I was ten years old that night. I was put into bed and I waited for the normal routine of my father coming home and kissing me goodnight . Silent in bed, I listened carefully for my dad's firm footsteps to come down the hallway at any moment. Tick tock went the clock. The hallway light didn't turn on. For what seemed like an eternity, my father didn't come. Then, finally, the light clicked on and I heard the footsteps coming. But, this time, I heard something else; there was heavy breathing colliding with the sound of footsteps. Certainly annoyed by that time, I had prepared to reprimand my father when he came in. However, the footsteps abruptly stopped and I heard a thump that shook the dark room. I heard loud commotion outside and so many murmuring voices. Innocent and childish as I was, I was furious. WHY DIDN'T HE COME? I lifted the bed sheets and stormed out of my expansive room, ramming the door open, about to shout, "DAD WHY WON'T YOU COME?!" But, I was too stunned by the sight to say anything. For there, among the string of chaotic servants, laid my dad, gasping desperately, like it was the last breath he could ever take.

I asked what was going on but the servants were moving so quickly they didn't have time to answer me. Frustrated, I was about to throw a tantrum when I heard a faint gasp in the midst of all the chaos. My father, the one that had a soothing low voice, could barely talk at all. He motioned for me to come closer, and for once, I obeyed. Eyes closed, mouth barely open, he whispered, "Lena, sweetie, I'm sorry I can't be with you much longer. Dear, please, listen, whatever you do, try your hardest and you will be rewarded. Just do your best. Just...do...your..." my father trailed off. I stared in shock, unable to move, as I saw my father's forever smiling face freeze in place. He died right there, right then, because he had worked too hard for his body to handle. Too hard...just for me.

And at that moment, I finally woke up from my fantasy.