• The Literacy Test


    It was during the literacy test, when the memories flooded back to me. It was all because of that one damn question in the second half of the test. Those painful memories drowning my mind for a few brief minutes, before I skipped it and went back to doing the test. But that one memory I could not get out of my head. It was just one lone memory that should not have been there at all in the first place, though it was there, implanted in my mind for all eternity. It would never go away and I was certain of that.

    I finished half of the test, and took my thirty minute break. I sat on the steps of my school, gossiping with fellow classmates, while drinking juice and eating a granola bar. It was suppose to help us ‘think’ better after so long on one test. I thought it was ridiculous, but if I could talk with my friends for a while then it was alright.

    Afterward is when I discovered that question. I stared at it for a long ten minutes, wasting all the time I had left, though I truly didn’t need that much time. The question brought back vivid memories that I wish would stay away. I ignored the question and continued with the rest of the test until I finished it.

    I had finished earlier though, at least twenty minutes earlier then I intended to. I sighed heavily and checked over my answers. When I was done that, I went back to the question I had skipped. The torturous question that I didn’t want to do.

    “Make sure to do every single question class, it is sad to see a student fail by one mark. You have fifteen minutes left.” The teacher at the front said. I looked up from my test and looked around briefly before looking back down at my test.

    I stared at the question long and hard. There was only one answer that I thought would fit this question, though that one answer would be a sad one. The memories flooded back like an unwelcomed guest. I couldn’t stop it, I don’t know why but I just couldn’t.

    I ran home as fast as my little legs could carry me. I was so excited to see my father again. He was supposed to come back today, mom said so. He was gone for so many months; all I wanted to see was my daddy again! At age eight, I was a daddy’s little girl. It broke my little heart when I heard he wasn’t going to be home for eight long months. But, he promised me he would come back, and that we could have ice cream together.

    I got home ten minutes later, and burst through the door, only to find what I didn’t expect. I was frozen in front of the living room, the door still open, my eyes were wide and my mouth hung open in shock. There on the couch was my mother, crying softly. Two men I recognized as my father’s friends that he went to war with were seating across from her with sadden expressions on their faces. I didn’t know what was going on, but all I knew was that my daddy was hurt, or in trouble.

    “Mama?” I said softly, my voice scared because my daddy was not there, and mom was crying, that was never a good sign. She finally looked up at me, as more tears rolled down her face, and made me cringe in fear of what she was going to say.

    “Sweetie, I didn’t know you were back, would u like a snack?” she said, as if nothing was wrong. She had a smile on her face. I knew she was trying to act happy, mama always did this.

    “Mama where’s daddy? Did something happen?” my voice shook as I said that, I was terrified.
    “Oh baby, daddy isn’t coming back.” She said sadly, and then she burst into tears all over again. I just stood in shock. I looked at her and then looked at my father’s friends.

    “Where’s my daddy?! I want to see my daddy! Where is he?!” I shrieked, and shook physically as I started to cry myself. They had frowns on their faces, and one of them looked away. The other one was the one that spoke.

    “He isn’t coming back. I’m sorry.” He said sadly, I could here the sadness in his voice. I knew my father was one of his best friends.

    After hearing that I fainted on the floor, out of shock.

    I was shaken out of my memory at the sound of the teacher’s voice once again.

    “Finish up the last question you are on, the test is over. Please hand them in.”

    I quickly scribbled down my answer and got up and handed in my test. I pretended like nothing was wrong, as I gather my things and headed out the class to meet my friends.

    Later that night, I had the urge to draw out the picture of my and my father together. I was six at the time, and we were playing in the park and mom decided to take a photo. In the photo was of me and my father, on the swings. He was pushing me and had a huge smile on his face, while I was laughing in the picture.

    I smiled sadly at the picture. My father’s car had a bomb in it, the day he was making his way to the plane to come home. That day his friends were already back and had the news, and informed my mom. I came home when they were done explaining what happened to her.

    I missed him every single day, though I know he hates me being sad. No father would want there daughter to be sad. I put the photo back into the drawer and lay down in bed. I covered myself and turned on my side and looked out the window there.

    Tears build up in my eyes as I remembered the question from the test. I closed my eyes silently and cried myself to sleep, after whispering Good night daddy.

    What is the place you want to visit the most?

    I want to go heaven, to see my daddy again.