The Good Girl And The Cigarette

Prologue: "I'll be back as soon as possible"-

Important:

I just wanted to let you all know that I know this book isn't the best book you will read.

I wrote this book about an year ago. To be honest, I never planned on publishing this book, I wrote it just for fun. But I finally decided that I have nothing to lose so why not publish it?

Please no hate comments. If you don't like the book, you are more than welcome to exit this book and read something else.

Thank you.

~10 years ago~

"Daddy where are you going?" I asked him in a sad tone. Today was Christmas Eve, is daddy really going to leave us alone? He usually does, but never at a Christmas Eve...

"Darling, I'll be back as soon as I can. Daddy has a little mission." He said as he ruffled my hair.

"Yeah Anya, Daddy always has a little mission. Nothing new." My older brother, Stefan said with an annoyed tone.

"Kids, give your father a break. He'll be back as soon as possible. Right, John?" My mother said and gave my father a curious look. It seems like my mother didn't really like the idea, but then again, it's not her choice to make.

"Yeah, I will." My father sent us a small smile but all I can see by his look is a sad look. "I'll be back as soon as possible. You won't even notice I left." He added with a small but an unconvincing chuckle.

After my father left, we didn't even eat. I mean, yeah I was hungry but it seemed like my mother had no appetite. We were sitting on the couch and decided to watch SpongeBob. Usually when my brother and I  watch SpongeBob, we always discuss about the characters and we pretend that he is SpongeBob and I am Patrick. But today... something was just off.

Another hour went by and I felt sleepy. My Mother, on the other hand, still looked concerned. I looked up at her and she sent me a reassuring smile. But still, not convincing. "Mommy?"

"Yes darling?"

"Why are you so concerned?" I asked in a worried tone. Everyone around me are always so impressed that I can read people easily. I guess it's just something I'm good at.

"I'm not, hunny. Go to sleep, it's late." She said and played with my brown hair.

I looked up at her again, and easily, I can tell that she is lying. "Mommy... you know that you can't lie to me, right?"

"I know, Yaya," she paused and called me by my nickname. Do I hate this nickname? Yes. Do I have a choice? Not really. When I was younger I couldn't pronounce my name so I just called myself Yaya. I guess my family liked the nickname because now my name is Yaya... "I'm just waiting for your daddy."

I pushed myself to a sitting position and looked at her in a worried look. "Do you think Daddy is going to be okay?"

She sighed before answering my question truthfully . "I don't know. But I do know that it's 2am and you should get some sleep. I'll wake you up when I hear from daddy, deal?"

"Deal." I agreed with my mom and with that I gave up to the world of dreams.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I woke up to the sound of steps. I opened my eyes but my vision was a bit blurry from sleeping. "Anya, Stefan, wake up, now." My mother said in a worried tone. After a few seconds, my vision was back to normal and all I could see was my moms red and watery face. It seemed like she was crying and still is.

"What the hell?" My brother said with a confused expression. Yeah, my brother likes cursing even tho it drives my parents crazy. He's only twelve years old. We have 4 year of age difference, that makes me eight years old.

My mother took my hand and my brothers and pulled us so we were now standing. "No time for explanation, I'll tell you on the way. We have to go. Now."

With that, we went in the car and my mom started driving. She told us the whole story. Well, not exactly the whole story but what she did know for now. My father was shot. Twice. On the chest and shoulder. I felt my eyes begin to water. There's no way that he's going to die... right? Maybe they're mistaken and it's someone else. My dad is strong. He is a fighter. He will survive this...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"I'm sorry, but Mr. Mikaelson did not survive his injury's. I'm so sorry." Dr. Robbins, the one who was treating my father announced after we waited two hours in the waiting room.

My mother stood up from her chair with widened eyes. "What? No. There's no way! He won't leave us. He promised." She started screaming and crying.

My brother immediately stood up and hugged her while all I could do was sit in shock. I did not understand. That's why. I did not understand that my daddy won't come back to me. I did not understand that I won't see him again, ever. I did not understand that daddy is not going to read me a bedtime story, like every night. I just did not understand and I refuse to.

I blinked back to reality only to see my mother crying and hugging my brother. He did not cry but I can tell he was about to cry any minute. After a second, he looked at me with a concerned expression but all I could do is stare in shock. He mouthed me several times if I'm okay but I couldn't answer.

"C-can I see h-his b-b-body?" My mother mumbled and asked Dr. Robbins.

"Of course, but I don't recommend your kids come with you. It can be traumatic." She answered and whispered but it was obvious that Stefan and I heard her.

"Kids, stay right here. I'll be back in a couple of minutes." My mom whispered, her tears never stoping.

My brother just nodded his head while I was still in shock. Mother left with Dr. Robbins, leaving us by ourselves. He took a deep breath before talking. "Yaya are you okay...?" He asked, once again.

I turned to look at him. He looked devastated yet he is the one who is always taking care of my mother and I. "I don't know," I whispered. "Are you?"

He sighed and looked me in the eye. "Do you know what happened?"

I looked at him and then at the white walls. No. I did not know what just happened. It all seems like a blur. I know that I'm in the hospital but... "what happened?" I asked and swallowed nervously.

"Dad died," he said and for the first time, he cried. Real tears. Not allergy tears, or cutting onion tears but real tears, pain tears.

I was still in a shocking state and surprisingly, I did not cry. I tried, I tried to cry. But no tears came by. What is wrong with me? Why aren't I crying? I knew the answer.

The answer is because I'm not ready to accept his death. At least not now.