WHAT SHEtS DONE. ItVE LOST EVERYTHING THAT EVER MEANT ANYTHING TO ME, BUT STILL.. I CANtT LET GOv- Cliffhanger. Intro: Have you ever had something to say, but you just didn t know how to put it? Or better yet, have you ever been so sure about what you wanted to say, but when it came time, if there ever really is a right time to say it, you can t? Have those words ever been the remedy of the situation you re in? Have those words ever lost their meaning? Are you confused? Are you overwhelmed? Good. Now you re one step closer to understanding me. I know you re probably scratching your head, and you re frustrated with ever question that has been fired at you. But what if there are plenty more questions to be asked? What if you have to actually answer those questions? What if your answers have to make sense? What if you have to go through what I go through? Life isn t a trip, It s a journey. And what I ve been through may not seem as important as problems of your own. But once you actually understand, then you re one step closer to figuring out the answers of the world. Well, maybe not that extreme, but at least you ll understand me. And all I want is exactly what any other human being wants; someone to listen to me. Try fitting into my shoes. You re almost down to my size. This story may remind you of a couple things; such as fictional stories. But that s just it; it s not a story. It s very real, and painful, to tell. Just try your best. I need you.

chapter 1:
I was sitting beside my dad that evening. His pale, sickened face was luminous with joy. It was the strongest he d been in months. I stared into matching blue eyes. We were the only ones in the family with those eyes. But mine were very different. His were cold and glossy. It was like an ice age evaded his eye sockets. When he smiled his weak smile, it was like trying to light up a match in a blizzard. It just wouldn t light up. I knew we had limited time left together, and although I was only eight, I felt too mature for my age. I guess that s why it hurt me so much more than any other normal eight year old. He patted my head weakly as he always did, and continued gazing at the sunset from the hospital bed.

Daddy? I asked silently into the fading light. He weakly turned his head towards me to let me know I had his attention. I don t want you to die , I whispered, trying my best not to cry. Suddenly his smile faded, but reappeared for my sake. I m not going anywhere, Jessica. Remember, your heart is like your very own treasure chest, you put everything valuable in there, and one day, you ll bury it, search for it, and lastly you ll share it. He replied as he always used to when one of our pets passed away. I remember how much it killed me when I lost my old German shepherd named Chico. He told me the exact same thing, and forever, I will follow his advice. But I never expected for him to say those words about himself. Of course I will always keep my father in my heart, but never will I accept that he s gone. All I could do now was hope for a miracle to happen. I didn t want to lose my father. But then again, who does? I suddenly felt the familiar hands of my mother on my shoulders. Time to go , she whispered. I sighed, but I didn t refuse this time. I hugged my father tightly, and with a kiss on his fragile cheek, I left with my mother. That night I sat up pacing the ceiling with my eyes. My eyes were looking at the ceiling, but I was seeing right through it. I was searching for heaven, because I knew it was going to become my new salvation. I knew my dad would pass away, and I knew I would start turning to heaven whenever I needed him. I usually don t remember all the details of what happens in each of my experiences, but my mother s shriek will never fade from my brain. It was and still is forever imprinted into my impenetrable skull. And that s how I knew, my dad was gone. I knew I would never feel the same towards any other man. My father was the only man that would ever be in my life. And I became this monster because my father wasn t there to pick up the pieces that he shattered. And I blamed God because he took him away from me when I needed him the most. I became depressed. All this because one man was taken away from me. And I was only eight years old. Mature huh? Later on in life I realized that becoming depressed and blaming God really wasn t mature. It was hiding. And although I was eight, It didn t make me mature for my age at all. I grew up though. And I finally accepted his death. Ten years later. But every once in a while, a pang in my heart would sound louder than the silence around me. And I say that because there were always days where silence was the loudest sound to be heard. Haven t you ever sat there and wanted to go crazy because of how hard silence was banging at your eardrums? Was it like you were wearing headphones and all you could do was hear the static at full blast? Or like your ears were ringing and you thought it was because someone was thinking about you? Well, let me just tell you; no one was thinking about you. I m sorry to crush your spirits, but that was just silence eating away at you and you letting it happen. But then, who can really blame you? You can t stop silence from attacking.

Silence got to me every day. And I swear to you, at times I could hear my father s heart warming laugh. And for that instant, and for that instant only, I would smile and become the little girl I once was. But that was only for the instant.

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