"I'm so sorry, Mommy," I apologised, feeling my tears starting too. "I didn't mean to yell at you."
"It's okay, Baby." She gently kissed my forehead, the way she always did. The way he used to. "I'm sorry too."
"Why did he do this?" I knew it was useless, but I had to ask anyway. "Was it because of me?"
"What?" She was startled for a second, then shook her head and stroked my hair again. "No, not you, Baby. Never."
"Then why?" I didn't want to make Mommy feel even sadder right now, since she was all I had now. Again, she shook her head - still with that smile on her face.
"Daddy wasn't well," she said. "He hadn't been for a very long time, but he was too proud to ask for help. He thought he should've always been strong for us, for everybody."
We both cried in each other's arms that night, until I fell asleep again. I silently prayed, something that I knew I'd be doing for the rest of my life since that night:
God, if you are really there, please...Please, don't send Daddy to hell...
He was just unwell...
Songs that have inspired this story:
