My Own Worst Nightmare.

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When I asked Father to join me that night in our "Secret Spot," It was not to hurt him or myself. It wasn't to do anything more than speak the truth. He deserved the truth, which was much more than I could give him. So I sat on a bench under a willow tree in Heiwa Park. It was my mother's favorite; she used to tell me it meant peace and Harmony in Japanese. My mother was a beautiful woman; I miss her a lot. When Father arrived, he sat beside me and gave me a worried expression.

"What is so important you couldn't tell me over the phone?" Feeling a lump form in my throat, I look down at my trembling hands and reply,

"Father, You know I love you dearly, But there is a complication in my life. We agreed when I was 18 that I was to go to college and get a good life. Well, I can't. No matter how much I want to, I can't. Classes are becoming too stressful, and my tuition is too expensive for me to pay any more, and I'm afraid, Father, that I will have to drop out." Feeling the weight of the truth being lifted off my chest felt great, But feeling the burden of the hurt I put on my father crushed me, and I couldn't help but let myself tear up. We both sat for a moment in silence, and all I could think was how I was a horrible child. I couldn't even give my Father, the man who raised me, the one thing in the world that he wanted most for me. To succeed. To have a life and have a chance to live. When he finally spoke, all he said was,

"Y/N, my child, I love you very much; I want you to be happy. I'll get the money to pay for your classes; as for the rest, you'll need to work through your stress." Tears sprung from my eyes. I had already put so much stress on my father, and now this, He was like a superhero. I was hurting the man that had raised me for years, But what could I do? I was his everything, and with that came sacrifices. Father grabbed my hand and let me to his car, where he drove us to a bank. It frightened me; Father had been Bankrupt for years and had no money, but to be at a bank right now meant that either he had money I didn't know about or That something horrible was about to go down. Walking into the Bank, my father gave me a reassuring smile that gave me comfort but also gave my stomach a horrendous feeling. While I sat in the car, my mind raced; All I could think about was that something terrible would happen and that I couldn't save him Or that I had gotten him into this mess. What a horrible child I am. Then, from nowhere, I hear the sounds of screams and gunshots. Fear runs through my body, and I jump from the car, racing to the door, but it's locked. Banging and Banging with all my might won't break; I even try throwing my whole body weight into the door, but nothing happens.

Peering through the door, I can see a glimpse of my Father with a gun to a child's head. That man couldn't have been the father I knew. The man I knew and loved could never hold a GUN to a six-year-old girl's head demanding money so I could go to COLLEGE!!!! He was so stupid. Then, as suddenly as it happened, it ended. He collapsed on the floor, clutching his chest and gagging—a Heart Attack. Screaming and banging on the door for someone to help him, the girl's father picked up the gun and shot him point blank in the middle of the forehead. And that was it. That was how I lost my father. 

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