When I lost my world.

Its rather….dramatic. My mum and I were re-organising our new home and I saw pictures of my dad’s funeral. It all came back.

Not all actually. There is not vivid memory of the funeral in my mind. I was only 12 and it all happened too quickly. Hours seemed like minutes. From the second my maid banged on the bedroom door to the second my mum came home from hospital telling me my dad was dead. She hugged me and cried after breaking the news.

I did not know how to react and I kept quiet. I was not really sad back then. I could not feel his absence yet. Dead? Whats that, mommy? Thats how I felt. I was used to my dad being away and coming home late due to his job. So his death did not hit me until days later.

To me, my dad was my everything. My eyes, my ears, my world. He showed me all the things in my world, he taught me all the thing in my world. He gave me the world. Without him, I was nothing.

People said I was not a good child. I was not sad during the funeral. Even my mum said that. Little did they know. I always hid in my room and cried. I love my dad so much. How could I not be sad. I lost my world. How could I not be sad.

My life was changed overnight. Changed forever. For good or for worse? Its left for others to judge. To me, no matter how good things hava changed to be, losing my father, my world, will never be viewed as something good. To me, his death has became a wound to me. A wound which will never heal.

I will forever curse the person who pulled the trigger. I hope your children will go through the pain which I have been going through.

I miss you, Daddy.