The reality of the Afterlife
Prologue
I sat numbly at the kitchen table, pushing the dull carrots and soggy cauliflower around my dinner plate, sniffing slightly.
My eyes were obviously still blotchy and red from crying, and my mind kept replaying the incidents from the day; as if I was watching a video on repeat.
I looked up from the table, and across to my uncle, whom still wore the same heartbroken, saddened look much like my own.
“Uncle Mikey…I’m…I’m not-“ I began, before he quickly interrupted,
“Don’t worry about it, just eat what…what you can” he said, his voice shaking slightly through his words. I looked back down at my plate, and began picking a small hole in my meatloaf, well aware that my eyes were filling up with tears, and it was a matter of seconds before I was crying.
I heard my Uncle get up from the table, and walk over to where I was seated. He wrapped his arms tightly around my shoulders, as I buried my head into his warm hoodie. I could make out the sounds of more muffled sobs, that weren’t my own, as I sat half-hunched over, shaking through my tears.
Then I felt another hand rest softly on my back, and I lifted my head and met the face of my Auntie Alicia, who gave me a weak, yet comforting smile.
I sat up, and bit my bottom lip to stop it from shaking, and wiped my eyes on my sleeve. I felt as if I was never going to be happy again, although that sounded ridiculous, right now it felt extremely true. I didn’t know wether to be angry at my father for never telling anyone what was happening to him, and leaving it until he didn’t have long left, or to just accept that he was gone, and that he only kept it from me because he didn’t want me to get upset and worry. He was the kind of person to hide away things just so other people could be happy, and it was a trait that I’d inherited from him.
“I think it’s time we all went to bed”, Alicia said, as she hugged both Mikey and I tightly, and began clearing the table. Nobody had eaten much, but that didn’t surprise me. I usually loved Alicia’s meatloaf, but tonight I felt too exhausted to even thing about eating dinner.
Mikey had made me up a make-do bed in the lounge, and was planning on changing the spare bedroom into my own, as he and Alicia were my godparents, and were now my guardians. Even if it was make-do, I was more than thankful to crawl into it.
“We’ll be right up the hall if you need anything, you should try and get a little rest, eh?” Uncle Mikey said as he tucked me in, kissed me goodnight, and got up to leave.
“Wait!” I suddenly yelped, not wanting him to leave me in the dark, unfamiliar room alone.
My own dad would usually sit by my bedside and sing me a song every night, and I wanted him to burst through the front door, run into the lounge, and tell me that it was all just a bad dream.
I wanted him to hug me, tell me stories about his childhood, and tuck me in at night with a special song. More importantly – I wanted him to be alive again.
Uncle Mikey sat down next to my bed, and started stroking my hair softly, I caught him shaking tears away quickly out of the corner of my eye, which were both beginning to burn, threatening to overflow with tears.
“It’s… it’s okay to be upset and angry, kid” he whispered quietly to me, his bottom lip trembling. I nodded involuntary, feeling my own lip beginning to shake slightly. It felt an almost impossible task, but I managed to hold back my tears. If there was something I’d inherited from my father, it was my willpower.
I leant back, and closed my eyes, blocking out the rest of the world. I must have been lying there for a minute or two, when I felt something warm being draped over top of me. I inhaled its smell, and my nose immediately recognised it as my dad’s cuddly jersey. The one he only wore around me. The same jersey that had held me close and kept me warm after I’d woken up from a bad dream.
I could feel the warm, soft material against my cheek, as it pulled me helplessly into a deep sleep.
My eyes were obviously still blotchy and red from crying, and my mind kept replaying the incidents from the day; as if I was watching a video on repeat.
I looked up from the table, and across to my uncle, whom still wore the same heartbroken, saddened look much like my own.
“Uncle Mikey…I’m…I’m not-“ I began, before he quickly interrupted,
“Don’t worry about it, just eat what…what you can” he said, his voice shaking slightly through his words. I looked back down at my plate, and began picking a small hole in my meatloaf, well aware that my eyes were filling up with tears, and it was a matter of seconds before I was crying.
I heard my Uncle get up from the table, and walk over to where I was seated. He wrapped his arms tightly around my shoulders, as I buried my head into his warm hoodie. I could make out the sounds of more muffled sobs, that weren’t my own, as I sat half-hunched over, shaking through my tears.
Then I felt another hand rest softly on my back, and I lifted my head and met the face of my Auntie Alicia, who gave me a weak, yet comforting smile.
I sat up, and bit my bottom lip to stop it from shaking, and wiped my eyes on my sleeve. I felt as if I was never going to be happy again, although that sounded ridiculous, right now it felt extremely true. I didn’t know wether to be angry at my father for never telling anyone what was happening to him, and leaving it until he didn’t have long left, or to just accept that he was gone, and that he only kept it from me because he didn’t want me to get upset and worry. He was the kind of person to hide away things just so other people could be happy, and it was a trait that I’d inherited from him.
“I think it’s time we all went to bed”, Alicia said, as she hugged both Mikey and I tightly, and began clearing the table. Nobody had eaten much, but that didn’t surprise me. I usually loved Alicia’s meatloaf, but tonight I felt too exhausted to even thing about eating dinner.
Mikey had made me up a make-do bed in the lounge, and was planning on changing the spare bedroom into my own, as he and Alicia were my godparents, and were now my guardians. Even if it was make-do, I was more than thankful to crawl into it.
“We’ll be right up the hall if you need anything, you should try and get a little rest, eh?” Uncle Mikey said as he tucked me in, kissed me goodnight, and got up to leave.
“Wait!” I suddenly yelped, not wanting him to leave me in the dark, unfamiliar room alone.
My own dad would usually sit by my bedside and sing me a song every night, and I wanted him to burst through the front door, run into the lounge, and tell me that it was all just a bad dream.
I wanted him to hug me, tell me stories about his childhood, and tuck me in at night with a special song. More importantly – I wanted him to be alive again.
Uncle Mikey sat down next to my bed, and started stroking my hair softly, I caught him shaking tears away quickly out of the corner of my eye, which were both beginning to burn, threatening to overflow with tears.
“It’s… it’s okay to be upset and angry, kid” he whispered quietly to me, his bottom lip trembling. I nodded involuntary, feeling my own lip beginning to shake slightly. It felt an almost impossible task, but I managed to hold back my tears. If there was something I’d inherited from my father, it was my willpower.
I leant back, and closed my eyes, blocking out the rest of the world. I must have been lying there for a minute or two, when I felt something warm being draped over top of me. I inhaled its smell, and my nose immediately recognised it as my dad’s cuddly jersey. The one he only wore around me. The same jersey that had held me close and kept me warm after I’d woken up from a bad dream.
I could feel the warm, soft material against my cheek, as it pulled me helplessly into a deep sleep.