the cigar frolicked as if it was playing a childish game.
"What's your drink," The bartender asked. He was dressed in a strange white suit. "Grey Goose," I replied looking around the room. "Had a hard day, baby doll?" The man next to me asked. "My day has been hell," I exasperated. "You're nowhere near hell, sweetie" he laughed. I didn't see the humor of what he said.
The bartender handed me my drink and I swallowed it in one gulp. "Be careful with those," the bartender said pointing to my drink, "they're stronger here." I handed him back the glass to fill it up. He received it and mixed another drink. "So what happened today that made your day hell, darling?" The man asked. I looked at him through a hazy gaze, "my father died." I took the glass from the bartender that he was holding up to me, and drank it down. I pushed the glass towards the bartender again to fill up. "So your father died," the man seemed to contemplate, "how did that happen, sweetheart?"
"He was in a car accident."
"Well I'm sorry to hear that, honey.'
Again the bartender handed me another drink; I drank it slower than the first two. "Oh don't be; I'm feeling better already," I slurred feeling bubbly. He raised his eyebrows at me as if he was surprised. "You know I remember this one time when I was younger I got sooo mad at him," I started drunkenly, "...I wanted to get a little doggy like all the celebrities and he told me I couldn't have one I threw the hugest fit, like I was about to die, in the middle of the pet store. When I came home I found out why I couldn't have one; my parents had already bought me the cutest little Teacup Yorkshire Terrier. I was so ecstatic that I forgot completely about my fit earlier; I never did get to apologize...for anything."
"I'm sure your happiness was enough of an apology, beautiful."
I nodded then laughed at my sorry-self.
"What else do you remember about him, love?"
"I remember the way he always went home everyday at five and laid his coat down over the chair and hugged and kissed my mother who was always making dinner at the time. He would then go to his study and pull out a cigar and he would stay in there working on some work related project until dinnertime. Then our whole family would sit down, pray, and discussed their day; he never called any of us by our name he always used pet names as if he didn't remember our names." I didn't feel drunk anymore; I felt sober as a person who has never drank. "I remember that too, and I do know your name, Silvia Anna Marchino," The man said giving me a side glance. My sight was fog, "Dad?" I called out.
"I'm here, baby."
I blinked open my eyes again but instead of the smoky filled room I was in a hospital bed in a small white hospital room with light streaming through the blinds. I squinted, looking around; my mom was sitting next to my bed. "Good morning Silvia," She said cheerfully. "Why am I here, where's dad?" I asked. "You passed out in the shower so we rushed you here; the doctors said that you'll be fine to go home after tonight; Dad is on his way over here," my mom took my hand. I sighed, my dad was okay. It must have just been a bad dream, but it felt so real. 'Silvia are you okay,' she asked me. I looked at my mom, 'Yea, I just feel a little light headed.'
'Do I need to get the doctor in here?'
'No mom; I'm fine.'
'Well I'll go get you something to eat and drink down in the hospital cafeteria,' She said getting up to leave.
I have passed out before, and my mom always thinks that I'm about to die every time. Doctors still haven't found the reason for my random fainting. The first time I ever passed out it was just me and my dad; when I was ten years old. My mom and sister were out shopping, and my dad and I were having a movie marathon. We had just started watching an Adam Sandler movie. The microwave went off, and I went to get the popcorn out. I was coming back when I started to feel really dizzy. I remember saying 'Daddy why is the room spinning.' He got up and walked towards me. 'Daddy stop moving,' I had screamed. He put his hands on my shoulders, and said, 'Just stay calm; you'll be okay, honey.'
'What's happening Daddy?'
'You'll be fine, sweetie,' He said picking me up and carrying me outside to his black Ford truck.
'Am I going to be okay?'
He sat me down inside the truck and got in the drivers side. 'I won't let anything happen to you; I'm here for you, bug.' After that I can't remember what happened.
My mom walked back into my hospital room carrying a tray with food on it, and sat down next to me again, 'Here you go Silvia,' She said setting the tray down.
The hospital door opened and my sister came in crying, "Mom, dad was in a car accident on his way over here; the doctors say that there is no chance that he will live." I looked at my sister bewildered.