short story

“He must have missed his plane,” is the one thought that keeps recurring in my mind.  “He got held up at the airport and will be home tomorrow.  He may even get home before I wake up and we can play tomorrow morning”.  I keep forcing this thought through my mind because if I don’t the truth will dawn on me.  I know that if I allow my-self to dwell on the thought that he did not come home tonight, I will realize that he is not coming home.

I don’t know what my mother and I will do if he does not come home.  He makes all the money for the family.  He pays the rent, the bills, and buys all the other things we need.  If he does not come back, we will lose our house.  My mother can’t work, she has anxiety issues and is not educated.  I won’t even be able to get to school.  I will have to go to that terrible little public school down the road, I don’t think I could do that with the stories about that place.  “He must have missed the plane, Dad will be home tomorrow morning,” I hurriedly push through into mind as I fall asleep staring at the celling.