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The moment that my mom had passed away.. Life was suddenly different, her death had an excruciating take on me. I'd walk into the kitchen and instead of seeing her making dinner or baking small pastries, I found it empty, almost no sign or trace she was there.

     Even though it's only been about three weeks since her passing, my heart ached from a pain that could have came from a lifetime. She had died from heart cancer, and I was with her till her very last breathe. All she ever wanted was for me to be strong and make it through okay, but here I am, bawling my eyes out.

     Losing my mom was like losing a part of me, I would never see her again. She wouldn't be able to see me grow up, we wouldn't be able to play Ultimate Mecha Strike 3, she wouldn't be at my graduation, nor my wedding.. She wouldn't even be able to see her own future grandchildren.

     These few weeks had been hell, my memories kept coming back to me, like the first time me and her baked a cake, the times she would hold me after heartbreaks, all the shopping trips we had which ended with us not deciding on anything, and when she gave me her most prized possession, a pair of earrings. They were all happy memories. But as happy as they were, why did they make me cry?

I turned on my bed and tugged my knees up to my chin, hugging them as tight as I possibly could. My lips beginning to quiver once again and I felt my eyes fill up with water again. I grabbed my pale white covers and wiped my eyes with them, feeling my face get sticky with the tears that had came over my now red cheeks.

     Without even realizing it, I let out a loud stressed sob. I would never be able to stop the tears, how could a child just get over her own mothers death, especially after three weeks.

I knew everyone was worried about me, I hadn't left my house, barely ate a thing, I knew people who I have never even talked to would come over and try to console me. A couple of girls at my school in Florida named Jocelyn and Lisette, who mind me, were nothing but strangers in my eyes, came knocking on my door last week acting like they knew what it meant to lose my mom. Don't get me wrong, it was sweet but frustrating since before this moment, they never cared about me or my mom.

It seemed like now many people seemed to not care anymore, at first everyone cared a lot and even neighbors we didn't talk to came by to express their 'deepest condolences' and how my mom was the nicest person they met and such.

The only moment I actually left the house was when Alya dragged me out of it, literally dragged. It seemed like Alya was the only person who really cared about my wellbeing truly now. Her and her family would always come and cook me some food or tried to talk and make me laugh. I was grateful.

     Still I didn't forgot that now I was technically an orphan with no mother and it wasn't like I even knew who my dad was, my mom was a hard working single mother who left my dad before I was ever even born. She never brought him up, and I never asked.

     The subject about my dad had never even occurred to me until my grandmother came to talk to me. She asked me about where I was going to stay now. After my grandma asked where, I told her that Alya and her family had offered to take me in for the remaining years of high school.

     My grandma nodded her head in agreement but soon followed up with. "Well don't you want to meet your father?" She caught me completely off guard with the question and I didn't exactly know how to respond to her. After never having the thought about my dad for most of my life, it wasn't exactly normal to hear the topic about my dad all of a sudden, especially about going to meet him. I looked over questioningly at her to make sure I heard what she had told me right, but she had her head down, staring at her lap.

     "Your mothers very last wish to me.. was to take you to Paris to stay with Tom for the summer, maybe longer if you liked it over there." My grandmother stressed in a shaky voice as she held my hands together giving me a sole look of comfort.

     Now that I think back at it, I don't even think my own grandmother had met my dad. By the way she had talked about him, which was very vague, it seemed like he was a stranger who my mom had just told her about last minute. Which he probably was.

     My biggest concern about it all was why my mothers last dying wish was for me to go all the way to Europe and bond with my dad, I had 15 years I could have gone and done it, why now? Now that she's passed. What was she trying to tell me?

     The bittersweet thought lingered on in my mind. I mean, I knew that my mother was out of her pain, in a better and more peaceful state, and it was wrong for me to have any bitter thoughts, but why did she leave so soon, without giving me any explanation?

     My mom was of course a little bit creative with stuff like this and she had journals with almost ever aspect of her life but after she died I read most of them the same night and none of them had ever mentioned a word about my father and were all made after I was born.

     We had fifteen years my mom could have mentioned him and she choose not to. I regretted not ever asking her, maybe if I had then she would have shown a little insight. She shouldn't just leave me to go stay with a stranger I had never met whose name I just learnt. Thats not what was supposed to go down.

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