So it was a horrible september day that I got the worst call. I was just enjoying myself days earlier happy because I was headed on vacation to Jamaica. My smile was huge and I felt so proud knowing that I'm going places in life. Suddenly my happy smile changed when I got the call saying that your father has been shot. At first I thought that I was dreamsing, I felt that I was in a nightmare, and all I wanted was to be out of it. It took me a while to just pull myself together; so I had to just keep my composure. Once I went to the hospital I saw that it was real. That was when reality hit me, and my heart fell to the floor. Seeing all the machines that my father was hooked up to made my heart fall. Just days before me and him were laughing and running jokes, and also talking about life. Now he was unable to speak because he was heavily sedated, and I felt helpless. I was hurt knowing that I couldn't do anything about it. I thought that I was strong, but I kept breaking down. My father the man that raised me, and the man that was my backbone was now fighting for his life. The first thing that I wanted to do was to cry but I was praying that he satyed alive. He was on life support for six days. Then he went into cardiac arrest twice. I would spend nights and days at the hospital. I really wanted him to recover, but one saturday when I was in the room by his side. I just saw the machines going crazy and I knew that this wasn't normal, my gut just told me that something was wrong. Now I see a whole bunch of doctors rushing into the room, and they then asked me to step out. So I now step out; five minutes later the doctor comes up to me,a nd my family while we were in the hallway and said the worst words ever. He said "He died". The tears kept rolling and I was just lost my heart felt like it couldn't recover. The doctor then says you can go in the room and spend the last moments with him. So I then go in the room, and looked at his lifeless body. It was the hardest things ever for me to do. This all happened five years ago, and now it's still hard for me. Every time September comes around I hate it. I just want Spetember to be over I always hate October because it was October 6 that my father died. Writing this was hard for me, but I'm glad that I did becausde it allowed me to share my story with fellow people that knows the pain of grief. Every day I try to find something to change my thinking and get me back on the right track but it's very hard. I feel like I can't function. When my father died a little piece of me died also. I wish he was never shot because I knew he would still be here with me. In a strange way I would've felt bette rif he died from cancer because at least then I would've known that he died naturally and it probably couldn't have been avoided. I'm sad writing this righ now, but at least this feels like a good form of therapy for me. I'm so traumatized that I see a phsycologist once a week and we talk about this, and other things that are on my mind. Since seeing my Phsycologist I do feel better. She has recommended plenty of things to help me, and they really do. Lately she recommend that I read this book called "How to overcome fear, and start living fearless" and she said read and analyze the chapter called "Fear of Death". I must say that this chapter really did cleanse me and help me out mentally, so I'm glad that she did so because this is still hard and I'll never eb teh same again, until my day comes and I'm dead. Thank you all for reading this, and I'm thankful that you took time out of your day to read my pain... I really appreciate it, and if you're grieving like me and always hurt liek me also. I higly recommend that you read that same book that my phsycologist recommended to me... Thank you for your time I appreciate it...