Gone. The love, the freedom, gone. It all went the day my dad did. I still wish that it had been me who held the gun because that would mean that the one person I love would be here. Instead my murderer of a mother would be dead. I recently learned that life is controlled by fate. Whether you like it or not, people die. And unfortunately I also learned that when they die, you do to.
A normal day turned horrific. My dad had just come home for lunch from his job as a police officer. Every day he would meet me at home and we would talk. My dad was the only person in this world that knew everything about me. I told him about my friends and my crushes and my period. He helped me threw it all. On this particular day he was called early because of a gang fight downtown.
My dad was my hero. Everyone turned to him and he helped no matter who it was. He brought those who deserved it to justice and freed those who didn't. I never found it possible to love anyone else because no one even came close to my dad. Anyway, he had come home from the job and hung his gun on the coat rack by the door. My mom was out, as usual, so I had made lunch for us. Grilled cheese, which was his favorite. He smiled at me and said hi. I smiled back and we sat down at the table. I opened my mouth to talk before the front door slammed open. My mom burst threw and looked more upset than I have ever seen.
My dad immediately ran and asked what's wrong. My mom looked up at him rage filled her eyes. She said three simple words that I knew hurt my dad more than anything ever said by anyone. "I hate you". My dad recoiled like he had been slapped. He asked her why and she looked even more angry than before. She ran to the door, and before my dad could stop her she had the gun in her hand. She started saying a bunch of swears and much stuff I had no clue on. When I looked at my dad, he looked confused as well. He made a move to grab the gun, and that was it.
The shot rang loud and clear threw the air as if making me count the seconds. My dad immediately dove to the ground, but it was too late. The shot hit him clear in the chest. The blood pooled on the floor. I saw his eyes roll back in to his head before my mom dropped the gun and fell to the ground in tears. I turned to my dad and hugged him and I knew that my clothes were being soaked with is blood. I didn't care.
Never will I care about anything ever again.