Home

Home…Home he said…how is that possible…I started to remember the memories of my mother and father playing with me…laughing…cooking my favorite spaghetti and meatballs…and dad making funny jokes…the last time I saw them, I said “I HATE YOU BOTH” and slammed the door on their faces… I-I am a horrible…horrible girl. I am the one to blame for my parents death…and then I started to cry…tears came down my face like rain in a stormy cloud, I started to think I was dreaming and hallucinating and thinking shit… maybe this figure was gonna drop me , and I look forward to it… somehow that silhouette started to notice me crying. He started to sing a song… “come…little…bird…sleep…sleep…” It wasn’t just a normal song… I started to recover my feelings and thought…that was what my father used to sing when I can’t sleep. I gained the courage to asked him, “where is home” he replied quietly “close…close…close…close…is…home”  Home? Close? Does he mean we’re close to home? Then he said “I…I…have…daughter…home…but…I…die…in….car” Die? In Car? I started to get confused and I started to think. My parents passed away in a car accident…is he my father? No- Wait that can’t be… I asked him is he my father? He went silent…then he started to pull something out… a note. He gave it to me… it read “Dear my perfect girl…Happy 8th Birthday, Your dad my mom are looking forward to see you on your birthday! From your Lovely Dad” I remember… I was in school when he sent it to me. I asked where he got it, he replied “home…home” Home? I asked him when will we reach home… he stayed quiet…