too much for a 7-year-old

It was a morning not of the usual for when she went out of the room, the air just seemed uncomfortable. She went to the sala and found something more unusual: a box. Rectangular, hard, and white. She looked inside and found her mother. What's a 7-year-old to know? It was a casket.

She wondered why her mom was lying inside that white box. She looked at her face and thought she was sleeping, looked at her body and realized she wasn't. What's a 7-year-old to know? The body wasn't breathing. The life that loved her so much wasn't there anymore.

The loss of life. She ran to her room. What's a 7-year-old to do? She cried. Her sisters weren't there to comfort her.

But her daddy was. What's a father to do? He hugged her.

"What's wrong?"


"Your mommy?"


"Don't worry. I will never leave you. Everything's gonna be alright."

What's a 7-year-old to do? Believe.

What's a father to do? Be there for his children. In every step of the way.

He did that. Enduringly.

After she told her anecdote to her sisters which they only heard after 9 years, there was a long silence. What were daddy's girls to do? They could take the deafening silence. But not the emotions that struck them that night. However, the darkness was there to cover for them and their tears.

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