Hi you probably don’t know me, but my name is Stacey and I come from Bolton.
My story could upset some people like myself because it is a very emotional story, It could bring tears to your eyes.
In July of ’98’ it was a beautiful summers day and I’d just started my summer holidays. It was good not to have to get up early for school but to this day I wish I had got up earlier, rather than being lazy and staying in bed till noon.
My mother who was crying her eyes out woke me. She could hardly breathe. I was half asleep when she told me the bad news.
‘Your dad has been rushed into hospital. He is very ill!’
I thought I was just dreaming because I hadn’t woken up properly. I started to cry I just wanted to be able to wake up and be told it was a bad dream.
I got out of bed, went down stairs and made a drink.
Then my sister come flying in and she was crying too, I still didn’t understand what was happening properly. I was still trying to understand so I went back into my bedroom, locked the door and just sat there starring at the wall that had all my photos of my family and friends. I was too upset to cry, I just sat there and starred, only blinking occasionally. Then someone started to knock at my door, I just sat there still and didn’t even acknowledge whoever was there, still not understanding what was going on.
The knocking carried on till I finally got up and I answered the door. My brother just stood there looking at me with these big brown watery eyes. I never thought I would see my big brother cry but I did. I just can’t describe how much emotion was in my house that day. I started to get dressed and do my hair, It was about 3 o’clock. We set off in two cars. There were quite a lot of us.
I entered the hospital with my sister and the first thing, which struck me, was the smell of bleach and cleaning equipment. I can still smell it to this day and it still makes my stomach turn.
The walls, floor, every bit of the hospital was a bright white colour. There was no colour no atmosphere. Even with family I still felt so alone and empty. I just wanted to go home, I didn’t like the place at all. It just didn’t feel real. I was so numb, no emotions and no feelings; it was surreal. As I walked up the stairs, every step you could hear an echo. It was so freaky.
I entered a room. We had to cover our shoes and wash our hands. I walked over to this body which just lay there full of machines and wires which went everywhere. It looked like a puzzle that I had to uncover. I still felt no emotion; everyone was crying I just didn’t have the energy.
I looked at this body. It was my father but he looked so frail and colourless. I couldn’t understand why this was happening to my family and me. We had never done anything to harm anyone, so why had god decided to choose my father? He was in his prime.
He tried to speak to me but there was no sound coming out, just the sound of his weak and feeble breathing, I sat with my dad talking to him. He knew what I was talking about because I could tell by his eyes. They say the eyes are the window to your soul.
What I started to say was very heartfelt. I started to say how much I loved him and how much I hoped he pulled through.
That night we had a phone call, we all had to go to the hospital. My dad had deteriorated rapidly and they were going to switch off his life support machine. I started to cry and scream. I didn’t want my dad to leave.
It was switched off at midnight; we all sat there and prayed, but it was time for my dad to go.
The following week was terrible. The house was a mess; my mother and I were just to busy with funeral arrangements to tidy up. I was just so numb, it felt like it wasn’t happening to me. Well that’s how I felt on the inside but I had to be brave for my mother, I couldn’t let her see how upset I were over my father’s death.
It was all arranged, the funeral, the wake, everything, but I still couldn’t accept that my dad was gone. The following Friday we held his funeral, all sat in black. Even the mood was the blackest of black.
I didn’t cry once I couldn’t cry. It didn’t seem right. My dad wouldn’t have wanted us to be upset.
As they lay my father to rest I threw I red rose which landed on top of his coffin, I said with my head looking up to the heavens
‘I love you dad. See you in heaven.’
That was my final goodbye. I turned and walked away ready for life without him.
Remember! This is just a sample.
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