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"DADDY!!!" I screamed as I watched my dad fly at least 20 feet into the air and come down hard on the black pavement of our street.
The black van that hit him stopped short a little ways down the block, realizing that he hit someone. He came running over to my dad on his phone, probably calling 911 as I sprinted to my dads side.
I slid on my knees to my dads side and didn't even care that my jeans ripped, "DADDY! Daddy, open your eyes! You can't die, dad please!" I started crying.
My dads green eyes fluttered open slightly, "Mickey, I love you baby, you need to stay strong for everyone. I love you."
"Dad, I love you too, but you can't leave me, I need you." I said crying into his chest and holding his hand.
"I'll always be here baby, I'll always be here." And his eyes fluttered shut.
Just then the ambulance pulled up and pried my dad away from me, the rest was all a blur or people running around and screaming, my mom coming out onto the porch, my brother running over to me still kneeling in the street and crying as he squeezed me tight.
My dad was pronounced dead at the sight, the man that hit him was charged with murder and me and Liam, my brother were left with giant, gaping holes in our hearts. My mom didn't even cry that much.
That was last week, Friday, November 2nd, to be exact. since then I haven't gone to school, I have barely eaten, my short, wavy blonde hair with natural dark brown to black highlights has been a mess, my bright green eyes have looked dull, and Taylor Swift has been playing on my iPod every second. I haven't left my room and my phone and computer have been off, I haven't talked to anyone.
I've been depressed, and have taken the razor to my wrist a few times.
I loved my dad, I miss him so much. I don't know how to live without him. He was the one I was close to, him and my brother Liam, I've never been close to my mom, and now he's gone.
I wake up every morning wishing it was just a dream, then reality kicks in and I start bawling again.
2 weeks after my dad died of not going to school, I finally decided to get up and leave the house. We live in Virginia, right on the beach so I decided to go to walk down the beach, that's what me and my dad used to do.
I put on a pair of jean shorts, a white tank top, and my young heart off-the-shoulder shirt. I came downstairs, grabbed my white flip flops and went out the back door.
It was about noon on Saturday so I expected to see people on the beach. I walked right up to where the water meets the sand and started walking towards town with my flip flops in my hand. I was staring out at the ocean when I heard, "MIKAYLA!" over the rawr of the ocean.
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