Ever since that loud 'Beep' that echoed throughout St.Anne's hospital room where my father lay on his death bed, I had cried every night. Tonight was no different as my sobs echoed throughout the cold room. I buried my face in my feather soft pillow and wanted to suffocate myself to stop the pain. Everything in me felt limp and everything in me ached.
Goosebumps covered my skin whenever I thought of my father doing something funny to make me happy. All of those days I came home upset from school he'd make jokes that were never funny but I would always laugh because he would always act so ridiculous.
" I'd do anything to keep your pretty smile on your face. Now go, make sure you finish your homeowrk." he would always say before he went to go and cook dinner.
After reminiscing the cherished moments with my father, I pulled my blanket over me and fell into a deep sleep.
~*~
I sat in an empty chair in our kitchen with a cup of black coffee sitting patiently in front of me. I had not cried at his funeral service and the reception was being held in our house. I could hear the chatter that flowed in the kitchen from our living room. My heart ached badly as I traced the tip of my cold finger on the edge of the cup.
Hearing footsteps enter the kitchen, I slowly turned around on the stool I was sitting on and seen the man from the Child Protection Services.
He was a tall white man with a large nose that looked like a beak to me. His thin white hair had already began balding and his eyes were small and beady. His black coat made a little noise as he eased himself onto the tall wooden stool across from me. He placed the file he was holding in front of him and gave me a slight smile.
" I'm very sorry for your loss, but we both know that you are not old enough to be without a guradian. I'm sorry to tell this to you, but if your father does not refer a legal guardian in his will or last testament, then we are going to have to find you foster parents. Would you like to look at the will now?" he asked, no sypathy or sadness in his tone of voice, which made me angry. Just because you have to do this everday, doesn't mean that you act harshly to kids who have just lost their only family.
" Yeah." I said, masking my irritation and anger because I know my father wouldn't like it if I didn't.
Opening up the file, he slid his glasses on and held it up to his face.
" Marie will own all of my property on the day that she turns 18. I give her all of my love and money......" his brows furrowed as he read along, but not aloud. " Hm...it just says that he wants to place you in the responsibility of a man named Logan..."
" Logan....my father always talked about him. How they were good friends for a long time before Logan went off on his own. He always told me about their times together." I said, trying to offer my knowledge to the man to decrease my chance of going to foster parents.
" Do you know what he looked like?" the guy asked as he peered at me over those tiny glasses that sat on the tip of his beak.
" No. Dad said he didn't like to take pictures. But maybe he'll show up today."
" Well, ask around. If you can't find him by tomorrow, then..." he let out a sigh and put the paper back in the file before sticking it back in his briefcase. Heaving his lanky self off of the stool, he made his way out of the once lively kitchen and back into our mourning living room.
Sighing, half scared, half inspired to find this Logan guy. I'll just ask everyone I don't know who the hell they are. That should work.
~*~
My sobs filled the cold room once again, but they weren't only mournful sobs, they were sad and angry sobs because I have until 3 in the afternoon tomorrow to find this Logan guy. I don't even know who the hell he is!
Laying on my back, I sniffed and wiped my leaking nose on the already damp sleeve of my sweater.
" Dad, help me please. I don't want to go to fos-" I began to say but then stopped when I heard the doorbell.
I quickly sat up, not sure whether to be excited or scared. Glancing at the clock that hung over my door, I seen that it was 11:27 p.m. . Who's here this late?
Walking barefoot in the lifeless and empty house, I made my way to the front door. I looked in the peep hole to see a man with a funny little hairdo. Nice side burns. Hah, is this some kind of joke?
" Who is it?" I called as I placed my hand on the locked doorknob.
" Uhm, an old friend of Owen's." the course voice said through the door.
Do I open the door or not? He may be some whacko. Oh, what the hell. Swinging open the door, my breathe caught in my throat at the real image of this man. Very....I don't know. Something was definitely......good about him.
" Hi, I'm Marie, his daughter. Come in." I said, moving aside to make way for him to come in. He shook his head and looked away, looking sad and remorseful.
" I just wanted to give my condolences and say that owen was a really great friend." the man said and began to turn away when the little imaginary lightbulb over my head turned on.
" Are you Logan!?" I asked, getting really excited. My smile broadened when his eyebrows furrowed and he gave me a small grin.
" Yeah. What's it to you, kid?" he said, completely facing me now with his hands out of his pockets.
Goodbye foster parents. Hello new guardian.
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