Heartache

• Tilly Bessant, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2011

As the haunting notes of ‘The Last Stand’ die out...
The minute silence at the War Memorial is the same every year. I stand next to mum, gripping her hand as if my life depends on it; I can feel the warmth of my tears rolling slowly down my wind blown cheeks. I glance up at the hundreds of flowers laying still and lifeless under the many names of the brave soldiers that went to fight for our country. Amongst them lay the twelve red roses that I have placed for my father, reminding me of the ones he gave me for my twelfth birthday (the year before he went to war). My father was a brave man, he wasn’t afraid of death; all he wanted was freedom for our country.
I feel the tug of mum’s hand “It’s time to go,” she whispers.
The harsh slashing sound of the storm is outside my home. The house is creaking and swaying in the wind, the fire is dancing around the room, casting shadows up the walls and on my face, I make pictures with them, I pretend they are brave warriors with spears and arrows; nothing can stop them from being free.
I think of my father and know that his spirit is free, but I miss him!! I miss the way he used to pick me up in his soft hands and throw me up above his head, the sound of his laughter and the way he used to make mums eyes sparkle. I drift slowly to sleep with these memories in my mind.
The bees are buzzing, the birds are singing and the delicate perfumes of the lavender bushes nearby are wafting around me. The pollen tickles my nose as it floats through the air. The grass is soft and cool under my feet, and a slight breeze is making me drowsy. Slowly, I fall into a daydream...
My father is there, smiling his wide toothy grin. The sunset casts a golden glow around his tall figure, mums laughter fills the picture, and dad runs towards her, arms outstretched grasping her for the first time in years. They beckon me to join them on the grassy hill; we sit telling stories of our past. Love and tears fill the air; the hole that has been aching in my heart is filled again for the first time in many, many months...
Upon awakening from my slumber the heaviness in my heart burns with an intensity never felt before. As the reality hits me that this can never happen, that I can never feel his love again, except in dreams, I am shattered. How can I pull the pieces back together?