"𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕚𝕤, 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖."
-𝔹𝕦𝕕𝕕𝕙𝕒
⇝
Mason
"Mason." Mrs. Bunsenetti whispered causing me to look up from my textbook.
"Yes?"
"The principal would like to see you." She spoke quietly, she was slightly hunched over to make sure that no one else was able to hear. My eyebrows furrowed at her words. I had never been called down by the principle. My mind began to race with every possible thought of what I could've done wrong. My palms began to sweat as I gathered my things and placed them into my bag, my hands were shaking slightly which caused me to drop a few things. I did my best to ignore the looks that I was getting as I made my way out of the classroom. My heart was hammering in my chest as I rounded the corner, the office coming into view. Hesitantly, I turned the handle and stepped inside the office; a soft hint of vanilla wafting into my face.
Just as I opened my mouth to speak, the receptionist gave me a sad smile, odd, before picking up the phone and letting Principle Jones know that I was here. A wooden door opened to my left, drawing my attention. Principle Jones stood in the doorway, a slight grimace enveloping his face. What the hell was with the sympathetic looks? "Come on in, Mason." He stepped aside to let me through.
My stomach churned the second I stepped into his office, noticing the two officers standing beside his desk. The door shutting, loudly, caused me to jump. My mind continued to swirl with possible scenarios that could've brought me to here. What were the police doing here anyway? I was too young to go to jail. I couldn't even think of what I possibly did to earn myself a conversation with two police officers.
"Ms. Miller?" The taller of the two spoke up, his voice seeming louder in the silence of the room.
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry but," He paused, glancing at his partner for a moment before clearing his throat. "But your father," Pausing yet again, he heaved out a quiet breath, remorse covering his face. "your father has passed away."
I stared at him blankly, my eyes blinking while the rest of my body stayed frozen. Did he just say my father died? No, He couldn't have. "I'm sorry, what?" My forehead scrunched, my mind not fully comprehending what was being said.
"Your father was shot."
"What?" I choked, grabbing ahold of the chair beside me to keep me from collapsing.
"There was a robbery at Joel's Garage and your father, he tried to stop them and he got hit. They tried everything they possibly could to save him."
"No."
"Ms. Miller, I'm sorry for your loss."
"No. No. He's not dead. You're lying. He's not dead. My dad's not dead."
"Mason." Mr. Jones spoke up but all I could do was continually shake my head. He wasn't dead. He couldn't be.
"I know this is hard.,"
"No! He's not. He's not dead. I just saw him this morning." My breathing began to increase, my chest rising and falling rapidly. " We, we ate breakfast together. He made me bacon and eggs with chocolate chip pancakes because they're my favorite. He gave me a ride to school, he kissed my forehead. He, he said he loved me and he'd see me after school and we'd go out to eat. We always go out to eat on Fridays." I sobbed. "He's not dead, no. He can't be. He's my dad. He can't be. He's all I've got." My body began to shake with each sob ripped through my throat. "He's all I've got. He's my dad."

YOU ARE READING
Mason
ChickLitMason Miller is a quiet, seventeen-year-old girl who's lived a normal, mundane life in Brighton, England. With a mother that left when she was just hours old, it's always just been her and her dad; whom she loves very much. In the blink of a...