Fan Fiction ❯ When I'm Gone ❯ When I'm Gone ( Chapter 1 )

A long sigh escaped my lips as I glanced out the window. Raindrops connected with the window, gently gliding down the glass and to the pane. My vision blurred and then two tears rolled down my cheeks and I brushed them away. I didn't want to shed tears for unforgotten memories. Memories that weren't supposed to mean anything to me, memories that have made me broken, memories I wish I didn't have.

I glanced over toward the driveway, off towards the right, and longed to see the old, red Gallant that used to be parked there. Longing to see the male step out of the driver side and grab his briefcase in one hand while holding a cell phone to his ear in the other. Another tear dropped from my eye, sliding down my pale cheek and I hastily wiped it away.

I rose from my seat on the couch and passed a family picture. I paused, turning to face it and saw the happy faces of every one. We were all there, my two brothers, my sister, my mother, me, and my father. Every one was present. A small smile played its way on my lips before I headed towards the kitchen. A memory ran through my mind as I picked a cup from the cupboard.

------

"Daddy, look at this drawing! I made it especially for you," I beamed as I threw my arms up in the air, the picture within my small hands.

You paced back and forth in your bed room, looking for something. "That's nice, sweetie."

I frowned; you hadn't even looked at it. "Daddy, you didn't even look," I whined.

You turned around and gave an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry sweetie, but I've got a plane to catch. Show me when I come back."

I nodded my head, a frown still present on my lips.

"Aha!"

I watched you pick up a note book and then dash out of the room. I followed closely behind and observed as you kissed Mommy goodbye on the cheek and ruffled my hair before you headed out the door, keys in hand, jacket resting over your forearm, briefcase in the other hand. You threw your items in the back seat and climbed inside the driver side.

I slowly walked up to the glass door and watched solemnly as you backed out of the drive way before driving off towards the airport. All I wanted was for you to look at my picture I drew for you. It was a picture of you. You were standing outside the house, dressed in a suit, cell phone attached to your ear, briefcase in the other hand, with a quote off to the right.

"I'm busy sweetie, go play somewhere else."

I wanted for you to see that picture; I drew it especially for you.

-----

I took a sip of the water I had just poured into my cup as I blinked away the memory of that day. I was five when that happened, Dad. If you had seen the picture, perhaps you would have changed. But you didn't. Instead, you ignored it and flew off to Colorado. You had a conference to attend to.

I slammed the cup down onto the counter. If you hadn't-! Daddy, why?! Why? I loved you, wasn't that enough? Or did the love for your work consume you? I remember those days where you would fly every week, every week you flew. Spending five days and four nights in hotel rooms, and only two nights at home. Two nights at home, Daddy. You grew apart from us, I no longer knew who you were. No longer did I know the man who I called "Daddy".

------

"Guess what sweetie," you said to me as you walked into the living room.

I glanced up at you, seeing your smiling face. "What?"

"I'm gonna stop flying around."

"Really?"

You nodded your head, "Mmhmm. I'm going to work at home now."

"That's great!"

"Yesterday was the last time I will ever fly."

I beamed at that. You were finally going to be apart of my life. I didn't care that you missed out for a few years, you could start anew as well as me.

------

I remember that day like it was yesterday. I was in the fifth grade when you told me that, Daddy. But what happened? Why did you leave me a week later?

------

"He baby?"

"Yeah Dad?"

"I've got to fly down to D.C. tomorrow."

"What," I asked angered.

"It'll only be for a few days."

"A few days?!"

"Honey, it's for work."

"It's always for work! You lied to me," I screamed at you. "You lied! You said you wouldn't fly any more! You said so yourself! You lied to me," I shouted as I slammed my bedroom door on you.

"Soñador," you announced my nickname, "open up."

"No! You lied!"

"Soñ-"

"Go away!"

I heard you sigh, but you left at that. I crawled onto my bed and silently wept. You lied and then walked away...

------

Daddy, why didn't you stay? Why weren't you more persistent when I told you to leave? We could have made it up if you tried harder. Daddy, why? I miss you...

------

"Dad, please don't go," I pleaded with you.

You let out a distressed sigh. "Soñador, you know I can't stay. Work's callin'."

"But I have an important volleyball game tomorrow! You promised you'd go! Dad! It's my first year on Varsity, how could you do this to me," I shouted at you, tears flowing down my cheeks.

"I'm sorry, I am. I didn't know work would call me in to fly out to Colorado."

"It's always Colorado! Or D.C.! When are you going to stay here! When are you going to settle down in Nashua?!"

"Sweetie, this is home to me-"

"No it's not. The hotel down in D.C. is your home. The people down there know you better then I know you."

"Soñador-"

"Whatever, here take this. I was saving this for tomorrow, but you won't be there."

I thrusted the unwrapped present into your arms. It was a watch I had bought you four days ago. With that in your hands, I stormed out of the room and out of the house.

------

I settled back down on the couch and continued to gaze out the window. I took another sip of my drink, memories flooding my mind. But why were they all so sad? Where are my happy memories with you, Dad? Did we have any? Or were they all bad? I remember that one day, when I received a button that said 'Number One Dad'. I wanted to give it to you so badly, but, you weren't the number one dad.

-----

"So how was school, baby?"

"Fine dad," I answered.

"Nothing interesting happened?"

I shook my head all the while fingering the button in my pocket. I wanted to hand it to you, smiling proudly and hugging you lovingly, but you weren't the 'Number One Dad'; you were one of the worst. You loved work more than you loved us. You better show 'em just how much you loved them or else it would be worthless for all the work you put into becoming the best.

"Bummer, well, I've got to get back to work. I'm turning on the light, so be quiet."

"Okay Dad," I answered back to your order.

I walked to my room and plopped down onto the bed. I pulled out the button and looked at it through blurry eyes.

"You always make me hurt, Dad. Why do you love work more than me?"

------

My vision blurred at that memory... that was only a few months ago. The next day you flew off to California. Business conference as usual. You were consumed by work, Daddy. And now you're not here anymore. Work has taken you away from me, work has taken away any chance of us becoming a family again. Daddy, I miss you, I've been missing you since I was a baby. Come back to me. How could you let work kill you? How?

I walked into my room and turned on the TV. The news cast was having a frenzy with trying to figure why the plane went down. No survivors, they kept repeating that over and over again. No survivors. I turned around to the sound of your cry. You were supposed to be on that plane, I hear you mutter. Daddy, I miss you. Why did you let work kill you? You were supposed to be on that plane, but yet, you're still dead. No one survived. I see you clutching a picture, a picture of me. Daddy, don't cry for me, I didn't feel a thing. I miss you though. I wish we could have done things differently, but things are done.

"I was supposed to be on that plane," I hear you mutter over and over again. Mom shushes you, trying her best to calm you down. Your fingers run shakily over my face, as the tears dropped like bombshells onto the frame and glass. I walk over towards you and sit down. I lean my head on your shoulder and glance at the letter in your hand. It's from me. I'm writing to you, telling you I've stolen your ticket and am taking the flight to D.C. wanting to see what was so great about it that you couldn't stay home and become the father that I always wanted. The plan was to go there, spend a few days, then come back. But that plan was altered. Something malfunctioned when we were over the ocean, the engines died, and the plane instantly headed straight for the water. The masks dropped down from their compartments and I quickly pulled it over my head, praying to God that I would make it out alive. I closed my eyes, squinting them shut, as I waited for impact. And when it came, I was thrusted forward. My body stayed in place, due to the seat belt, but my head slammed into the seat in front of me. I could hear my skull crack and I watched as my vision blurred with my own blood. Water surrounded the plane before breaking through the windows and filling the aluminum vehicle. We sunk further and further down into the vast ocean and before I knew it, I passed out and slowly drifted away from the world.

"It was supposed to be me on that plane," you cried out.

I pulled away, shocked by your sudden outburst as you stood up. You sobbed loudly, then dropped to your knees, cradling your head in your hands. Mom brought her hand up to her mouth as she watched you cry your heart out, sobbing, muttering "It was supposed to be me". Why Daddy? Why did we have to be this way? Why couldn't things be different? I miss you, Daddy. I do.

I stood up from the bed and walked over to you, knelt down, and rested my hand on your shoulder. I then spoke to you, hoping that my message would meet your ears.

"And when I'm gone, just carry on, don't mourn. Rejoice every time you hear the sound of my voice. Just know that I'm looking down on you smiling. And I didn't feel a thing. So Daddy don't feel no pain. Just smile back..."[1]

~*~*~*~*~*

[1] Eminem "When I'm Gone". It's the chorus to that song. I don't own it.

That song, "When I'm Gone", was the inspiration of this story. Well, please review, thank you.

*always a dreamer*

-Aly-