It was a Wednesday. April 10th, 2013. It was the first day of the year that it actually felt like spring. I was wearing a tight black skirt with a white laced shirt and a jean jacket over it. I remember walking downstairs asking my dad which shoes I should wear, he said flip flops. As we walked out the door, the crisp, morning spring air hit me. My father and I never really talked much in the morning, I guess because we were both still trying to wake up, but as I got out of the car at the front of the school, I remember saying “bye”. Just bye. That was the last word I ever said to my best friend, my dad.

Oddly enough, I was actually having a really good day at school. My friends said my outfit was cute, I got a good grade on a quiz my English class, and we were finishing up our dances in dance class getting ready for our end of the year showcase. Little did I know what was going on at home.

The weather was so nice that I took off my jacket as I walked down my long driveway to my house. I remember being excited to be home because I had my favorite dance class on Wednesday nights. I loved being able to go to dance every day after school and see my friends. I probably spent more time at my dance studio then my actual house back then. When I got to my house, I found that the front door was locked, which was strange because I knew my dad was home due to his car in the driveway. I turned the corner and started walking to the side door when I noticed something in the grass inside the fence. As I got closer I realized it was my dad’s feet. I thought to myself why would he be laying down outside, by the fence door lying on the grass. I began to make other explanations in my head such as maybe he was doing work on the roof and fell off or maybe he just passed out or something that we could laugh about together when we realized what had happened. Not at all. I felt my body go completely numb as I realized what was in front of me.

I moved his arm from over his eyes and it just hit me. My dad was dead. Just dead. My first instinct was to pick up all the blood and put it back into his head. I wasn’t crying, or screaming, my body and mind just went into complete shock. After a few seconds I realized maybe I should call 911, but I really didn’t want to. I knew the moment I called for help and told someone about it, it became real, and I really didn’t want this to be real. I’m pretty sure I literally pinched my arm, hoping I would wake up from this horrible nightmare that had all just happened so fast. But it wasn’t, so I called 911. The idiot women I was talking too couldn’t understand me or my address. I remember thinking can’t they just track my address, I mean its 2013, they should have more advanced technology by now. After she told me help was on the way, I sprinted to my neighbor’s house. I’m not sure why I did this considering I hadn’t talked to my neighbors in years but I guess I just didn’t want to be alone. My neighbors Mitchell, was a 19 year old delinquent, who of course did not answer the door after me banging and screaming for 5 minutes. I knew he was in there because I could hear his insanely loud music all the way from outside, so I just walked in. When I found him I just started screaming “my dad is dead”. I don’t think he believed me or he thought I was crazy or something because his reaction was rather calm. He drove me in his car back to my house, and when he saw it for himself he just held me until the unnecessary amounts of ambulances, cop cars, and fire trucks arrived.

The next few hours were a blur of answering the same questions over and over again, and trying to get ahold of my mom. She had been on conference calls all afternoon so the police had to go pick her up from the office and bring her home. When I saw the look on her face when she saw me and my sister I knew nothing could ever be the same again. The worst was when my uncle, my dad’s brother got there. I watched my aunt tell him his last sibling was gone. He just collapsed and fainted. That broke my heart more than anything. I missed 3 dance classes that night and my sophomore year Poms banquet. 

I honestly don’t know how I managed to sleep that night. I woke up the next morning, not happy to remember what happened the day before. There were tons of friends and relatives bringing flowers and food. I just lied in my room all day, waiting for it all to be over. But it never was and never will be. I am still in shock and living the continuous nightmare.