Mirror mirror reflect my pain

The evening breeze was hard and cold before the rain came. I'd decided to take a walk outside in hopes of finding solace. A breath of fresh air could do me some good, I'd thought, but ended up getting soaked instead.

I was shivering and still, I chose to stay under the glacial rain. To let the clouds shower it's angry tears on me. Maybe it would wash away this agony I was in.

I hoped.

It had been two weeks. Two weeks since dad died, and everyday the pain grew beyond my understanding. I thought I would be on the road to recovery by this time, but sadly, that road was lost to me.

There were some days where I could endure it. Where the pain didn't feel like an unending fall. And then there were days that my heart felt so heavy I believed it was only a miracle that kept it in my chest.

And today… today was one of those days again. It was one of those days I couldn't take it anymore. One of those days suicide felt like an everlasting reprieve and not a moment of weakness.

My legs gave out and I fell to the ground, my joggers soaking more of the rain water. I'd been walking precariously for almost thirty minutes, thinking of nothing but my bad luck.

The burial had been okay. Luckily, my father's best friend, uncle Nathan, was willing to take care of everything on my behalf.

As my father's body was being lowered into the ground, all I did was stand and watch, a million emotions struggling to be in sync again. At one point, I envisioned myself jumping into the ground to be buried with my dad. Paralysis from my grief was the only reason why I hadn't acted on that thought.

"Hey. Are you okay?"

I was too immersed in my pain to care about the person talking. I would not have noticed his presence if it weren't for the umbrella he used to shield me from the rain. For a few seconds, my skin had found refuge from the icy water.

"I'm fine." I said, attempting to get up. My legs did not respond to my command.

The umbrella remained over my head even though I'd been rude, and so did the good samaritan. He stood by me, but all I saw was his white Nike sneakers that had been sullied with dirt and water.

Instead of feeling grateful, I was rather annoyed. I didn't want anybody pitying me even though I looked and felt pitiable.

With what felt like the last ounce of my energy, I dragged myself from the ground and began to walk towards my lonely home without as much as a thank you to the guy who'd been nice to me.

That evening, I climbed into bed hungry and cold, shivering until I fell asleep.

On one of my assignments about the five stages of grief, in my extensive research, I'd found out that what I was currently feeling was normal.

Normal.

The meaning of that word was lost to me. Would I ever be able to get over this intense pain? I keep hearing people tell me it will pass. That at some point this will feel like a bad dream. But how long till that moment comes? How much longer do I have to keep fighting so this pain doesn't consume me and make me do something stupid?…

Being alone was the worst thing that could ever happen to me. And yet, dad had chosen to leave me behind.

I hated him. I hated him for not being careful even though he knew he was all I had left in this world. I hated him for leaving me. I hated him for dying a few weeks before my seventh birthday. And I hated him more because now I was truly alone.

Growing up without a mother, I'd heard a lot of comments about how lonely my dad and I must be feeling. But dad never let me feel lonely. He made sure he was a dad and also a mum to me. He was always enough. That's why no matter what they said, it never got to me. But for the first time in my life, I really understood what it meant to be alone.

I missed him. I missed how he pampered me. How he sang to me even though I'm not a child anymore. I missed his nagging. I missed his presence…

I tried to get out of bed the next morning but I was too weak. So I continued thinking about my father and all the times we'd had together as tears rolled from my eyes down the side of my face.

More than anything in the world, I wanted the pain to go away. I wanted this moment to pass. I wished I could skip to where it would all be okay again.

My head began to ache.

Now I really needed to get out of bed. I tried to get up, feeling faint, I laid back down. My vision began to blur, so I shut my eyes. Struggling, I forced my legs to move but I could barely feel my legs now. In the end, I gave up.

Laying belle up, with my bed cover almost on my face, I let myself journey to a land where I was sure to escape the pain of reality.