The tears felt cold on my face as I ran. At six in the morning, I'm a wreck. The news hit me like a bomb in the chest. Why? Why did it have to happen to him? Why not me? The other car just had to run a red light, didn't it. It isn't fair. My heart is in shreads. My legs feel heavy as I run past each house. I'll never be able to attend another father/daughter dance. I'll never be able to say "Happy Father's Day, Dad!" The wind is picking up, I'm breathing heavier. I miss him so much. The tears are coming faster and heavier. I'm trembling. It's not fair. "He's dead, there is nothing you can do." That's what they all said. I wish there was something I could do. Dad, if you can hear me, I love you.