Third Place - Form Five Writing Competition

                                   
It Was Too Late

It was too late… I lost him. I lost the person I loved the most. The King of my heart, my one and only father. I cry and scream in pain and agony. This was my fault. I should not have been rebellious and ignored him. Now there is nothing I can do to get him back. 

          Death is inevitable, definitely. Losing people I loved, time after time. Why do people start appreciating someone only after his or her death? Why do they not appreciate that person before he or she leaves? Now that the person I loved the most is gone, I wish that it was just a mere nightmare. I wish that he only went on a daytrip and would come back later. But.. no. That could never have happened.

          He is dead. His body is turning blue. His lips are pale. His body has stiffened and bloated. How terrible he looks. But deep down in my heart, I know that he is still alive, well and happy in my memory. As much as I regretted my own actions, I feel very frustrated, as I did not manage to tell him I loved him. He was the first person to hold me at birth and give me a beautiful name. 

          I understand very well that letting go will heal the pain. I was also told that time could also heal the pain of losing someone so dearly. Looking at his pale blue body, I know he has lived a hard life. I truly respect him for being strong and optimistic in his life in order to achieve a better life. He truly braved through hardships.

          It had been hard, trying to live like a normal person. I had bodyguards around me, everywhere I went. I had no friends and was often too lonely. This was what I got for having a dad who was too successful. There were always people who tried to kidnap me and for the sake of getting a handful sum of cash.

          I would often complain to my dad that I was bored and that I needed friends, but he told me that it was dangerous for me. I knew that he had been trying to protect me from the evil forces out there, but sometimes I just could not face it anymore. When I was younger, I had a nanny to take care of me. She was my older cousin. After a while, she too attempted to kidnap me for cash. Since then, my dad and I decided to distance ourselves from our relatives. We learnt not to trust anyone at all. It was selfish, but it was also for safety purposes.

          The only people I could call ‘friends’ were the bodyguards and my private home tutors. For my education, my dad paid a home tutor who would come every day to teach me. I believe the level of education given to me was much more advanced than the people of my age. I often rant to my bodyguards on how bored I was with my life, but they would always ignore me.

          I looked up to my father a lot as he had taught me how to persevere through hardships. He was my only family member, friend, and hope. He was also my role model in life. Despite his busy schedule, he would spend his time with me, bonding by some father-daughter activity. My mom passed away right after giving birth to me, so I had never met her before.

          Looking at my father’s static and motionless body, I can feel some part of me dying. I look at the bodyguards around me, who are also mourning. I have the urge to blame everything on them for not being able to protect my father. But before letting my pain and anger off, I come to my senses that they are also human too. 

          Humans aren’t perfect. Knowing everything about the business my dad was doing, I clearly know I will be the heir of his properties and possessions. With the terrible feeling in my heart, I am determined to exact my revenge on my father’s killer. A soul for a soul.

By,

Yasmin Susani (5A)