The Day I Lost Everything.

I don't remember how I learned that my father died. I just remember knowing and having the feeling that my world was about to end. He was a buffer between me and the abuse my great grandmother would dish out to me. I didnt know much about his lifestyle or how he died at the time. All I knew is that something serious was happening and that I was involved.

On the day of the funeral,  I remember receiving alot of attention. My fathers brothers, my uncles telling me that they would be a father to me. They told me that they would take care of me. I remember my aunt, my fathers younger sister screaming and crying. She wanted her brother. That's all she wanted. Meanwhile, my second grade teacher was taking the miniature doves and stuffing them in her purse. I remember my fathers girlfriend wanting to sit with me in the limo. I didn't know her all that well. She took my head and laid it in her lap. She stroked my hair. I let her.

I remember the white casket and his pewter grey suit. I remember the doves and the flowers. I remember looking at his face and seeing my own features reflecting back. I remember thinking that I should cry, but I cant. I chose to look sad instead. That is the only emotion I could show. I dont remember my mother. I try to conjure up her face on that day, but I cant. I know she was there.

I remember wearing a frilly white dress. We all wore white. The limos were white. The flowers were white.

The reception was held at my grandmothers house, my fathers mother.The adults were becoming overbearing and I decided to hang out with my cousins. I needed the comfort of children. Later, I remember wanting to go home. I lived a few blocks away and I asked my cousins to walk me around the block. I remember feeling happy to be with my cousins as we skipped down the road. I almost forgot that we just buried my father.

As we neared my home, I knew something was wrong. There were fire trucks lined down my block. I saw black smoke rising to the sky. I paused. I couldn't walk any further. I just had a feeling. My cousins urged me on, they were eager to know what was happening.

As I neared my house, I realized that the house on fire was mine. The entire upstairs was engulfed in black smoke. The front yard was littered with charred furniture and burned clothing. My great-grandmother was in the ambulance with a mask on her face, looking pale and frightened. My grandmother and great uncle both yelling at my mother. My cousin and my brother looking lost and confused.

I stood on the sidewalk and cried. I finally cried because it hit me. In one day. I lost everything.

I was 8 years old.