Hey. This is really sad, so I'm just warning you, ok? Its not funny or poetic or anything-just sad. Suze talks about how she felt when her dad died. Being dad less, she reveals her emotions. WARNING! Tears may occur.

Love, Beka

Tears In Heaven

When my dad died, I thought nothing of it. I was too young to comprehend what it hadmeant. I thought that he would just come home the next day of work, and we would live an average life. It was an evil act of God, I had thought to myself.

How could God take away what little my mother and I had? Taking away my mothers happiness, leaving her a widow.

At the funeral, I stood immobile and impassive by my mother's side. I remember it all so clearly, as if it had just happened.

People were gathered around a wooden shaped box, containing my father's dead body in it. They should have given him a more comfy box, I thought to myself. Would dad come out of it later on, making a whole joke out of it? If he would, I would be upset at him for playing such a cruel joke on us.

I felt nothing, absolutely nothing during the memorial. Tears wouldn't even come out. I felt embarrassed that everyone else was crying, but me. I just stood there, staring at the coffin. People came up to me, people I didn't even know saying how sorry they were.

That night, I noticed that daddy didn't come home. I cried myself to sleep thinking about who would bring me home special gifts from work? Who would take me out for ice cream late at night?

Not my father, that was for sure.

But a strange thing happened that night. As I was crying into my pillow, I noticed a glowing light come from the corner of the room.

I picked up my head, to find my dad.

My eyes opened so wide that I was afraid I expanded my skin too much.

No words would come out of me. Even though I was 8, my body just wouldn't pick itself up, and throw itself to my father giving him a hug.

So I just sat there staring.

My father noticed my gaze on him and started walking to my bed.

He reached his hand to my face and cupped my cheek. There was love, sorrow, and sadness in his eyes.

"You can see me." Was what he said. "They led my to a door, saying that there was a mediator behind it. My daughter, she can see ghosts. You're my mediator, Suze."

I just looked at him, tears still in my eyes. He knew he was dead. Why wasn't he asking me how I was? How I was handling all of this?

"Dad, you -I mis- mom needs..." Nothing comprehensible came out of my mouth. Here was my dad, dead, right in front of me. Did this mean I would be able to prolong seeing my dad, even though he was dead? I mean, he wouldn't leave, like other ghosts do, right?

"I love you daddy! Why did you leave like that? Mom and I need you!" I sounded pathetic and weak. Well, I was only 8, so give me some credit.

"Sweetie, I didn't plan any of this. Things just happen," He held my hand. I didn't want him to let it go. "You have to understand that I love you and your mother. I will always watch over the both of you. Your my sunshine, I wont let anything happen to you."

His voice started to quiver. Tears were coming down his glowing face. He was wearing his sweatpants from jogging. This is what he died in, so I guess its what he'll be wearing for the rest of his ghost living life.

At least I'd be able to see him.

My mom. She wont ever be able to see him, she can't see ghosts. Forever she'll be at the loss of losing someone she loved, who she wont ever be able to see again.

"Does this mean that I can see you whenever I want to? You can walk me to school and stuff?" I asked with my voice trembling.

I was afraid. The first time of losing someone, and it had to be my dad. Not my grandma, not my aunt, not my cousin...but my dad.

Thanks God. Great job, you want a prize?

I sat up, leaning my head against the headboard. My emerald eyes were full of stinging tears. It hurt to look at him, knowing he was dead. I leaned over and pulled him into a hug.

I really didn't want to let him go. I felt that if I did, then he would go again. "Can you stay here? Stay while go to sleep...please?" I said through light sobs.

"Of coarse I will, Suze. I love you so much...You're my girl, always." He said in a soft, smooth voice.

How long would I be able to take this? My father was DEAD. I'm never going to have a father for the rest of my life. When I get married, my father wont be by my side. When I have my first kid, my child will only have one grandfather.

No one deserves this. No one.

I felt the tears continually roll down my face. "Shh. I wont leave you, honey. Shh...Just go to sleep…" My father whispered into my hair. "Love you so much..." He said, kissing my hair and rocking me back and forth.

I started to feel really tired. His touch; the one only I could feel; was soothing to my skin. It was like a lullaby, making me feel sleepy.

His voice soothed me, making me feel safer than ever. Knowing that he was going to stay for the night, my eyes closed into a deep sleep.

-1-

Nine years later, and I still don't have a father.

Ghosts don't count. He's dead, so that's out of the question.

Stepfather's don't count either. And stepbrothers especially don't count. Who needs 'em anyway?

Leaving New York was really hard. Not only was I leaving my best friend Gina and my school, but also I was leaving so many memories of my dad.

The bedroom where I first saw him after he died. The park by our house where he went jogging, and never came home. The attic we used to use as a hide and seek spot. So many memories, just left back in New York

Carmel is nice, but it's just not the same. I was really thankful that my dad could come to Carmel and transfer back and forth.

It wasn't easy for him either. Yeah he got to see his daughter grow up, complain to her mom about her getting her first period, school problems, etc. But it wasn't so easy for him to see mom fall in love with Andy and move to Carmel.

Of coarse he wants her to be happy. Hell, that's what he WANTED to happen. But it's just not the same. Seeing her get married and be in love with some other guy, kind of triggers something his heart.

Er, you know. The heart he would have. If it weren't for him being dead n'all.

He still lectures me on things I do. For instance, he thinks that I should be more lady like and stop punching people. Now why would he think that?

I kinda got better since we moved to Carmel. I've got Father D to lecture me on my 'skills' for handling ghosts.

Meh. Violence is not the answer. In some cases, there may be exceptions.

I cant say that I totally despise my 'special gift to see the dead', because if it weren't for it, then I wouldn't be able to see my dad at all.

That would suck. Big time. I'd be like totally fatherless, instead of only half fatherless.

From time to time, my mom hears me talking to myself. Uh, she thinks I'm talking to myself. If only she knew...

There was one time where she said "Suzie, honey. Do need someone to talk to? About anything in particular that you're going through? Should I make an appointment for a psychiatrist?"

Dear God...HELP ME! My mom thinks I am going insane. She goes through too much.

God bless her.

Well, now that I think about it, God almost never helps me. Shall I make a list for you?

Dad died. Mediator. Move from NY. Kick ghosts asses. Deal with Sleep, Dopey, and Doc everyday. Jesse stocks me, wont leave my room. My Steve Madden slides broke. My life sucks.

Oh I've got tons more. You'd just die from boredom of me listing them all. Then you'd become a ghost. Then I'd have to exorcize you. Mwuaha!

So, lets not digress. Back to the subject, shall we?

One time, when Father D called me into his office because I chose to kick some guy who decided to take my lunch, my dad showed up. Oh, the joy.

He said that he wanted to see what trouble his daughter was causing. Thankfully, Father D told him I was an excellent student who achieves very nicely, and who has great potential...

...But I seem to have a lot of anger.

Gee, I wonder why? It wouldn't just so happen to be because of some ghosts ruining my life? Some of them make it a whole big thing just 'cuz I try exorcizing them. No biggy.

You just light candles in a symbol. Recite Latin hymns. And poof. They have moved on.

Simple, see? Just some people, cough-FatherD-cough, think it is unnecessary. I quote him, "You shall treat the dead with respect. Violence will not solve anything. If you treat them with admiration, it will be reciprocated... blah blah blah..."

To say that I didn't enjoy my father's presence would be a lie. Even though I may say that I get annoyed when he materializes and lectures me, I still like it.

See, if he wouldn't show up at all, then I would miss it. It was bad enough that he died when I was so young, so why would I want him to dematerialize? Isn't that sort of the same?

The real question is, is my father staying down here for me...Or is there something else that's keeping him from not moving on?

-1-

Ok, so I know that this was short and sad...But it's just the first chapter.

I felt like writing this because I was in the mood. My dad also died when I was little so I just thought of this idea.

I don't know where this will end up, but I'll think of stiff if you people review...

...Please?

I feel like an evil scientist with too many ideas in his head that it will explode. So if you don't review...I shall explode.

Love, Beka