Reflective
It was the greatest holiday ever. Until the call came. It destroyed the holiday, yet more to it,
it marked the end of an era you could say, of my life. I was nine, sitting in my Uncle's house in Hong
Kong. The call was long and subdued. The whispering through the phone, lulled me to sleep. The next
thing I knew, was my Aunt shaking me awake. She whispered that we must leave and the flight was in
several hours. I asked why, but the only answer I received was a pained look. I was confused,and scared.
I didn't understand what was happening. I knew something was wrong, I did not know what, but I knew
something was amiss. Slience was most prominate throughout the journey. I thought over what could
have happened, I could have never guessed what had truely happened. Never could I have guessed.
Mulling over this on my journey home, I arrived in Ireland. I was told that my plane home, back to Scotland
would be the next day.
I stepped into my house, unware of grief of the occupates until, creaking open the living room door.
My family was there, They sat around my mother. My mother...Her eyes were red, and she was curled up
into a foetal position. Her eyes went wide as she saw me standing in the doorway, and slowly like a dam
had been broken, her tears resurfaced, flowering from her eyes, to slip silently down her face. I didn't know
what to do. I had never seen an adult cry before. What were thoughs tear for? I was terrified, couldn't
understand, why. I stepped up to my mother, and held her hand. I asked her what was wrong, why she was
crying. She lefted her head towards me, and cried out in a voice I didn't recondise, " Your father is DEAD!!"
My eyes widened in horror, no, no I couldn't believe it. It couldn't be true. This only happened to
other people, not me, not this family. I couldn't, wouldn't believe it. "NO!!" I screamed at...
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