Out of Sorts

Tis today is a day like any other, same bed, same house, same town, and the same feeling of being lost in the place I know like the back of my hand. I slowly rise from my slumber, as my feet hit the cold hardwood floors, I grab my robe, and head downstairs for breakfast. When I come down, I see my mother sitting distraughtly at the table, she has not started fixing breakfast yet, which is odd, but I brush off all my worries and go over to her. As she slowly lifts her head to look at me, I see she has been weeping, which is odd because Father hates to see Mother weeping, but he is not here... which is very peculiar. She grabs my hand, and gestures for me to sit. I slowly sink into the chair, knowing something is wrong.

“Annabeth, I know how much you love your father, and I cannot tell you how much I care for him, but unfortunately he died last night in an accident at the mine." I cannot believe this, I will not believe this, just a few moments ago I was complaining about how everything is always the same but somehow in a matter of seconds my feelings have changed completely. The only thing I desire is for them to go back to normal; to come down and to see mother cooking bacon and father to be joking and talking with her, and to see his big smile when I come down. “th..th..that’s impossible Father has always been careful...He’s always come home...” I reply, weeping. Mother wraps her arms around me, and we sit there holding on to each other, so we do not sink into to sea of sadness that surrounds us.