Genre: Nonfiction

Seconds turned into minutes. Minutes into hours. Yet, I stayed still on my bed, eyes open and brimming with unshed tears.

I couldn’t believe what I just heard. No, I didn’t want to believe it. It just couldn’t be true. Impossible! My mind rejected the ludicrous statement. It couldn’t be. God wouldn’t allow it; my mum had prayed; pastors had convened; my siblings had fasted and praised.

So, why… why did I feel cold inside? Why had dread overtaken my heart? Why had tears started falling down my cheeks? It couldn’t be because it was true. I couldn’t possibly believe those… those claims. It was a lie. God wouldn’t – couldn’t – fail me like this.

Couldn’t he?

I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head frantically. I shouldn’t think like that, yet how else was I to think? Wasn’t he the one that promised to protect those that believed in him? My dad wasn’t a model believer, but he still believed. He wasn’t perfect, but he tried his best. And my mum more than made up for his shortcomings. Between the both of them, shouldn’t they be able to weather through any and every storm?

“Emeka?” a pause and a sniffle. “Please, it’s going to be okay – everything’s going to be okay. You just have to be strong. For your mother and…”

My pulsed raised in my veins and my hands shook in place. My mouth was agape but unable to get in enough air even though my chest rose and fell rapidly. Everything became simultaneously too loud and too quiet, and involuntarily, my arms wrapped themselves around the teddy bear beside me. I tried to regain composure, but at that moment, I heard – Oh, they have been told.

The screams of my distraught siblings washed over me from downstairs, and at that moment, I wonder why us. Why was my family chosen to bear this pain? Couldn’t the storm strike the other boats on this unfair ocean called life? As a matter of fact, wouldn’t it have been better if I was the one that died? I was the prodigal son. The black sheep of the family. The failure. Eighteen, yet I had nothing to show for it. I had achieved nothing. Instead, I…

With a strangled cry, I fell back on my bed. Under the thick blanket and curled in a fetal position, I buried my face in my hands as long agonizing sobs wracked my body to the point of convulsion. My teddy was pressed plush against my body as the hot and salty tears continued to flow, robbing me of the ability to speak – barely allowing a breath to be drawn.

I don’t want this. I just want my dad back. I just want him alive.