Happy New Year

It was the 31st of December, and I was at home sitting in front of the TV. Five minutes to go and then it would be 2011.
I sat, staring blankly at the TV screen.
‘Why couldn’t you be here?’ I whispered.
My siblings were out with their significant others, enjoying themselves. My mum was working the late shift so she was out too. I was alone.
Cradling your photo in my arms, I began to rock backwards and forwards. Memories came flooding back. I remembered. Every year on this exact day, we would all be huddled together around the living room TV, waiting with anticipation for the fireworks. For midnight. For a new day. For a new year… For a new start.
But all that’s gone now. You were gone and I was alone. Alone with these painful memories which were etched into what seemed like my very skull.
Three minutes to midnight.
The children on TV looked so excited. They were jumping and screaming with anticipation. I could feel the corners of my eyes prickling. I smiled with memories filling my thoughts once more. I looked back down at the photos. I used to be like that.
Water left my eyes and dripped onto the photo frame. I missed you. I wanted you. I needed you.
One minute to midnight.
I wiped the photo frame clear of my tears. I grabbed some tissues and wiped my eyes and blew my nose.
Thirty seconds to go.
I placed the photo frame on the bean bag next to me, facing the TV screen.
‘Look, Dad, look,’ I whispered, ‘it’s about to start!’
Three… Two… One…
The fireworks exploded, sending dashes of colours across the sky.
‘Dad! Dad! Look! Isn’t it pretty Dad?’ I said to the photo, pointing to the screen.
And as if by magic, I heard it. I heard him.
‘Yes my dear, it is, and so are you.’
‘Dad?’
‘Happy New Year darling.’
And then, complete silence. The fireworks ended but I didn’t care. I was crying, but out of pure joy. I cried for a long time, even until my mum came home from work at one because I knew for a fact that this New Year, I wasn’t alone. I was with my Dad.

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