The Day Dad Died

"Dad, please!" I whispered through my tears. I knew he didn't want me to make a scene on the bus. But why wouldn't he listen?

"A man is going to come on the bus, he's bringing a bomb, you're going to die! We have to leave right now, or it'll be too late!" I pleaded with him.

He looked at me with concern in his eyes. Then he sighed, and seemed to think for a moment.

"How about this, if anyone gets on the bus who looks even a little bit suspicious, I'll get everyone off, okay?" He put his hand on my shoulder.

I nodded my head reluctantly. He was never going to listen.

"Now," He wiped the tears off of my face, "I have to drive to the next stop, so go sit down."

I didn't want to move, I wanted to make him get off of the bus, but he gave me a little push back in the direction of my seat.

I sat right behind him instead, determined to save him if the time came.

Maybe I'm wrong, I attempted to convince myself. But I knew I wasn't.

I sniffled and tried to stop crying. But my stomach was filled with knots, and I felt like I was going to be sick.

We got to the next bus stop, and a bunch of people got on. I searched every single person with my eyes, but I got interrupted when someone tapped my shoulder.

"Hey there, how was school today?" Ms. Sherry, a regular who always got on the bus at this stop asked.

I didn't answer and whirled back around just to see the doors close and a man with a very loose jacket on standing right in front of my dad.

The bomb, it had to be under that jacket!

I tapped dad on the shoulder and leaned in close, so only he could hear, "That's him."

But the man payed his money and stood a few rows behind me.

I watched his every move confusedly.

Dad put his hand behind his seat and patted me on the knee.

I looked at the back of dad's head. So I was wrong. Good. I sighed, realizing I hadn't been breathing. I thought I was about to lose dad. After everything he'd done.

He'd been raising me on his own since I was five, and for the last nine years since then, he made me his priority. He works two jobs, and barely eats these days to pay the bills and give me everything I need.

We were supposed to get a slice of birthday cake after he was done with his shift on the bus. But when I got on I knew what was going to happen.

I leaned back in my seat, looking out of the window as we were about to take off.

"Wait!" A voice from behind me called. It was the man with the loose jacket.

He walked to the front of the bus, and turned around, facing all of the passengers.

Then he unzipped his jacket and I couldn't breathe again. A bunch of people gasped towards the back.

"I have a bomb. I'm going to blow this whole bus up unless you-"

"Get out of here as soon as you can." Ms. Sherry whispered in my ear, cutting off the rest of what he was saying.

I reached out to put my hand on my dad, but he stood up before I got the chance.

"Come on, now. Let's calm down." He said.

He gave me a reassuring smile before he reached behind him and pressed a button, opening all of the exits on the bus.

Everyone immediately started running out of doors, jumping out of windows, escaping in any way they could.

Ms. Sherry grabbed my arm and yanked me up, dragging me to the nearest door and out onto the sidewalk.

"No! No, he's going to kill him!" I yelled as I struggled to get out of her arms. I could feel the tears coming back.

"There's nothing you can do, now come with me." She held her grip on my arm as she started running away from the bus.

I kept watching the bus as she pulled me with her, and I could see my dad holding up his hands in front of him and the man yelling.

I turned my head towards Ms. Sherry, and heard a loud boom coming from behind us.

"Daddy!" I screamed, ripping away from her and looking back at the bus.

A huge, growing bubble of fire encircled it as pieces of debris flew in different directions.

Ms. Sherry pushed me onto the ground and put her body on top of mine.

I felt something heavy land on her and covered my ears, tears streaming down my face.

"Dad, why didn't you listen? Daddy, daddy, come on," I kept saying.

How about this, if anyone get's on who looks even a little suspicious, I'll get everyone off, okay?

I kept hearing him say it over and over.

He knew I was right. He meant that he would get everyone off but himself. He saved me, leaving me with the stereotype of being another black child without a father.

I felt someone push Ms. Sherry's body off of mine and shake me gently.

I couldn't move. How was I supposed to? I had just lost everything.

"Hey, are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?" I heard someone say.

I forced myself to sit up.

The voice came from a man with piercing blue eyes, maybe in his twenties, who looked at me worriedly with his hand still on my shoulder.

I looked over at Ms. Sherry. She was just lying there, not moving. It felt like someone had just poured ice onto my head, and it made it all the way down my body. I had to fight not to throw up.

"Don't look at her." The man blocked my view of her with his body.

"Are you okay?" He asked again.

I realized I had stopped crying. I wiped my face with my sleeve and paused for a moment. Then I pushed through the dizziness onto my feet.

I took another long look at Ms. Sherry and started walking in the other direction, the blue eyed man calling after me. I had nowhere to go, but I knew eventually I would end up somewhere.

Eventually.