Good Bye Daddy

February 3, 2009
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I don't know why it had to happen this way. I got a call at eleven twenty three at night. It's amazing how every detail stands out when something traumatizing happens. The officer's name was John Riley. They had found him on highway six, out side of town about four miles. His exact words were, 'Kelsey, I'm sorry to be the one to have to tell you this, and over the phone none the less, but your father is dead. There is no way we can save him. I truly am sorry.'

I throw the phone, not caring what happens to it and scrabble out of bed. I throw open my door and run down the hall, tears already streaming down my face. I open the door with a bang that wakes my mother and my step dad. 'He's dead! Dad is dead!' I scream.

I run back to my room and grab a jacket and pull on jeans. I rush out of my room again as my mom was stepping into the hall. 'We have to go! I can't just sit here!' I scream and throw her keys to her.

I run into the garage and open the door. She's starting the car as I get in. 'Where?' she ask.

'Highway six, just out side of town.' I reply as we pull out into the street. She speeds toward the edge of town and I notice tears in her eyes. We arrive where the police are busy going here and there, their lights flashing. A black curtain is set up, and a man comes from behind it.

I climb from the car and grab the nearest person's arm. 'What happened? What happened to him?' I beg. A deep sorrow fills the man's eyes as he recognizes the face of a desperate little girl who has lost her father.

'I'm sorry. We think he dozed off at the wheel. His vehicle swerved and went off the side of the road. It rolled and he was crushed.' He said.

I don't have the strength to stand any more. I sink to my knees and start to sob.
One Month Later

We took him home. We buried him on a mountain in Montana. Every one is dressed in black. The forest is silent. Only the brook sings its good bye song. On the cross that marks his grave is written,
Alan K.
2/29/64- 5/23/08
Good Bye
I'm Sorry

I'd carved it myself. I placed a black rose on top of the grave. It had taken weeks for me to get that rose ebony black. I was the only one left standing by the grave. Every one was walking back down the mountain. The breeze blew my hair, and for a moment, I could almost hear his voice again.

'When I die, every time the wind blows I'll be hugging you, and every time you feel a rain drop on your skin, I'll be kissing you.'

Just then, I felt a single rain drop on my cheek. When I looked up, there were no clouds in the sky.

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