Finding my Happiness

Heaven Can Wait

June 25th has huge significance in my life. For starters, it's the day I was born but there are three main reasons why I just hate when my birthday rolls around. One, my mom left me on my 10th birthday, two, Michael Jackson died on my 11th, and three, my dad died on my 16th.

I remember those three separate occasions the most out of all the memories I've had in my life, but nothing shook me more to my soul than seeing my father dead right in front of me. This birthday started and went about like any other but this part of my life starts right around 7 p.m. as the street lights just began to come on. I arrive back from my summer job at the mall, my dad was still at work right around the block at Buddy's Mechanic shop and at the time. We were living with my grandma because my burnt out mom burned our house down after my dad wouldn't let her stay. So we moved in, just until we got back on our feet....we never got the chance tho. When I get to the house I see a car that was unfamiliar to me, my grandmother was sitting on the porch that day sipping on a glass of lemonade as if awaiting my arrival.

Long story short, she told me how my dad brought me this old, candy apple Honda Civic for my birthday. Any spoiled teenager probably woulda look at this car and think it's a piece of shit, but to me, it was beautiful and I was just so thankful I didn't have to take the bus anymore. I was so happy and excited when she told me that but I was sad and a little disappointed that my dad wasn't there to see my face. From what my grandma told me, my dad brought the car hella cheap and did all the mechanic work on it just to make sure it ran properly and was perfectly safe for his babygirl. So I decided to drive it to the shop to thank him for the amazing gift, I just couldn't wait to race up to him, give him a big ol kiss on the cheek, and tell him how excited I was, even knowing no words could touch that. I always wondered what if I just decided to wait for my father to get home or if I just made it to the shop 5 minutes earlier or even 2, maybe fate would've been on my side. I know I shouldn't do this to myself and "it's not my fault" but sometimes even knowing how fate works, those what if's remain in the back of my mind, waiting to poke through at the moments I'm already feeling my lowest...but I'm getting off topic..it was about a 2 minute drive to get to his job.

I remember playing my music hella loud almost shouting to the world that this girl got a car and you better watch out because I'm THAT bitch. I was about 30 seconds away from the shop when I heard popping sounds. My music was so loud I thought it was part of the song and listening to trap music, it's not unfamiliar to hear gun shots, so I didn't pay it any mind. 5 seconds later I see a black SUV screeching around the corner speeding down the street, yet again, not thinking nothing of it because this is the ghetto. As I pull up everything looks normal, that's until I start to have this strange feeling pooling in the pit of stomach and get a funny taste in my mouth. I pull in and I see my dads truck and I hear the engine running with the panic alarm blasting every 2 seconds, the headlights flashing in the darkness. The shop was all closed up, so I already knew that my dad should've been on his way home very soon.... I was honestly confused at first cause the shop was already locked up, so I know he wasn't inside and the way his truck was acting, I slowly went into panic mode, why hadn't he turned it off yet, where was he? I get out the car and call out for him. I remember calling out at least 3 times. No response. Slowly walking toward his truck, goosebumps prickle the back my neck and my scalp like the feeling you get when being watched or if you're home alone and you get that uneasy feeling, I start noticing bullet casings sprinkled all around the ground like they were purposely placed and the pungent odor of gun powder still filled the air. Inching closer and closer , I see that my dad is in his truck, I didn't see him at first because night had fallen giving no light and he was slumped over as if he had fallen asleep at the wheel, my attention then goes to the bullet holes on the driver side door. Panic mode then reaches full effect when I get close enough to see blood dripping down his face and chest, scarlet and shining slightly from the headlights that provided no help when I first came in. Blood was sprayed all over the windshield like something straight outta a Tarantino movie, broken glass from the driver side window all over the the ground and inside the vehicle. A blood curdling cry can be heard echoing off the walls that I don't even recognize as my own and I begin to feel my heart fall out of my body and shatter right in front of me, I feel light headed and nauseous all at once, I can still picture the heavy blackness that surrounded me like a thick mist. My dad, my dad...the one parent that I had left, the one who was gonna give us a better life..was supposed to be on his way home to us. I can't tell you what happened after...It was an outer body experience, like I was looking in on somebody else's nightmare who's dad looked exactly like mine. The last thing I remember is the cops and ambulance arriving but it was all a blur, I just remember flashing lights and muffled voices. I sat there with my dad's lifeless body in my arms, until they came I assume, I don't remember when I pulled his body out of the truck but I do remember not wanting to let go. I don't even remember when I called the cops, if I'm even the one who did. I just remember feeling numb to everything but pain, agonizing, gut wrenching pain..tears soaked my face like I was just sitting in a down pour of rain. I couldn't breathe anymore and when I did, it was as if someone had been choking me and I was grasping for air...this man was my air, my fucking heart. The police were prying me off him so that they can assess the crime scene but I wasn't going to let him go. I couldn't let him go, if I did..then I'd have to return to reality and this would all be real and I couldn't face that, even 6 years later and I still keep it pushed deep down, a distant memory that has no business being at the forefront of my mind. Eventually, I was pulled away and I began to break down even harder than before and screaming out for my father, he was gone and I didn't even get to say goodbye..Why would someone do this?! He was coming home to celebrate my birthday! I didn't even get to show him how happy I was to receive his wonderful gift... It just felt like I was dreaming and sometimes, I think I still am...I had my father's blood all over me when my grandma arrived at the scene, so much so, that the paramedics thought I had been shot too, at least that's what my grandma told me. She looked at me and saw all the blood on my face, hands, and clothes. I didn't even have to say who's blood it was, she knew...