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My Old Man
A salt-swirled tear gently rolled down my cheek. As I sat in the Waiting Room, I felt such guilt, but the knowledge that nothing was my fault just smothered my sorrow even more. I put my wet palms upon my face, and prayed to the heavens. The hands of the clock that hung upon the wall seemed to tick ever so slowly, trapping me in this heart-piercing situation. I looked around at the others that sat in the same room as me. Some had warm smiles glued upon their faces. Some had the sense of despair written in their expression. But I was certain my sorrow tore a wound in my heart so deep, no-one could heal my inside.
The hours gently ticked by, as I counted numerous amounts of people entering and leaving the hospital. I tried ever so hard to hold back my emotions, but the barriers I desperately tried to hold on through were torn to shreds by a stream of tears. I looked down at the floor, so helpless, wallowing in a world of sorrow. Dreadful thoughts slowly wafted within me, jolting my mind every now and again, reminding me why I was here. I was swallowed within a land of depression and sadness from the heart. I wondered how I was going to cope from this day onward.
After what felt like an eternity, the nurse finally walked in to break the news to me. I looked up at her; my face blotched with tear scares. I looked at her, praying the news was what I wanted.
‘Your father has recovered from his attack.’ She softly spoke, ‘but I’m afraid to tell you that your father will be with us for a long time to come.’
The news lifted a small weight off my wounded body, but it was not the news I had hoped for. I stood up, and bearing a fake smile I followed the nurse toward the ward. As I walked through the endless corridor, I could see people around me, happily smiling and laughing, knowing that it would only be a matter of hours before they were safe at home, away from horrific thoughts of the hospital. I could feel myself become weaker, step by step. I couldn’t even picture my father’s proud face inside my head. The quiet atmosphere that drifted around me seemed to lift me up, carrying me toward my destination.
The nurse then came to a broad set of double doors, and after tapping in a code into the dial upon the wall, the doors slowly opened. The nurse turned to look at me, and through her fake expression I could see a look of worry and sorrow on her face. I knew the situation I was about to face would change the face of my life until my dying day. I took a deep breath, and walked on through to the ward.
The nurse led me to a separate room, and upon opening the door she let me inside and closed the door behind, telling me she would be back in ten minutes. As that door closed, the silence that followed almost made me drop to me knees in despair. I didn’t want to look at my father, lying in the ward bed. After taking a few deep breathes, I turned to face my father. My heart sank to my stomach, as I set eyes upon him. He lay there, so pale, so motionless. I put my hands upon his, and got down onto my knees, like a slave bowing down to his ruler. I put my head onto the cold, hard bar support of the bed, and tears streamed down my cheeks like a white-water river.
I had never seen my father in such a state. I could barely force myself to look at his candle-white face. A deadly silence lingered within the room, with only the beeps of the life-support machine breaking up the silence into pieces, and pieces. I held his hand tightly, as tears streamed from my face onto the white quilt that lay upon him. Never before had I felt such anger, such despair. The gaping hole in my soul burned even larger, forcing me to let my emotions to blaze out of me like fireworks. I let out a devastating sigh, as I looked at his scarred face. The memories flooded back…
I remember how we would walk through the burning green fields of the mountains, happily laughing and playing together. Under the golden rays of the mid-day sun we would sit upon the grass, staring up at the clouds in the ocean-blue sky, telling stories and exchanging experiences. The warm winds of the mountain air would gently breeze past, as our laughter would echo through the vallies and beyond. My heart was full of happiness, as I looked into his face. His eyes glistened like pearls, while his fawn hair waved in the cool breeze.
I remember how he would take me out into the countryside on his motorbike. We would tear down the dust-beaten tracks of the backcountry, attempting to reach eye-melting speeds. I remember the smell of the fish and chips we used to buy every Friday night that soothed my senses so brilliantly. We would walk through the silent nights of the village, happily scoffing our mouths with grease-dripping chips.
I remember how he would take me to play football down the vast fields every Sunday morning. He would urge me on, telling me I was the greatest player in the world as I fired the ball ferociously at the stone-wall goals. I remember how he cooked such delicious Sunday roasts, with such a gorgeous smell wafting from the steaming plate. I would sink my teeth into the succulent roast chicken every Sunday and the taste would satisfy me every time.
But now, with the heavens watching down upon us, all that was gone. I looked hard at the deep lines on his face. He looked so exhausted, torn apart by the demons of alcohol and smoke. I always persuaded him to cut down, but he never did. I wanted to turn back time, back to the good times, back to the times when I didn’t have a care in the world, enjoying every moment of his company. But now, the cruel ways of life and depth were reaching out, taking him away from me, leaving me to survive in this cold, cruel world.
One last salt-swirled tear gently rolled down my cheek, as I stood up, proud of my fantastic father, who had given me everything I could ever want.
‘Good luck dad,’ I whispered softly, ‘We’ll meet again, someday soon’…
A salt-swirled tear gently rolled down my cheek. As I sat in the Waiting Room, I felt such guilt, but the knowledge that nothing was my fault just smothered my sorrow even more. I put my wet palms upon my face, and prayed to the heavens. The hands of the clock that hung upon the wall seemed to tick ever so slowly, trapping me in this heart-piercing situation. I looked around at the others that sat in the same room as me. Some had warm smiles glued upon their faces. Some had the sense of despair written in their expression. But I was certain my sorrow tore a wound in my heart so deep, no-one could heal my inside.
The hours gently ticked by, as I counted numerous amounts of people entering and leaving the hospital. I tried ever so hard to hold back my emotions, but the barriers I desperately tried to hold on through were torn to shreds by a stream of tears. I looked down at the floor, so helpless, wallowing in a world of sorrow. Dreadful thoughts slowly wafted within me, jolting my mind every now and again, reminding me why I was here. I was swallowed within a land of depression and sadness from the heart. I wondered how I was going to cope from this day onward.
After what felt like an eternity, the nurse finally walked in to break the news to me. I looked up at her; my face blotched with tear scares. I looked at her, praying the news was what I wanted.
‘Your father has recovered from his attack.’ She softly spoke, ‘but I’m afraid to tell you that your father will be with us for a long time to come.’
The news lifted a small weight off my wounded body, but it was not the news I had hoped for. I stood up, and bearing a fake smile I followed the nurse toward the ward. As I walked through the endless corridor, I could see people around me, happily smiling and laughing, knowing that it would only be a matter of hours before they were safe at home, away from horrific thoughts of the hospital. I could feel myself become weaker, step by step. I couldn’t even picture my father’s proud face inside my head. The quiet atmosphere that drifted around me seemed to lift me up, carrying me toward my destination.
The nurse then came to a broad set of double doors, and after tapping in a code into the dial upon the wall, the doors slowly opened. The nurse turned to look at me, and through her fake expression I could see a look of worry and sorrow on her face. I knew the situation I was about to face would change the face of my life until my dying day. I took a deep breath, and walked on through to the ward.
The nurse led me to a separate room, and upon opening the door she let me inside and closed the door behind, telling me she would be back in ten minutes. As that door closed, the silence that followed almost made me drop to me knees in despair. I didn’t want to look at my father, lying in the ward bed. After taking a few deep breathes, I turned to face my father. My heart sank to my stomach, as I set eyes upon him. He lay there, so pale, so motionless. I put my hands upon his, and got down onto my knees, like a slave bowing down to his ruler. I put my head onto the cold, hard bar support of the bed, and tears streamed down my cheeks like a white-water river.
I had never seen my father in such a state. I could barely force myself to look at his candle-white face. A deadly silence lingered within the room, with only the beeps of the life-support machine breaking up the silence into pieces, and pieces. I held his hand tightly, as tears streamed from my face onto the white quilt that lay upon him. Never before had I felt such anger, such despair. The gaping hole in my soul burned even larger, forcing me to let my emotions to blaze out of me like fireworks. I let out a devastating sigh, as I looked at his scarred face. The memories flooded back…
I remember how we would walk through the burning green fields of the mountains, happily laughing and playing together. Under the golden rays of the mid-day sun we would sit upon the grass, staring up at the clouds in the ocean-blue sky, telling stories and exchanging experiences. The warm winds of the mountain air would gently breeze past, as our laughter would echo through the vallies and beyond. My heart was full of happiness, as I looked into his face. His eyes glistened like pearls, while his fawn hair waved in the cool breeze.
I remember how he would take me out into the countryside on his motorbike. We would tear down the dust-beaten tracks of the backcountry, attempting to reach eye-melting speeds. I remember the smell of the fish and chips we used to buy every Friday night that soothed my senses so brilliantly. We would walk through the silent nights of the village, happily scoffing our mouths with grease-dripping chips.
I remember how he would take me to play football down the vast fields every Sunday morning. He would urge me on, telling me I was the greatest player in the world as I fired the ball ferociously at the stone-wall goals. I remember how he cooked such delicious Sunday roasts, with such a gorgeous smell wafting from the steaming plate. I would sink my teeth into the succulent roast chicken every Sunday and the taste would satisfy me every time.
But now, with the heavens watching down upon us, all that was gone. I looked hard at the deep lines on his face. He looked so exhausted, torn apart by the demons of alcohol and smoke. I always persuaded him to cut down, but he never did. I wanted to turn back time, back to the good times, back to the times when I didn’t have a care in the world, enjoying every moment of his company. But now, the cruel ways of life and depth were reaching out, taking him away from me, leaving me to survive in this cold, cruel world.
One last salt-swirled tear gently rolled down my cheek, as I stood up, proud of my fantastic father, who had given me everything I could ever want.
‘Good luck dad,’ I whispered softly, ‘We’ll meet again, someday soon’…
For cheating. He'll be back soon, though, the little smooth talker.
Why did he get banned?
Well he can't if he's been banned. Derr.
That was Excellent good cliffhanger. Please can you write another one?
Enjoyed that.
I actually persuaded myself to read it and I really enjoyed it. Really full of emotion, nice imagery, good job
My Old Man
A salt-swirled tear gently rolled down my cheek. As I sat in the Waiting Room, I felt such guilt, but the knowledge that nothing was my fault just smothered my sorrow even more. I put my wet palms upon my face, and prayed to the heavens. The hands of the clock that hung upon the wall seemed to tick ever so slowly, trapping me in this heart-piercing situation. I looked around at the others that sat in the same room as me. Some had warm smiles glued upon their faces. Some had the sense of despair written in their expression. But I was certain my sorrow tore a wound in my heart so deep, no-one could heal my inside.
The hours gently ticked by, as I counted numerous amounts of people entering and leaving the hospital. I tried ever so hard to hold back my emotions, but the barriers I desperately tried to hold on through were torn to shreds by a stream of tears. I looked down at the floor, so helpless, wallowing in a world of sorrow. Dreadful thoughts slowly wafted within me, jolting my mind every now and again, reminding me why I was here. I was swallowed within a land of depression and sadness from the heart. I wondered how I was going to cope from this day onward.
After what felt like an eternity, the nurse finally walked in to break the news to me. I looked up at her; my face blotched with tear scares. I looked at her, praying the news was what I wanted.
‘Your father has recovered from his attack.’ She softly spoke, ‘but I’m afraid to tell you that your father will be with us for a long time to come.’
The news lifted a small weight off my wounded body, but it was not the news I had hoped for. I stood up, and bearing a fake smile I followed the nurse toward the ward. As I walked through the endless corridor, I could see people around me, happily smiling and laughing, knowing that it would only be a matter of hours before they were safe at home, away from horrific thoughts of the hospital. I could feel myself become weaker, step by step. I couldn’t even picture my father’s proud face inside my head. The quiet atmosphere that drifted around me seemed to lift me up, carrying me toward my destination.
The nurse then came to a broad set of double doors, and after tapping in a code into the dial upon the wall, the doors slowly opened. The nurse turned to look at me, and through her fake expression I could see a look of worry and sorrow on her face. I knew the situation I was about to face would change the face of my life until my dying day. I took a deep breath, and walked on through to the ward.
The nurse led me to a separate room, and upon opening the door she let me inside and closed the door behind, telling me she would be back in ten minutes. As that door closed, the silence that followed almost made me drop to me knees in despair. I didn’t want to look at my father, lying in the ward bed. After taking a few deep breathes, I turned to face my father. My heart sank to my stomach, as I set eyes upon him. He lay there, so pale, so motionless. I put my hands upon his, and got down onto my knees, like a slave bowing down to his ruler. I put my head onto the cold, hard bar support of the bed, and tears streamed down my cheeks like a white-water river.
I had never seen my father in such a state. I could barely force myself to look at his candle-white face. A deadly silence lingered within the room, with only the beeps of the life-support machine breaking up the silence into pieces, and pieces. I held his hand tightly, as tears streamed from my face onto the white quilt that lay upon him. Never before had I felt such anger, such despair. The gaping hole in my soul burned even larger, forcing me to let my emotions to blaze out of me like fireworks. I let out a devastating sigh, as I looked at his scarred face. The memories flooded back…
I remember how we would walk through the burning green fields of the mountains, happily laughing and playing together. Under the golden rays of the mid-day sun we would sit upon the grass, staring up at the clouds in the ocean-blue sky, telling stories and exchanging experiences. The warm winds of the mountain air would gently breeze past, as our laughter would echo through the vallies and beyond. My heart was full of happiness, as I looked into his face. His eyes glistened like pearls, while his fawn hair waved in the cool breeze.
I remember how he would take me out into the countryside on his motorbike. We would tear down the dust-beaten tracks of the backcountry, attempting to reach eye-melting speeds. I remember the smell of the fish and chips we used to buy every Friday night that soothed my senses so brilliantly. We would walk through the silent nights of the village, happily scoffing our mouths with grease-dripping chips.
I remember how he would take me to play football down the vast fields every Sunday morning. He would urge me on, telling me I was the greatest player in the world as I fired the ball ferociously at the stone-wall goals. I remember how he cooked such delicious Sunday roasts, with such a gorgeous smell wafting from the steaming plate. I would sink my teeth into the succulent roast chicken every Sunday and the taste would satisfy me every time.
But now, with the heavens watching down upon us, all that was gone. I looked hard at the deep lines on his face. He looked so exhausted, torn apart by the demons of alcohol and smoke. I always persuaded him to cut down, but he never did. I wanted to turn back time, back to the good times, back to the times when I didn’t have a care in the world, enjoying every moment of his company. But now, the cruel ways of life and depth were reaching out, taking him away from me, leaving me to survive in this cold, cruel world.
One last salt-swirled tear gently rolled down my cheek, as I stood up, proud of my fantastic father, who had given me everything I could ever want.
‘Good luck dad,’ I whispered softly, ‘We’ll meet again, someday soon’…
A salt-swirled tear gently rolled down my cheek. As I sat in the Waiting Room, I felt such guilt, but the knowledge that nothing was my fault just smothered my sorrow even more. I put my wet palms upon my face, and prayed to the heavens. The hands of the clock that hung upon the wall seemed to tick ever so slowly, trapping me in this heart-piercing situation. I looked around at the others that sat in the same room as me. Some had warm smiles glued upon their faces. Some had the sense of despair written in their expression. But I was certain my sorrow tore a wound in my heart so deep, no-one could heal my inside.
The hours gently ticked by, as I counted numerous amounts of people entering and leaving the hospital. I tried ever so hard to hold back my emotions, but the barriers I desperately tried to hold on through were torn to shreds by a stream of tears. I looked down at the floor, so helpless, wallowing in a world of sorrow. Dreadful thoughts slowly wafted within me, jolting my mind every now and again, reminding me why I was here. I was swallowed within a land of depression and sadness from the heart. I wondered how I was going to cope from this day onward.
After what felt like an eternity, the nurse finally walked in to break the news to me. I looked up at her; my face blotched with tear scares. I looked at her, praying the news was what I wanted.
‘Your father has recovered from his attack.’ She softly spoke, ‘but I’m afraid to tell you that your father will be with us for a long time to come.’
The news lifted a small weight off my wounded body, but it was not the news I had hoped for. I stood up, and bearing a fake smile I followed the nurse toward the ward. As I walked through the endless corridor, I could see people around me, happily smiling and laughing, knowing that it would only be a matter of hours before they were safe at home, away from horrific thoughts of the hospital. I could feel myself become weaker, step by step. I couldn’t even picture my father’s proud face inside my head. The quiet atmosphere that drifted around me seemed to lift me up, carrying me toward my destination.
The nurse then came to a broad set of double doors, and after tapping in a code into the dial upon the wall, the doors slowly opened. The nurse turned to look at me, and through her fake expression I could see a look of worry and sorrow on her face. I knew the situation I was about to face would change the face of my life until my dying day. I took a deep breath, and walked on through to the ward.
The nurse led me to a separate room, and upon opening the door she let me inside and closed the door behind, telling me she would be back in ten minutes. As that door closed, the silence that followed almost made me drop to me knees in despair. I didn’t want to look at my father, lying in the ward bed. After taking a few deep breathes, I turned to face my father. My heart sank to my stomach, as I set eyes upon him. He lay there, so pale, so motionless. I put my hands upon his, and got down onto my knees, like a slave bowing down to his ruler. I put my head onto the cold, hard bar support of the bed, and tears streamed down my cheeks like a white-water river.
I had never seen my father in such a state. I could barely force myself to look at his candle-white face. A deadly silence lingered within the room, with only the beeps of the life-support machine breaking up the silence into pieces, and pieces. I held his hand tightly, as tears streamed from my face onto the white quilt that lay upon him. Never before had I felt such anger, such despair. The gaping hole in my soul burned even larger, forcing me to let my emotions to blaze out of me like fireworks. I let out a devastating sigh, as I looked at his scarred face. The memories flooded back…
I remember how we would walk through the burning green fields of the mountains, happily laughing and playing together. Under the golden rays of the mid-day sun we would sit upon the grass, staring up at the clouds in the ocean-blue sky, telling stories and exchanging experiences. The warm winds of the mountain air would gently breeze past, as our laughter would echo through the vallies and beyond. My heart was full of happiness, as I looked into his face. His eyes glistened like pearls, while his fawn hair waved in the cool breeze.
I remember how he would take me out into the countryside on his motorbike. We would tear down the dust-beaten tracks of the backcountry, attempting to reach eye-melting speeds. I remember the smell of the fish and chips we used to buy every Friday night that soothed my senses so brilliantly. We would walk through the silent nights of the village, happily scoffing our mouths with grease-dripping chips.
I remember how he would take me to play football down the vast fields every Sunday morning. He would urge me on, telling me I was the greatest player in the world as I fired the ball ferociously at the stone-wall goals. I remember how he cooked such delicious Sunday roasts, with such a gorgeous smell wafting from the steaming plate. I would sink my teeth into the succulent roast chicken every Sunday and the taste would satisfy me every time.
But now, with the heavens watching down upon us, all that was gone. I looked hard at the deep lines on his face. He looked so exhausted, torn apart by the demons of alcohol and smoke. I always persuaded him to cut down, but he never did. I wanted to turn back time, back to the good times, back to the times when I didn’t have a care in the world, enjoying every moment of his company. But now, the cruel ways of life and depth were reaching out, taking him away from me, leaving me to survive in this cold, cruel world.
One last salt-swirled tear gently rolled down my cheek, as I stood up, proud of my fantastic father, who had given me everything I could ever want.
‘Good luck dad,’ I whispered softly, ‘We’ll meet again, someday soon’…