Poems and Others

The World Stops (Final Draft)

I hear a knock at the door and I roll over to look at the clock; it's 12:22. I get out of bed and walk down the stairs and turn the porch light on. I stand by the door and open it only a crack so I can just barely see the people standing on the porch. They are two police officers, their coats splattered with rain. I open the door more so they can see only my face. "Hello," I hesitate.

One of the officers reaches out to shake my hand but I don't. He lets his hand drop to his side and takes his hat off, reaching up to scratch his white mustache. "I'm chief Tussy," he says.

I recognized the other, our resource officer at school, everyone called him rent-a-cop. "I'm officer Harget," he says.

I politely nod at the two, closing my door a little more. "May I help you with something? My dad's not home, he's on a business trip in Texas," I ask and yawn.

"You're Zara Thompson correct?" officer Harget asks me. I nod. "Something's happened," he replies.

"What?" I ask confused. They stay silent. I get kind of pissed when they don't answer, but I think I know what they're talking about. "What happened to my dad," I demanded as fear floods my body.

"May we come in? You'll need to sit down," chief Tussy says.

I open the door and step back, allowing access. They step in and politely wipe their feet. "Please, sit down," I say gesturing towards the couch. I turn the lights on and shut the door as they sit. I pace the floor by the kitchen doorway.

"How old are you?" he asks me now.

"16, I turn 17 in March," I reply. We sit in a weird silence.

"Are you aware that there has been a plane crash in Kansas?" chief Tussy asks me.

I nod. "Yeah, I heard some news lady talking about it when I was looking for something to watch," I say. We sit in silence, every second that passes feels like an hour.

"Your father was on that plane," officer Harget says sorrowfully.

I snort and laugh a little. "No, sorry, you have the wrong person, my dad doesn't come back until Wednesday," I say, relaxing some. I know that can't be my dad.

"Your dad is Kevin Thompson right?" chief Tussy asks. I nod, still not believing them. "Is he about 6 feet 2 inches? Brown hair?" he asks.

I nod, my heart sinking. "Wait what, my dad? Are you sure it's my dad?" I ask as tears start to fill my eyes.

"This is the address that the detectives gave us," he says. I just stand there, shocked. My dad couldn't be on that plane. "Zara, we're so sorry," chief Tussy says. "We looked over your dad's will, he left everything to you, but the house," he says, opening up an envelope in his hand.

"B-but-," I couldn't finish. I still couldn't get over the fact that my dad was alive, healthy, and now he's dead.

"It says here that he wants you to live with Nick," he says glancing over the sheet, "your boyfriend Nick."

I just stand there. Chief Tussy puts a hand on my shoulder in a comforting manner. "We're so sorry, Zara."

I don't say anything, I just stand there. My eyes full of tears.

The officers show themselves the way out, and I just fall on the couch. Tears pour down my cheeks, I still couldn't believe it. I lay there, not breathing, in total silence until sleep grips me and holds me.

I wake up to my head pounding. I roll over on my back on the couch and moan as my movement sends an even bigger rush of pain around my skull. I rub my eyes that are crusted from the many hours of crying; I don't think I've ever cried that much in my life, I don't think I can cry anymore. I look around the room, the suns poking through my blinds, casting rays on my dad's chair. I close my eyes again and take a deep breath. I grab my phone off the floor and push a button, lighting up the screen to reveal twelve missed messages. I open my inbox and go down to the bottom of the waiting list.