The funeral was short and cold.
Relatives trooped in and out of the family villa, comforting my mom and bringing flowers. The whole villa was filled with wailing, and my brother was nowhere to be found.
I stood in the hallway, looking in the direction of my father's grave.
My face was dry and pale. No tears came out. Not that I didn't want to cry, but I just couldn't.
It happened four days ago. He went to work and returned in hospital sheets.
It all didn't feel real to me. He had always been there for us, and he was the best dad anyone could ask for.
That day, after dropping her phone, my mom rushed out of the house like a thunderbolt. My brother and I exchanged puzzled looks and shrugged.
"Maybe it's nothing," we thought.
Until our Aunt Zena came to pick us up.
"Olivia, Ethan, I want you two to brace yourselves," she started.
"Your father got into a car accident, and he's in critical condition... He might not make it out of that hospital alive," she said.
It didn't sit right with me. I fell silent and froze. Ethan had to hug me all through the ride to the hospital.
When we got there, we saw my mother. Two nurses were holding her as she wept uncontrollably.
No one had to tell me before I knew that Dad was gone.
The man who made sure we were always happy. The man who'd get us ice cream on his way back home. The man who'd take us on vacations and spend his weekends playing sports with us.
He was gone.
...Clank.
My phone dropped to the ground.
I went down on my knees, my eyes fixated on my helpless mother. Ethan had rushed over to her, comforting her and crying with her.
But here I was.
Not a single tear dropped from my eyes.
I managed to mumble, "Sad," with a shaky breath, and Aunt Zena noticed me.
She simply turned and left for my mother's side.
I felt my chest tighten.
I couldn't bear it.
It was just too much for me to take in.
I blanked out, staring at the ceiling on my knees until Ethan came and jolted me out of my trance.
"It's time to go home, Olivia," he said while helping me up.
I looked at the wall clock.
It said 3:00 a.m.
It had been ten hours since my dad died.
We all went back home in Aunt Zena's car.
The drive home was silent.
Everyone seemed to have grief they were holding in their hearts.
Only my mom kept sobbing, and I wouldn't blame her.
A few days later, Dad's ashes arrived and were placed down the hall with his picture and flowers around them.
I kept staring at the picture, wishing...
Just wishing he'd walk out of his room right now and tell me he wasn't dead.
---------
About a month later
Monday morning
9:00 a.m
"Olivia! Ethan! I hope you've packed everything you need?" my mom called from the living room.
"Yes, Mom," we replied.
It was Monday morning, and we were moving to a new city.
After Dad died, my mother figured it would be best to change locations to help us heal mentally, and to be honest, it wasn't a bad idea.
We packed our stuff, put the house up for sale, took Dad's ashes with us so we could give him a proper burial, and said goodbye to all our friends.
The new city was awesome, even better than the one we were coming from.
The streets were wide and bright, with attractive scenery and parks.
The roads were smooth and well-built, and the houses were top-notch.
We drove to the new house my mom had purchased beforehand.
Though not as big as our former villa, it was still awesome, with two stories and five bedrooms.
Now it was time to choose schools.
Ethan had always wanted to go to a boarding school, so my mom enrolled him in one of the best boarding schools in the city and enrolled me in the city's prestigious private high school.
It was very big and awesome.
I loved it.
The next week, we both got admitted, and my mom also submitted her application to a company in her field of work.
So now begins a new life!