Pere

Dad? Can you tell me a bedtime story?

Of course snowflake, of what?

How did you die?

That isn’t really a topic I’d like to discuss.

Please!

No.

You said you’d tell me a story.

Not a story like that.

Did it hurt?



Well?

It doesn’t matter.

How did it happen? It can’t hurt now, can it?

It’s as fresh in my mind as the day it happened.

Maybe if you tell me it wouldn’t be so bad.

Why do you want to know?

I’m curious. You know I am. My death was so boring, no pain, no story. But yours is truly something.

You’re kind of a sick kid, you know that?

I’ve told myself that many times before Dad. Just, please? One little bedtime story!

My body went numb when it felt the chilling water, happy?

No! I want details, how did it feel? What was your last thought? Did it hurt not being able to breathe?

I- Please, don’t ask me.

You promised.

And I also promised you I would come home, but I never did, did I?

But this is just a bedtime story, please?

I gave you some details…

Dad, come on, it can’t be that bad.

You died during your sleep you have no idea-

Then tell me.

You truly want to know?

Yes!

Everything?

Of course!

Well, I’ll tell you something then. I won’t say you’ll enjoy though, okay?

Alright. Just get on with it!

Okay, well, I was on a ship. A grand one, you know that. You would’ve had that ship if you’d become old enough to command it, and if it were still afloat. Ornate, with gorgeous wood work, fit for royalty, a lady stood at the front, emerging from the ship, reaching her hand to the sky-

Dad, I don’t want a novel, just a story.

You said you wanted details.

Not boring ones!

This is my death, I’m allowed to tell it however I’d like.

Okay, well, just skip to the good parts at least.

I will if you stay quiet.

I’ll try!

Good. Now me and your mother had just retired for the evening on the day-



The day the storm happened. Thunder crashed above, and lightning lit up our quarters from the window. We trusted our captain though, he had gotten us through worse before. He assured us it would be alright, and not to worry. Well, sometime during the night, your mum got up, probably feeling sick or something, and went up to the deck. The waves were rough. I never saw her alive again.

The wave encased the ship and we went under. The end, happy?

Daaaaaad.

Snowflake I-

Won’t it be nice to have it off your chest?

I guess so.

Alright, and-?

And- and I was trapped in the bedroom. I didn’t have much time to think. It flooded so fast. I was covered in water quickly- it was so cold. So utterly cold. I tried to gasp, and I only took in more water. It hurt, not breathing. I was trying to, my lungs were burning, I tried to kick and swim and squirm, but I was soon exhausted. I let myself sink in the floor, chest on fire despite the freezing water that encased me. Then darkness, then heaven.


Happy?


Yes, I suppose, thank you.

And why does your voice shake? Didn’t you enjoy it?

I did, it just- rattled me a bit.

Death isn’t pretty.

Of course not.

Will you go to sleep now?

Yes Father. I will.

Thanks, snowflake. Goodnight!



Night dad.

---

Name means Father in French
Okay so
In rehearsal I asked my Dad to tell me how he died
And he was a tad bit annoyed with me, and he always pretends to be
So he gave me these bitter remarks like he didn’t want to talk about it
And oh buddy boy the kick came out, not a full blow kick, not that lovely feeling that spreads throughout one’s stomach almost like a hill on a rollercoaster but bitter that I want so bad, but nice enough of a kick for me to enjoy it

So this dude is just gonna be a grumpy old dad in Heaven being pestered by his daughter who died in the middle, between childhood and adulthood, asking for one more bedtime story