Here is a snippet of a book I am currently writing. Tell me what you think, whether good or terrible feedback. Thank you, and hope you enjoy it!
…“Have a lot of thinking to do, mental and physical relaxtion and a lot of crying.” My dad laughed. It feels good to see him smile. Since we heard the news, he has been so distraught. I have always been overprotective over my parents. I am an only child and they are my everything. It is killing me to see him so broken.
“It’s okay to cry. You just lost your soulmate.”
“We knew each other for 24 years. We met in the cafeteria freshman year of college at New York University. Graduated and brought this home together. Had you when we were 27. She has been my whole life, she and you. Now, half of my life is gone.” My dad sighed.
“I’m sorry dad.”
“She should have been burying me. Wives should outlive husbands.”
“She was too young only 42.”
“Why did they do this to us?” My dad cried making me cry.
I scooted over on the sectional next to him and hugged him as he cried into my shoulder.
“Things happen for a reason. Life works in mysterious ways.” I cried.
“Life is no fair.”
“We’ll be alright dad.”
“I really hope so. I just can’t see life past today. It’s like life doesn’t exist past today for me. How can I have a life without her? Without half of the reason of my existence gone”
“Don’t say that dad. You will be okay eventually.
“I’m sorry for being a bad parent right now. I just am hurting so bad darling.”
“I understand. And you haven’t done anything wrong dad. You’re just coping. “
“I should be comforting you though.”
“Dad, you lost your wife. Your soulmate way before you had me. I understand. We are comforting each other. It’s okay.”
“Just remember, everything will eventually be okay.”
“I hope so Quinn.” My dad sighed wiping tears from his face.
Today is Monday and I am being brave and going back to school. My friend Sammy tried to talk me out of coming, but I need to stay as normal as possible. Sitting at home mourning, like my dad, is unhealthy and kills a lot of time.
After a shower I changed into a pair of overalls, a leopard crop top, and my high top black converse. I never really worry about doing my hair. It’s a curly mess. It’s only to my shoulders, but getting a comb through it takes a lot of work.
I get downstairs and my dad is on the couch snoring, the television is still on from last night. He was watching his favorite show, Laughing Out Loud . It’s a whacky show about pretty much everything. They do a bunch of different skits making fun of people and places and society.
Even though my dad is watching his favorite show still, the house just feels so weird and cold and empty.
The living room is still the same. The large grey sectional in the center of the room full of colorful throw pillows, the lime green carpet, the coffee table with a cup stain stuck to it from years ago when my dad left a drink on it once that sat there for days because we had went out of town, the shelf holding the large flatscreen television, all of the family pictures covering the wall, the wall covered in floating shelves full of books…
I slowly walked over to the couch and grabbed the remote to turn the television off. I walked into the kitchen to grab a snack for a breakfast. The house is usually filled with the smell of coffee. My mom kept a stock of Starbucks coffee beans in the house and she made a cup of coffee every morning. I grabbed a banana and a yogurt and sat at the counter.
I looked around the kitchen. It looks the same, but it doesn’t feel the same sitting in it. All of the awards and pictures and lists on the refrigerator feel so outdated now, the chalkboard cabinets look foreign, and the colorful touches just don’t feel right. The green stools don’t even feel comfortable anymore.
I finished my quick breakfast and checked my phone. I still have five minutes before Sammy picks me up. She turned sixteen before me and got her license already. We always carpool to school. Her mother used to take us, now we go ourselves.
I walk back into the living room and my dad is still asleep. I can imagine how exhausted he is…”