Short Story on Belonging Yo Essay example

876 Words Oct 15th, 2010 4 Pages
Her father had loved literature his whole life. Once a book fell on he floor he would pick it up, pat it lovingly and place it back where it belonged. Once he was done with a book he would pass it on to someone who he believed would love it as much as he. It was the greatest way he could show affection, sometimes she believed the only way, the only passion that seemed to colour his once vibrant soul, that seemed to soften a face twisted and distorted by pain. Her mother had left them many years ago, and as she had stolen out silently into the darkness of that warm October night without any sort of warning, she stole pieces of their lives. Tahlia and her father were like a ruined jigsaw puzzle, whose pieces no longer quite fit. She took …show more content…
It only took a few minutes for shock to pass through her system and fear to creep in.
She had no family left. Her mother was only a memory tainted with bitterness. Her fathers’ parents had long passed and he had no brothers or sisters. She was eighteen and her father had left her the house along with everything in it. So at least things appeared to be simple on that front.
The funeral was quiet, there was no sobbing and Tahlia would only let a few of those clear coloured tear drops slide down her face. All those teenagers who once seemed so important to her seemed to fade away, unable to handle the discomfort that overwhelming sympathy has been known to throw around in ones face. Tahlia was alone, she had the few friends that stuck around, but their chatter seemed to hold no relevance. It was out of boredom that she began to gingerly finger through the books on his shelves. The dust particles from the seemingly ancient covers rising, circulating around her. She had not begun to read out of longing to be closer to a man that she had not known for many years. Her father was dead, and Tahlia believed that any chance for her to become closer to him was dead too. She had lost him twice, once when her mother left and the books swallowed him whole, and once physically, in death. In losing him she had lost hope in understanding him, and understanding herself. For in understanding is

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