meghan trainor oneshots // m.t

6.6 • Dear Dad

Everyone's in black. I don't like it. It's like this packed room of people have all taken on the one color that screams gloom, even though that's not what you would've wanted. I can imagine you grinning from ear to ear, a glint in your eye as you wore a shirt so packed with color I couldn't even recognize some of them. You would hate it here. All this sadness would bring you down, and you'd dance and jump around without a care in the world to cheer everyone up. Except, you can't.

So many words, condolences, tears, sobs, all flying around the room, making me dizzy. I can't breathe. I'm being suffocated by the sheer amount of people; it's squeezing the air out of my lungs when the walls close in on me because I haven't eaten in what feels like forever, but in reality is just since the last time you smiled at me; the amount of people you touched the hearts of stole my breath and replaced it with sobs filled with the pride and love I held for you, but also the sadness that won't leave because of your absence.

Once the ceremony started, not a tear left my eye. I sat there, emotionless, my new black dress having no meaning. It's just another day. The vicar's at the front, I can see his mouth moving, but I don't hear the words coming out. All I can hear is snippets of his speech, a bible reading no doubt, despite the fact you weren't all that religious. "He will be missed": understatement of the century. I won't miss you, I'll never miss you, I'll just cry at how the man that I once relied upon for advice, and unconditional love is no longer there to make me laugh when I need it most. I will never miss you, I'll just need someone who can't be there.

"Now, we've got a few words from Meghan," the vicar spoke, his wispy white hair falling in front of his tired blue eyes. I swallow nervously, my eyes snapping up to meet his from where they had previously been fixated on my black nail polish. I stand up, my legs shakier than I was expecting, as I start to make my way to the front. As I try to push past all of the people to get to the end of the row, mom catches my sweaty hand in hers and squeezes it through her tears. I draw in a long, shaky breath when I reach the microphone on the alter, my trembling hands clutching a crumpled piece of paper.

"I... I didn't write a song, or a poem, or anything like that," I started, emotion straining my voice, and tears beginning to sting the back of my eyes. Keep it together. "I wrote a letter. It's more personal. A letter of the things I want to say to him," I start to feel a sob rising in my throat, so pause to try and push it back down. My eyes wander  to Ryan, who's also crying a little, but trying not to show it. He gives me a thumbs up, encouraging me to continue.

"Dear dad," I whisper, having to pause again to wipe away my tears. "Firstly, I miss you. Secondly, since you left us without you, I've been replaying memories, over and over and over like a broken record. The second I heard the beep of your heart monitor go flat, I was suddenly in my bedroom again, and I was 3 years old."

/

I was sat in my bedroom in Nantucket. The walls around me were various shades of pink, each wall either lighter or darker than the one beside it. My dollhouse was open wide, all of my dolls sprawled out around me as I sung a song you'd taught me. I somehow hit every note, using my hot pink hairbrush as a microphone and I pronounced a few of the words wrong. Once I'd finished, a lone applause from the door caught my attention, and my head snapped up to see you leaning against the door frame. "Beautiful, honey," you said proudly, beaming from ear to ear. I shot you a toothy grin.

"Thank you, dadda," I smiled, holding out my arms to be picked up. "Can we dance, dadda?" I questioned, looking hopefully at you, and you nodded.

"Of course, baby girl!" you chuckled, making me giggle as you spun me around in the air, keeping a tight grin on my armpits so I wouldn't fall. "What song do you want to dance to?" I shrugged my shoulders, looking at you thoughtfully. You just chuckled then spun me around again. "Why don't we make our own?"