Game Over.

Chapter 17

'Life is full of choices,
Don't regret what happens because in the end,
you chose it!'

- Unknown.

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Recap from chapter 16.

I turned back around and swallowed a deep breath inside before I finally found courage to sit down and read the 3 boards, which gave information about the people burried inside.

I started to read the first board...

-

Tears filled my eyes as I started to read the board placed on top of the first grave.

I was standing infront of a grave of a man who made me who I am, who made me proud and argueably sad too, whenever I thought of him.

A man who was the reason I was here, the reason of me being in this world.

The reason for me to be here at this place, infront of his grave.

He was a crazy bird who flew away, and left me and mother alone to struggle in this unfair world.

Father was a warrior, a soldier who always protected us from the dark shadows, no matter how dark they were.

He was the sunlight that ended our dark nights.

With tears still raining down my disappointed eyes, I read the board;

'Mr.Kim Watson,

8th May 1968 - 2nd April 2014.

Murdered at 45 years of age.'

My eyes wide opened as I re-read the lines,

'Murdered at 45 years of age.'

Who ever had burried him would have definetly knew how he had died.

Or maybe, the murderer burried him here, and it could be no other but Jay.

He was the one who was here, less then a hour back.

He was probably here, for this purpose.

I continiously dropped tears on his grave and reminisced about the times we had when I was young, I reminisced about the time when I was in nursery school.

In nursery I didn't have too many friends.

But I never felt left out, there was always one friend who filled my emptiness with joy.

It was always always dad.

I remembered how he would request teachers to let him into the play area inside school at lunch times.

My memmory was very sharp, I could remember things that happend years back, bit by bit.

I remembered he used to step into sand and make sand castles with me, despite the fact that he hated sand, he could not stand it, but because sand castles were my favourite, we always made them.

I remembered the times of nursery when he would bring playing blocks to play with me in school, he would first build buildings then break them with me, to see me smile.

Often parents and teachers would back bite about him negatively, but surely if I saw them back biting, he would have seen them back bite too.

It didn't make a difference to him, he would still always come everyday, every single day.

He was an inspiration, I loved him more then myself, more then anything that existed in this world.

I helplessly drowned in another flashback, I remembered the time when I was in 8th standard.