He's not Coming is He

18:30
I'm nine years old and its my first ever performamce. I've been practicing for months, running the lyrics over and over till the words feel like part of me. He promised he's coming. I know he is. He left us less than a month ago, but I'm still his. Hani blom. He's going to be so proud of me.

18:45
There's still plenty of time left, I only go on at seven. The show just started but I'm sure he's just running late. I know he's busy, its nothing new. Maybe he's working.

18:55
I didn't see him come in. Maybe he's in the back. I can't wait to hear what he thought. I'm singing one of his favourite songs, its a surprise I know he's going to love.

19:00
I come on to the stage. I can't see him. Its probably just the lights, he's there in the crowd. I know he is. The music starts to play and I hear my cue.

"Think of me, think of me fondly
When we've said goodbye
Remember me once in a while
Please promise me, you'll try...."

It was perfect! I didn't mess up once. I saw my pappa in every word. I want him to know how much I love him.

After the show.
Everything is a blur. I run to the table where I know they're sitting. I see the empty chair and I stop dead. My legs carry me to the table, though I can't feel them. I can't feel anything. I'm empty inside. My family greet me in a flurry of congratulations, but I don't care. On the way home my mother is like a magpie, nervously chattering away. Finally we stop in front of the gate. She asks me if I want to call him and tell him how it went.

"No."

Written for the hollow competition