It all happened in 2017 (when I was six) everything was perfect, nice friends, fun times and my family. But then this happened…
On 16th May 2017, it was an evening, the same as any other and like I said, life couldn’t be better. My dad came and read me a story then said goodnight.
I slowly began to fall asleep, but when I woke, what a surprise greeted me.
It was the next day (17th May), and as usual my curtains were slightly open and my door was ajar. I looked outside only to see two ambulances parked outside my house and a police car. I decided to go back to sleep as I thought it was a dream, however, I had just closed my eyes when my mum came bursting into my room crying and told me that my dad was unwell…
I didn’t understand, he was fine last night! He had no medical health conditions; he didn’t even look sick. I was baffled, whatever could’ve happened? Nothing made sense, it seemed like a bad dream but soon, that nightmare came to life…
My mum took me downstairs where I sat in the TV room watching cartoons with some of my family.
It seemed like a long time, and yes it was, but the paramedics finally came down with my mum. I turned the TV off and waited for them to say something.
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One of the paramedics came and sat down opposite me and everyone else was standing in a semi-circle behind him.
“Your dad will never come downstairs again,” stated the man.
I was back to square one thinking “what’s going on”.
He continued, “nor will he go upstairs again, do you know what that means?”.
I took a moment to think, then it dawned on me. I slowly nodded tears filling my eyes. He didn’t say anything, as if waiting for me to tell him that my dad… was dead.
I couldn’t believe it, I didn’t want to believe it, but it was true. All of the visitors departed, I didn’t say anything, I just sat there horror-stricken. I didn’t attend school that day, I felt like a part of my life had just decayed slowly and painfully.
Every night, my thoughts were about daddy. Why him? Why now?
Now it’s 2022, coming up to five years. Still the same me, just different… Every time I go home. But we’re managing. I have no brothers or sisters so it’s just my mum and I. My mum and I believe that ‘if something happens, it happens for the better’ and that ‘when one door closes another one opens’. My family are Muslims and all people belonging to the faith of Islam believe that Allah (God) knows best.
Yesterday I was thinking: Why did it have to happen to us? But then, I thought of all of the people who have no parents or anyone to look out for them. And I thanked Allah because I know that if he calls someone home, it’s for a good reason…