“I can’t stand you!” were the last words I said. It has been 5 days now, and all I can think about is that stupid phrase replaying over and over in my head. That is the worst thing you could ever say to your dad before he dies. It's been a long week, if you ask me. I’ve done nothing but sleep, eat, and think about what happened that night.
    My dad and I were in the car, on our way home from my dance practice, when we got in a dumb argument about my school grades. “You are gonna have to get your grade up if you want to pass Geometry,” he said.
“Dad, I really don’t care. Can’t I just switch into a lower math class?” I answered while clenching fists.
“What’s the point of going to school if you’re not gonna challenge yourself?” I know you can bring your grade up; you just have to try.”
“Well, maybe I don’t wanna try,” I was very angry at this point. It is really frustrating when nobody understands how you feel. Math has always been the subject I despised the most.
“What is up with your attitude? I am just trying to help you.” Dad was pretty angry, but all I did was provoke him even more.
“I don’t need your help, Dad. I’m not five anymore, if you haven’t noticed!”
“I don’t appreciate your tone. You’re grounded. No phone and no having friends over. As soon as you get home from school, you’re gonna sit down and study. Am I clear?” Dad was so angry, but I didn’t care. I was not in the mood to deal with his attitude.
“I can’t stand you!” and that is where it all went wrong.
All I remember were the flashing lights of the car that had crashed against ours and my dad unconscious against the steering wheel. I was squeezed in between the passenger seat and the dash board. I couldn’t move, and all I could think about was whether or not I was going to make it out of this alive.
A few moments passed before an ambulance and police cars surrounded the accident. I was carefully taken out of the car and was laid on a stretcher.
I woke up and I noticed that I was in an unfamiliar place.
    My mom came over to me with tears in her eyes and notified me that my dad didn't survive the accident. Tears came running down my eyes. I regretted everything I said in the car ride. I never got to say goodbye, or that I loved him, or that I know he tried to be the best father he could be. It is horrible to think that my last moments with him were spent fighting over a stupid Geometry grade.
        
I took out my diary and began to write.
Dear Diary,
Up to this day, September 25th, 2015, I have not been the same person. How come I survived and he didn’t? I could have easily hit my head off of anything in front of me, but I didn’t. All I got from the accident was a broken leg and memories that will haunt me for the rest of my life.  So many things still don’t make sense to me, and I still can’t get over the fact that he is actually gone. I would do anything to see him one more time and tell him what a great father he was and apologize for everything I did wrong.
September 26th, 2015.
Dear Diary,
I've been feeling very uneasy lately and the house is very quiet. My mom doesn't talk much and my older brother is in and out of the house.

I had just finished the second chapter of a book that my dad had given me for Christmas last year. I put the book away in my nightstand drawer, and I decided to go to sleep.
I woke up the next day and I could already smell my mom making pancakes.i looked to my right side and saw that the book was out on top of my nightstand. I stared at it confusingly trying to figure out how the book could have ended up there. I came to the conclusion that I most likely didn’t put it away before I went to bed.  I put the book away.   Then, I got up and went to get some breakfast.
It was late and I was somewhat tired. I layed on my bed and started playing games on my phone. I had done nothing this whole day. I watched some T.V. and ate my weight in Twinkies.
I decided to read more from the book and when I looked, the book was once again on top of my nightstand. I know I wasn’t going crazy. I put the book away in the drawer.  I was sure of it. My brother was gone all day, so it couldn’t have been him. So then I called my mom and she came rushing to my room.
I asked if she had taken the book out of my drawer and she told me she hadn’t been in my room.
“Maybe it’s a ghost,” she joked. She turned the lights off and closed the door behind her.
Maybe it was a ghost. Something wasn’t adding up correctly. I brushed it off and decided to go to sleep.
I heard someone whisper into my ear and I immediately woke up. The book was on my bed next to me on my left side. I looked up towards the other side of the bed and I saw a shadowy tall looking figure. It was as if it was transparent, but it wasn’t. In a way it reminded me of my dad. I rubbed my eyes and made assured myself it wasn’t a dream. The figure was definitely there. Only, this time, I could make out what it was. It was, in fact, my dad. He looked at peace, he looked happy.
“Dad?” I called out.
“Yes?” he responded. I could not believe this was actually happening. How could this even be possible?
“I miss you dad. I love you, and I want you to know that I’m sorry,” I was in tears and the last words barely made it out of my mouth.
“It is ok. I am fine, and I love you too.”  As soon as he said that, he disappeared into a bright light that seemed to look like a portal going to another side. I wasn’t sure if I was ever going to see him again, but I’m glad he came to me. As he passed through the other side a wind blew as the portal started disappearing and the pages of the book flew open and landed on a page where a message was written.
Sofia, I hope you have a great Christmas and may you enjoy this book. Keep being the hard working and determined girl you are. You will always be my little girl.
-Love Dad