The Day My Daddy Died.

Sitting in English Class.

The phone rings.

“Hello, yes, no problem.”

“Samantha, you’re going home.”

Walking to my locker.

Happy, carefree.

I see Cheyenne.

Something is wrong.

Waiting in the Office.

This is taking forever.

Casey shows up.

We leave.

The Car Ride.

Nobody tells the truth.

“Everything is fine.”

Laughing. Joking.

Clueless.

The Hospital.

No worries, no cares.

Into the elevator.

Something must be wrong.

The Room.

The door opens.

Screaming. Crying.

He’s gone.

She’s on her knees.

My sister screams.

No.

It’s not true.

He’s not gone.

He can’t be.

The Chair.

She picks it up.

We tell her no.

We hold her back.

It flies.

Hole in the wall.

He’s gone.

How.

How do I process what happened?

Where did he go?

You can’t be gone.

It’s Your Birthday.

I made you cupcakes.

I finished your card.

I never got to say

Happy Birthday.

The Night Before.

We fight.

We argue.

I say I hate you.

I’m sorry.

I’m so sorry.

I Make a Call.

“Sammie, he’s gone.”

“I know.”

“How?”

How?

“Facebook.”

She knew from Facebook.

I’m in The Bathroom.

I cry. Just sit there.

I stare. I don’t know what to do.

Where did you go?

Where.

I leave.

My Grandparents Arrive.

He just sits there.

She cries, I stare.

There are screams, then silence.

They are broken.

Her son is gone.

His son is gone.

They Say Goodbye.

I can’t go. He can’t be gone.

I’m not ready to say goodbye.

You’re too strong to be gone.

You’re actually gone.

Home.

It’s nothome anymore.

I don’t want to go back.

You’re not there.

Come home. Come home!

You still haven’t come home.