Short Stories #1: Guess who died?
A/N: First original content post. Enjoy. A bit sad.
I sat on my couch, rummaging through my Facebook feed - mindlessly, while sipping on some apple juice, because coffee never held my taste. I was halfway through the bottomless pit of useless posts, when something caught my eye. It was a co-worker, from three jobs ago - they had posted about an older actor, the words “Rest In Peace” next to their name had made my heart drop.
Ever since I could remember, my siblings and I had this morbid obsession with being the first ones to tell our Dad about certain celebrity deaths. Who ever got to him first would walk up to his spot on the couch, while he watched Judge Judy, and tap his shoulder and say, “Guess who died?”
When we’d tell him who, he’d responded with a “Oh, man”, especially if it was someone he had admired or liked. Thinking about it now, it was sorta odd, the pride we felt when we were the one to tell him the news.
Who was going to be the one to break the news to Dad?
I remember when Michael Jackson died, I was up North, a few hours away from my family, when I heard the news over the radio. Immediately, I phoned my Dad and he was shocked and I was happy. Happy to be the one to deliver the news, even years after, he’d bring it up and say how he didn’t know until I called him.
So as I googled the actor’s name to confirm his death, a familiar number popped onto my screen. I smile weakly and answered, it was my sister.
“Hey, did you hear about..”
“Yeah, yeah, I heard. So are we going today?”
“Yeah,” she confirmed quietly. “I’m bringing Abel, he got the day off.”
“Okay, I’ll see you guys there.”
Four hours later, my sister, brother, and I stood outside in the cold. Being the oldest, I stood in the middle and kneeled down beside the gravestone - it was always clean, we made sure of it.
Always with fresh flowers too.
“I came the other day,” Abel said. “The rain left some spots, so I cleaned it up.”
“It looks good,” my sister smiled and wrapped a hand around his waist. I looked over my shoulder to my little sister and brother and smiled, before looking down at our father’s tombstone - it had been two years.
“Hey, dad, guess who died.”