A supposed pre-school project, the chicks never hatched. Fourth grade I experienced the news before anything could be said. he was sick, with no evident diagnosis. and i was supposed to be okay. to look out for her and show no feeling. He hasn't recovered. A heart attack took a father. Cancer a mother. And I supposed to be okay. she found the box of index cards, my secret diary. They disappeared and nothing was said to settle the questions she had. It's as if she looked for a sign to find an answer, and missed the rest behind the mirror. Okay. I came home, the look on his face brought me to tears. he had been taken to the hospital, I should have called him when I had the chance. Then he offered me dinner, like everything was supposed to be okay? Today I got caught, he should have never known, the last person I'd want to. It's not his problem it's mine, it'll heal over time.