The Victim

67| little one

Levine 

Two years later

I stare at the picture of my dad and I. It was the picture  we took on graduation day. The smile on my face then was as real as it could be.

Graduation  day, wasn't the best day. It was the day where we all thought we had buried my best friend, my sister. My heart still aches, it made me realize how short life  really was. She could've  died.

She didn't, but my dad did.

After Serine's birthday  party,  I was woken up by a phone call.

***

I could hear my phone ringing, it's default ring tone knocking me out of my slumber.  There were pillows all over the room--  and the room I was in, was not mine. I frown, slowly sitting upright and yawn slightly. I grab my phone  on chest- off- drawer and answer the call. Not even bothering to look who it was, that was calling me.

My palm, rests on my forehead and I tilt my head back slightly.

Fuck, I think I drank a little too much last night.

"Sweetie," I hear my mom's voice, it sounds so strained.  "Mom? Mom
what's up? Do you know what time it is?"

"Levine, baby, are you sitting down?" I finally hear something different. Her voice breaks down by the last word. "Momma what happened?"

"Sweetheart-" I hear her cry. This causes my mind to wonder. "Last night--" She pauses.  "your father died,"

I freeze.

Time stopping.

I start to feel dizzy.

I wanted so badly to tell her she was lying. To hope that this was all a bad dream and that none of what she said made sense. But I knew she wouldn't  lie about something like that. "Sweetheart?" She says after she notices my line went flat.

I drop the phone, hanging up before  she could say anything else.

"AHHH!"

***

I shed a tear at the memory. He died on the very night everything  seemed to be going so well. And I barely even knew. The last call I had with him, was me telling him I was excited  about Serine's  birthday party. He said he was proud of me. He said he loved me, and he loved that he and momma raised a strong baby girl.

It's not everyday  you hear such a thing.

All my life I lived wanting to satisfy my parents because they  worked so hard to have everything they had now. I didn't want to be a disappointment. I loathed the thought of me, being the only child and barely having something my parents couldn't be proud about.

I wanted more for myself.

So when he died, it all felt useless. It was like someone had just amputated my  legs. Because without  them, there was a lot  I couldn't do. A lot I would struggle with. I wouldn't be able to move, I wouldn't be able to function the same.