Papa Soldier 1 (A short story)
My sweating palms held the old suitcase of my departing father. Tears wailed up already as I practised the calmness therapy debating the wisdom of staying strong. I did not want to cry as I tried my best to ignore the drama behind me. All I thought of, was his Death. I always saw things from the positive aspect but at that time, I couldn't help it. It was obvious, nobody ever got back alive from all the stories I've read and movies I've seen. Also, everything just felt weird that day, the singing birds did not even excite me. Why were they even interrupting my thoughts with their bad voices? Even the weather was acting crazy, the rain never fell in the dry season. I just didn't get it. I adjusted my scarf and rested by the door staring at nothing. I glanced behind me. I saw a tear roll down his cheek. I had never seen Papa cry before. I looked away while he brushed the offending cheek with his hand. I was the only one not crying this time around. Mama cried herself to ...