Last year on this date was the day I could never forget. In every detail, I remember everything. I've been trying to call the whole morning because I have this unusual feeling of worry which i refuse to acknowledge to be something bad. Before that, I was laughing very hard and made a chicken meal for me and my nephew. Then a call drove me mad. I shouted all over that the neighbors can hear me, smacking my head against the wall, slapping my face and even attempting to drown myself in the sink so I could wake up from this nightmare. It was true. There were other calls that verified of my Dad's death. No one was there to calm me down or rub my arms since I sent my nephew to sleep. After I calmed, I cleaned the house to await for my parents' arrival, the dead and the surviving. At 10 pm, an ambulance came and I rushed my feet outside. My mother was coming, red and sorrow was painted on her face. Then I saw his lifeless cold body, and a distinguish mark on his face. A smirk. Maybe he said; "I hate hospitals."
