Willow (Willow Falls Saga) - By Donna Lynn Hope Page 0,3

deep burgundy. Even the paintings were dark and were showcased in ostentatious frames. There was no life in this space, no warmth, no sound - only the smell of death and despair.

I was led into a room where my dad lay in state. The director, a strange yet older man, stood by me. I politely asked to be left alone. He seemed unsure--I was so young after all--but he did as I asked and closed the door behind him.

I stood there and stared, knowing this would be the last time that I would ever see my dad, and there he was, just steps away - the motionless form of Connor Alan Scott - my friend, my dad, and the only family I ever really had.

My voice couldn’t reach him, my tears couldn’t touch him and although he was before me, he wasn’t really there. His empty shell overwhelmed me. It looked like him, but it wasn’t the essence of him. I couldn’t believe the finality of it. It couldn’t be happening. I wanted it to be a nightmare from which I could wake and have everything the way it used to be.

He was so silent and still. His brown eyes were closed forever and his mouth was incapable of soothing my sorrow with the comfort and familiarity of his strong yet temperate voice.

I walked up to him. My heart was pounding from the grief that engulfed me. I wanted my heart to touch his, as if I could shock the life back into him. I swayed and held myself, endlessly repeating to him that I was sorry and that I loved him. The stillness spoke volumes and the silence gave way to despair.

Oh God Dad, you can’t really be gone…

I lowered my head and covered my heart with my hand. It was then, in my sorrow, that I realized how alone I was and how nothing would be the same again.

I silently prayed, took one final look at my dad’s face, turned, and walked to the door. I hesitated for the briefest of moments. I walked out, leaving his shell behind but carrying his memory in my heart.

Chapter 3

I sat in my Jeep waiting for the heat to warm the space around me; I knew I didn’t have much time left. I was leaving everything behind but had to make one final visit to the cozy two bedroom house that had been my life long home. It was where my parents started their life together and were so happy. It was where I had been happy too…with him.

Dark was descending but the stars and the moon masked the twilight. It was unusually cold but the soft breeze guided me to a place where I didn’t want to go. How could the memories be locked away and so yearning to break free?

I pushed a strand of dark hair behind my ear and closed my eyes. I hadn’t even attempted to open the door to my house when I slid to the ground and buried my face in my knees. My throat ached and tears flowed. Silent sobs gave way to ones that seemed to have no end. I lifted my tear-streaked face to the sky and looked at the doorway to the house I might never be able to sleep in again. I cried out in agony and cared not if some distant neighbors heard my cries. How I wanted back in the house that was now dark with no signs of life inside. The only stirring was that of the bushes nearby.

What I wanted was for that dark and depressing house to be warmly lit from within – from the kitchen where my dad cooked oatmeal, pot pies and biscuits, to the living room where we would sit in front of the fireplace and read or play games like scrabble and UNO. Now there was nobody, nothing, not even light.

I cried until I was too weak to cry any longer. I slowly got up and made my way down the steps of the porch to my old, white Jeep wrangler. Once inside I backed out of the gravel driveway and took one last look. In just one day it went from a happy home filled with a family to a dark and empty structure void of life.

My life was changed forever and at that moment I didn’t think I would ever be happy again. The darkness was all around me and I was sad. Death had locked me out from