“‘The date is’, he hesitates, ‘september eleventh.’
Ryan, I mean your dad, turns around in his spinny chair taking a look at the beautiful weather. His heart suddenly drops. He runs, fast as ever. He spies the planes swerving closer and closer. You can see the fear in everyone's eyes. BOOM! He reaches the bottom floor as a young woman is struggling to breathe with all the smoke surrounding her. He doesn’t look down. Next thing he knows, he is on the floor sideways. He struggles to get up, poor dad, barely ever stood a chance.”
I look around at my big, elaborate apartment as my mom is telling the story-- I wish dad was somewhere around here. I take a look at my mom's pink patterned bandana wrapped tightly covering her whole head. Then I take a look at my converse swinging forward and back over, and over again. I sigh.
“I know”, Moms voice gets higher and choppier, “It’s hard, very, very hard.” At this point she can barely talk. I grab her shoulders and squeeze them tight. I feel like every hug has to be special and worth it, as if it were the last. Mom sighs, but a rather happier one. “I’m alright now, Sophie. So, 5 months went by and I was still in the hospital because of my--” I stop her.
“Yeah.” I don’t like to hear the word. Mom went on.
“Well your father was in the room next to me.” She pauses to loosen her ring and she smiles, then laughs a little. “I wake up to the beeping noises from all the tests attached to my arm, and the noise of your father's cane clicking and clacking on the white hospital floor.” She grins at me in an excited way, biting her lip. Soon her eyes squint and tears drop into her favorite coffee mug. She keeps going, “Well,” She pauses, “long story short, we met, we fell in love, then you happened Soph. The reason we met is that lady he tripped over.” She winks at me and points to herself. She becomes sad, “but that lady, who is me, is also the reason he was hurt, and soon ended up,” she stops to swallow her tears “dying.”
Wow--amazing details. I didn’t care though, mom was trying to speed it up for a reason, I know.
I know there is a lot more to the dad story.
“Well,” Mom paused, “Time to go to school.”

It is my first day of second grade. I walk around the long halls, wondering how I will survive my first year without my dad. My mom's smooth, warm hands rest on my shoulders: she always knows how to comfort me. The moment she leaves I start feeling lonely, I keep wondering if it will be the last time I see her. A tear drops down my face, I scream for her repeatedly. Between I cry harder and harder, I scream again. I hear the click of her shoes, it reminds me of the sound mom was trying to describe when she told me the dad story. Knowing she ran for me made me wipe the tears off my face, I love that about her.
“Sweetie, don’t cry, today is supposed to be happy! Honey, I’ll tell you what.” I wipe more tears and stare at her. I look her right in her beautiful pale, blue eyes, so convinced. “You have another hard time, I’ll drive right back over here, pick you up, and we’ll head home. How ‘bout that?”
I smile, “sounds great” I say sarcastically. She grabs my head and laughs. I feel her long nails trace through my long and thick, blonde locks. She then takes a deep breath, I could tell she's jealous of my hair. “Don't be silly, Mom”, I say as I move her hands so they would tightly lock with mine. Her eyes meet the white tiled floor, then with mine. Sometimes I feel like her eyes tell me her story, they always look like they have hope, just like she always had.
Her eyes convinced me, like they always do. “I’ll take the deal”, I blurt out confidently. As my mom laughs with her head in her hands, I realise she has changed her bandana to a darker pink. “I love it”, I say pointing to her head.
She grabs the tail of it, “Oh this old thing? Yeah, well. Thanks sweetheart, I know you mean it.” And I did, I meant it with all my heart. I can’t help but to tell the truth to mom, she just gives me the comfort that dad used to.

My 4th birthday party, my father slept through. Same with my 5th. My 6th he missed as well, but that wasn't his fault. Mom received an urgent text. Her eyes turned wide with big tears dripping everywhere. Her mascara started to drip. Her face got red. She was holding in as much as she can. She blinks repeatedly. “Everybody out!” She screamed louder and angrier than ever. All the children began to cry, she grabbed her head and fell to the floor on her knees. “No!” She screams dramatically. “Why does this happen all to me--all the time?” What is going on? I gulped hard, remembering my dad was not doing well, and soon my eyes widened and my jaw dropped to the floor-- I cried a river.

“Who wants a sundae?” He’d ask with a tone more excited than ever. There's not one time I look back to memories with my father where I wasn't full with joy. He ran to our clear refrigerator and grabs the whip cream and strawberries. “Soph, what do you say we add a healthy twist to our ice cream tonight?” He said looking down at the strawberries. We both look at the clock, It read 9:45 p.m. We both looked at each other and shrug. He placed his index finger upon his lips and motions his other finger to mom's door-- she was sleeping.
“I'm on it!”, I whispered as dad told me to get the sprinkles.
“Blueberries, Soph?” He questioned. We both looked at each other shaking our heads then we bursted out with laughter, forgetting about mom.
“Bananas?”, he questioned that as well.
“Eh, why not?” I asked.
The sundae, you're probably wondering was amazing-- the best ice cream sundae in the world because dad helped me make it. Would I pay $1 million to be back at that very day? Anyday, anytime, anywhere. I miss those days. I was used to stress, but with dad around it felt like all those pains went away: they disappeared. 

My mom dropped me off at school again. And the next day, and the next. The whole week was all doing well. I made 3 new friends-- Amanda, Hayden, and Masie. We played together during recess everyday. I never wanted to leave their sides. Until one day. One day can change everything. One day my whole life changed, I became lonely.
That same day, I took the bus home. I got the note my mom dropped off, that she was going to be on her way home from the doctor;  they said she seemed free of cancer-- she needed some testing though. I ran up the stairs to my apartment. “Mommy, mommy!” I yelled to share the news about my friends, I thought she would be proud. I opened the big wooden door with excitement only to find a body lying on the couch, not moving. There was a phone in her hands, it was mom. “Mom? Mom?” I screamed. I lifted her phone, my heart sank. The number read 911. I took a deep breath, and then it hit me. My mom died, right in front of my eyes. I fell to the floor holding her pink bandana, “I can't go through this again, I can't handle it!” I bawled and bawled for hours to make me realize this was going no where. That day, I realized my life seemed worthless.