The Day He Died

The day he died was like any other day. A day I may never forget.
I don’t understand how a moment in time can change your life so much. It can be for the best and it feels like the worst. The day my father died was the day my life changed forever.
It was a warm, sunny August day like any other, it was our special day we did once a month. Ever since mom took off and dad had to get a second and third job and I had to get a job on top of school to help out around the house, we really didn’t get the chance to spend time with each other like we used to. I think that may have been one of the reasons to my mom leaving but that is another story.
Today dad got off the whole entire day, normally that didn’t happen, but his bosses were in a good mood. I was so excited. I may be fifteen, but the thought of getting to spend the whole day with him uninterrupted was a dream come true.
We had plans to get up and watch the sun rise and go to bed well after the stars shone in the skies. We lived surrounded by water we had an amazing view of the sunrise and at night since we lived on an island in the middle of Lake Huron. We could see miles and miles of stars. That was the greatest part of our home.
It started out the greatest day in my fifteen years. Peacefulness while we watch the sunrise and making plans of what to do with the rest of our day. In the end we decided that staying at home and just spending time together was the best idea. Both of us had been really busy lately and haven’t been able to just relax and not have to think about where to go next. I think this was our biggest mistake of all the choices we made that day. If we didn’t stay home like I insisted we would never have been there when the men came. We would never have tried to fight back. I would have never had to see the most important person in my life die.
It was one in the afternoon when they came. They must have been expecting an empty house because when they saw us they looked confused and a little shocked. That didn’t last long. Even if they weren’t expecting it to be empty they came armed, and that never ends well for anyone.
There were five of them. All of them stood over six feet with broad shoulder and ski masks that must have been very hot in the heat of that August day. Only one of them talked, he ordered his men around and us. We did as we were told, not wanting to loss the other and not caring about the objects they were planning on taking from our home. Those things could be replaced and we really didn’t have anything of value. Only some older paintings and some cash around our home. We never needed expensive things, unlike my mom.
I think the moment they killed my father was an accident, but it still brought my world down. No matter why it happened, it happened.
Two of the men got in an argument over what sounded like this being a bigger score then what they had found. I think they were expecting a lot more expensive items from someone living on their own island. I think they expected rich people, not people working three jobs just too keep this little paradise.
The gun went off unexpectedly in the middle of the argument. No one, not even me thought anything of it. I have to admit it scared me, but what are the odds of it hitting my father in the chest.
I sat there staring at these men, terrified. That is when I heard it, it was like a gurgling sound coming from somewhere close to me. I don’t scare easily but something in that sound made my blood run cold.
I looked at my father and screamed. I still don’t know if it was terror or sadness that made me scream, all I know is that I had to or I would explode. The men stopped arguing and started to panic. This was not in their plan, I could see that in their eyes.
As I pressed my hands to the wound to help stop the bleeding, the leader, the only one who talked except for that one argument yelled at the rest of them to get back into the boat and run like there was no tomorrow. They left me there alone, bound, with my father bleeding out and me not knowing what to do next.
The only thing that made me move was my father whisper, “Call 9-1-1”
It was too late. Living on an island is great for the sky and peace of mind, but it is harder to get help when it is needed. He died in my arms five minutes before the paramedics arrived to help. The only thing they could do was help me.
It took them fifteen more minutes to get me to let my father go. It’s going to be a lifetime before I ever forget him and that moment.

It has been two years since that happened. The day he died. Living with my mom isn’t what I call happy, but it is better than some other life I could have had. I now go to high school, not home schooled like before. It is never going to be the same as before. I miss him everyday and my heart feels like I am missing a big piece of it since the day he died. The way he died will live in my soul of the rest of my days.
The day my father died reminds us of how we should live our lives. We should never back down, we should protect the people not the things we value, and we should live every moment like it is our last. There are many things that can be replaced in our lives, but the things that can’t are the things that hold the most value in our hearts.
I now live my life for happiness like what my father wanted. I live my life to make him proud. I live for him, since on the day he died I knew I was loved and would always feel that love in my heart.