Have you ever felt lonely, like there’s an empty spot in your heart? Well that’s how I feel.

You see my dad died in March on the 18. He was only 37 years old. we don’t know how {the doctors never told us}, all we know is that he was sick. My whole family had hoped that he would make it, but unfortunately that didn’t happen.

“Ugh,” my dad said when we got home from church one Sunday.

“What’s wrong?” I asked him.

“I have chills and I hurt all over.”

He was sick for a whole week. His short curly hair had turned into rough curly hair and his awesome smile was fading away. He had fever of 106. He went to work from Wednesday to Friday. I had a huge blur that he would get sicker.

My aunt picked me up from school and told me that my dad was in the hospital. All that was going on in my mind after that was ahhhhhhhhh! “Aunt ‘Reta is he going to be all right?”

“You’ve just gotta have hope,” she replied.

That weekend I was in suspense of what would happen to him. I wasn’t allowed to go to the hospital to see him but I imagined him pale with holes in him from all the cords. Monday morning I told all my friends. Tuesday morning I woke to a quiet house. My grandma was there but my mom wasn’t. When my mom got home, she told me the bad news. I guess hope is as light as a feather and as strong as a bull, but not everybody can make its powers just don’t work.