Greetings. My name is Tiffany Bennett. I am around 23. Engaged to a man of the same age named Ivan Williams. Daughter of an old merchant by the old streets of London, I am a novelist that works in the most well-known city of the world as the city of the love. I've been a novel book writer for almost 5 years. I became famous for my books "The footsteps by the seashore", "The alibi of Ms. Thompson", "The silence of the owl", "Your name", "The lost city of Uramacsitanalta", "The code of Countess of Symposia", "Antidechlorobenzene", and well, and many others. I even wrote a book about an evil butler who killed his master to be the next noble man. Oh, for so many years of writing books, I would classify myself as just one of those possible protagonists on each story I made.

I started living in Paris just as after I graduated high school. Because I chose such a course, my old father can't afford to have me enrolled to any of the schools in England. But he knew a friend who could help me. So, I was enrolled to a boarding school in Paris called Collége St. Gommery des arts et de la littérature. It was a nice place to spend for your whole life in College as an art student.

Long story short, I met a classmate in a café whom was enrolled in a fine arts class, and he's a really good painter. Finding that he's a fellow British, we found love.

Paris truly is the city of love. Until, we graduated college. He became a famous painter and I became a famous novel writer. Then he proposed to me at the base of the Eifel tower. We got engaged. We had such wonderful lives and such wonderful careers. But my father never left England.

When I was in my freshmen years of high school, there was a family crisis and the antique store that my father managed got bankrupt. So, my mother filed a divorce and left us. But, as long as life goes, my father managed to make it all work out again.

I just can't help but put myself in wonder on why he hasn't had any plans on moving here in Paris.

Paris is such a wonderful place. I'm pretty sure that he'll love it here. But, I'm quite not sure, because I can't contact him. I now live in a modernized world where letters are now dead. We now use ransom gadgets in order to contact each other. Maybe that is why. He is very old and with only an old antique store to keep your wallet breathing, well he can't afford a phone or even a laptop.

So, to make his plans final and my thoughts firm, I went to England and visited him. Of course, I plan on making him live with me, as his daughter, in Paris.

So, Ivan and I went to England only to spare a short time there. Like I said, I just wanted to make my thoughts clear to know if he's planning on living with us.

As we arrived, he was surprised to seeing us to his doorstep. And because of the lack of Communication, he has no idea that we are to visit him. Of course, he can only send letters to me. But we were so happy to see each other. After all, we haven't seen each for my whole life in college with the addition of a few more years in living with our jobs in mind.

I wanted to buy him a phone, but he resisted. He said that he doesn't want to use phones or any type of gadgets. So I asked him if he wants to live with me in Paris. But he just smiled at me. I just have no idea on what he's thinking in that old little mind he has.

I wanted to bring him to Paris. During the nights we stayed there, I wasn't able to sleep properly of thinking if he'll be happy there in Paris or if he even had a passport. I just wanted to give the happiness that I got in Paris. I just really wanted him to be happy for the rest of his life. I wanted to have him with me while he's still here in earth and still breathing. I wanted to see him smile every day. He's always been there for me. He's done so much for me. I just want to return that happiness back to him.

Then, morning came. We still have one last day to spend there.

My father invited me to have tea with him. So, I took the opportunity to have a father-daughter talk with him. I made tea for the both of us. Then we sat there outside, by the porch and just talk about a few things.

Then he asked me, "Tiffany, have you had a good sleep?"

"Why do you ask me that, father?"

"Tiffany darling, are you alright? You don't seem so as we speak." He said.

"Father...I'm alright. There's nothing to worry about."

"Tiffany, your eyes look a bit sore...what have you been thinking about? Do you have any worries about certain things? Don't think about it a little too personal. I am your father. I want you to know that you can trust me in anything. No matter how heavy it would burden you." He said to make me feel calm.

"Father, why did mother leave us?"

It slipped from my mouth.

"You see darling, there was a man she met. This man she found made her happier. She thought that maybe she'll be able to have a good start again. Remember that she divorced me because our antique shop got bankrupt? Well, it's about that. You see, she only loved me before because of the antique shop my family had. It was so famous before. We gain so much money because of it." He answered.

"So you started the business for a long time..."

"Yes darling. It had been my family business for so many years. It became hilarious enough to think that throughout our family's history, we managed the same antique shop." He left out a full laugh at this thought.

"Come to think of it, even the shop became an antique. Only that, it's not for sale." I left out a chuckle.

He laughed back in agreement to my thought.

"What else happened between you and mother, father?" I asked.

He left out a solemn smile then said, "And then, she told me that she would rather go to someone that will keep him happy and feed her with many delicious food of the whole world. That she met a man that is better than a man that owns an antique in which no one goes to no more. I'm sorry if I made you feel the same way as your mother did for me, Tiff." He said.

I hugged him. I felt so sad for him after so many things happened. My poor old father. He was such a very nice man. My mother was too selfish. She didn't thought about me, her only daughter. She only thought about her pleasure, her luxurious life, and her comfort. I don't see happiness in that. She should've realized that my father loved her and did a lot of things for her. Usually, men facing with these problems would leave it to their wives and then start drinking and doing drugs, even hang out with many ladies, and even marry another woman. Some would commit suicide, some would file annulment on his wife, and some would do a lot of things that are not good. She should be grateful enough that my father, his ex-husband, didn't even plan on doing those things. Instead, he even did more for his only daughter.

That is why I love my father so much. He just tells me all the things he knows about this world. I would treasure those wisdoms, those secrets, and those precious things he tells me.

He really loved tending his garden. He placed many cute flowers there. He never failed on watering the flowers every morning.

He's a really gentle person.

I just don't understand what my mother's thinking anymore. Or just what sees in a man that walks along the streets with an Albino Bengal tiger tied unto a golden leash.

I just don't understand why she's so selfish.

Then, I asked my father, "Father, do you have a passport?"

He then smiled at me and said, "Darling Tiffany, I guess I forgot to tell you that before I became the manager of the antique shop, I joined the military platoon. Because the war made our business slower. We became bankrupt because of the war. So I joined the war and fought good. And to tell you, I travelled the world by see. So, I do have one."

As he said this, "Paris would be a nice place...won't it?"

I hugged him and was so excited that I immediately looked for his passport. Good enough that he had made a new one.

Then we went back to Paris by plane. This will be the first time that my father will ride a plane.

Although, I'm quite glad that father came with me back to Paris. I thought he never will. Knowing him, as an old man that would gravely enjoy the solemn presence of home, I never thought that he'll be obliged to come. But actually, I didn't want him to come just because I wanted him to live a luxurious life in Paris. It's because in England, he might be taken away and be forced to live in the home for the aged. Because he is my father and I love him, I wouldn't be satisfied in knowing that he'll be living in that place for almost all eternity. That is certainly quite a dreadful situation.

So, I guess that's alright for him to live with me here in such a luxurious and lively place. But I guess that is one of the reasons why he wanted to come.

Or maybe, accept the invite.

After only a few hours, we arrived in Paris.

Paris, such a wonderful city. This way, father won't have to endure much of that gloomy place. Paris is the type of city filled with many cafes, many beautiful roses, many savory dishes alongside desserts that'll make your eyes tear of caramel goodness.

While England is just too gloomy. Some kids' age of 15 might feel they're 30. It's a city filled with nonstop rain, desserts with a mixture of hard and soft, bitter lemon tea, and of course, a city filled of inspirations when you're writing a book.

Both are such old cities. But, then again, it's really nice if my father had a little time to relax. This is my time to reward him for being such a good father to me.

In Paris, he always went to parks and just sits on a bench for the whole day.

He would usually wait for me there, or just wait for Ivan until he's done with his work. Then they'll spend the rest of the day just together. They would go to cafes, or Ivan will just accompany him sitting on the bench of any park.

Then, they'll wait for me. Then, we'll have supper.

The same thing happens each day.

Then my father asked me, "Tiffany dear, about Ivan and your relationship with him..."

"Yes father?" I asked.

"Do you two have plans on having children? Having a family?" he wondered.

"Well, I'm not quite sure on how to answer that...I'm not so sure yet." I answered.

He left a relaxed sigh. Then he said, "It's alright dear...if you're not ready yet, I understand...it's really quite a handful to have a family...I tell you...I have experience myself..."

Then, that same thought went into my head.

"Why did you want to come me here in Paris, father?" I asked all of the sudden.

He left a gentle smile and replied, "Then, why did you invite me to come with you?"

I was speechless at what he said.

This old man really has enough wisdom to fool the youth. My jaw dropped as he said that.

Then we both laughed at that scenario.

Then I said to him, "You see, father, you are very old now. Maybe, if you stayed there a little longer, maybe someone will take you to the home for the aged. I don't want that to happen to you. You see father, I love you so much. You've done too much for me already. I don't think that's really a way to show gratitude to the parent who took good care of you ever since you were very little. That is quite disappointing. I don't wanna feel regret to that time that come that you will leave me forever in your sleep and never come back again. If possible, I wanted to take good care of you and will be able to see you to your last days."

I hugged him directly and tears fell from my eyes.

I could feel the same warmth that held me from the very day I was born. I wanted to feel that warmth until I grow as old as he is. I wasn't able to feel the mother's warmth anymore. Because she left us in a time when we are in the verge of such difficulty that we can't even put our plates with even a potato.

I don't want to see her again after what happened to us. She only thought of herself. I couldn't even have the nerve to call her as my mother.

I just can't help but an unhealable anger of her.

Because she is my mother. She should've done what she should.

Now, all I could care for is my father.

He didn't say anything after that.

Days passed, I noticed that my father isn't feeling quite well.

So, I took him to the doctor for checkup.

The doctor checked his heartbeat and I could see the worry in her eyes.

"Your father is quite old. But I think he has heart issues. His heart isn't doing well. Its beat is quite slow." She said.

"Yes, Doc. He has them." I replied.

"Also, I have bad news...the bad news is he has Viral Pneumonia." She said.

My eyes widen in shock.

"Pneumonia isn't quite a serious thing to worry about. It's quite common with children and senior citizens as well and as it lasts only for a short time. However, the flu virus can cause viral pneumonia to be severe or even fatal. This'll be tough for your father especially because he has heart issues." She stated.

She then left after her statement as she slowly left the room, like she really felt sorry for me.

My whole world crumbled into pieces. It is compared to a glass mirror that fell and broke into many uncountable pieces of shards that pierced me in the heart one by one.

I never felt so broken in my entire life

I looked at my father, lying weak on his hospital bed.

I feel so sad. Just looking at him makes me feel even worse.

If I could do anything that'll make him happy, I'd take that diseases from him and throw them away in the deep abyss of the Pacific Ocean.

I then went home.

It doesn't feel the same way as it did before when my father was still there. I know that nothing can change. The doctors might try their best, but right now, I think not. He's very old now. They'll probably just let him lay peacefully in his stretcher.

I understand. It's okay.

I just don't know what to do anymore. So, I wrote a poem about my father.

I didn't want to publish this to the public. I just wanted to express how I love my father.

And so I finished. I have never written a poem that deep before. All my life I have been used to writing books, writing novels, writing short stories, that I forgot the rules on how to construct a poem.

Then my cellphone rang. I quickly picked it up and answered a call which was from Ivan.

"Ivan, hello!" I said in the phone.

Then I hear him sobbing and crying.

"Ivan, what's wrong?" I asked.

"It's...It's your father...quickly!" he weepily said.

I didn't even have the time to do anything at all anymore. I wasn't even able to lock the house door. I immediately started the car, and drove to the hospital as fast as the car could ever do.

Then, I ran to his room. Then, I saw him. I approached him, and sighed in relief knowing that he's still breathing. Then, he whispered to my ear.

"You were right, Tiffany. The time will come, and you won't have to regret anything anymore. I wanted you to know something that you should've known before. But I was too scared to let you know. So, I wrote you a letter. I guess there isn't much time left for me anymore. Let's spend our last minutes together now while we still have."

Tears flowed softly down to my cheeks.

I held his weak hand, inserted with dextrose, and whispered weepily, "Father...I know that this day will soon come. I wrote my first and last poem to you. Because I love you so much. I really don't want to lose you."

"Dear, I can no longer see. I cannot read the poem you made for me. But please, I would love to hear your voice reading it to me, as I have done before when you were little and I used to read you your bedtime stories."

I did as he wished. I read it to him as my tears kept flowing.

Then, as I finished, He gave his last gentle smile to me.

I felt his weak old hand and it was very cold. There were no more pulses.

I ran away and cried.

I went back to my house by just running. I just ran with my tears flying across the air.

And I went inside the house and sat there with W-formed legs. Then I read the letter...

"Dear Tiffany.

You were everything that I wished for. You were like an angel that shined so ever bright. The first time I saw you, I felt the cold temperature coming from the tears that went across my eyes. I cried as I saw you. You were so gentle, so precious, so adorable, and so helpless. I should've told you this before so that you won't ever feel sad once I leave you alone forever and never come back again. That was something I could never do to you from the very first day I met you...."

My eyes widen as this sentence just had such a significant meaning to it.

Yet, I read it further.

"...You see darling, I am not your real father. So is your mother whom left us from the day the antique shop almost closed down. The truth is, the day you were born, your real mother left you because she was expecting a boy. She could never accept you because you are who you are. She wanted to throw you away. The doctors wept when they plan on doing this. I took a long time to think. Because, if you were my real daughter, I would never mind all your mistakes. You're my daughter. And you will always be. Even if I just took you from her, I will take care of you. I was afraid to tell you this because I thought that you might leave me. Even though you don't really have the business skills of any antique shop owner, even if you don't look like any of my relatives, you will always be my little princess. Just like any story I tell you before you sleep. I will always love you dear.

Your father, Johnny Bennett"

That explains everything.

I just loved him even more. I could never be able to return that kindness he has done to me. He will always be my father. Blood could never do a thing about it.

Until...

A girl dressed in marvelous laced dress came unknowingly. I stood up from my stool in shock and exclaimed, "Who are you?"

"Tiffany...the Dream Box calls for you...it has heard your cries. Do you want to be given a solution to your cries?" she said.

"First, tell me who you are! What is this Dream Box you say? How did you even know where I am? I'm quite sure we haven't met before..." I exclaimed.

She nodded her head and said, "It is true on what you said. But, I have pitied you so much. And, I'm afraid that you have no more chances in having to know the Dream Box anymore because it is already too late. I have come to you directly and personally, yours truly. Now, I wanted you to have your wish. Please, come now and tell me what it is. The dream box is waiting for you."

"But...what is the dream box? Why do you say that it has come to me?" I asked.

"The dream box is a magical box that will grant your one greatest wish. I am Morticia, the guardian of the Dream Box. The dream box has chosen you to wield and have a slice of its power. Now, tell me your wish..." She answered.

I have nothing else to wish for...

"I wish...to live with my father in paradise...That's it...nothing more...nothing less. That is all I want...to live in heaven and spend all my life with my father like we used to do."

Then, she smiled and she opened the box.

"Your wish is granted..." she said with an echoing voice.

Then, I looked around my house...she was gone.

It felt all just the same. But...something grabbed me.

I looked to my ankle, and I saw the owl from my book, the Silent of the owl.

It was such a peculiar thing to happen. In fact, in that novel that I made, It was such a rare owl that not one would be living here in Paris. They barely even migrate.

The, I looked around the floor, and it shined. I was standing on top of a gigantic book, and the house walls turned into giant book shelves.

The floor turned book has real pages of the novel I written called The Silent of an owl. This is why the owl from that story actually appeared. This is quite surprising.

Then, the pages flipped fast like a strong wind went across it. But, since I was standing on top of it, and in between the pages, the pages flipped by a strong wind, stopped at me.

It was heading to an unknown direction until, I saw the picture I added in the book. It was a painting made by my fiancé Ivan. A painting of a lighthouse standing on a little island. I suddenly noticed that this isn't the book of the owl. This is a different book. This is from 'The alibi of Ms. Thompson'

I recognize this scenario. This is the scene that Ms. Thompson murdered a con man and decided to bury him by the docks. Until everyone saw the floating corpse, they weren't able to discover that it was she who did it.

Then, the deer from the novel 'Footsteps by the seashore approached me. I remembered that this was the deer that no one could hunt. The deer that lived in the clouds.

The deer looked at me in the eyes. Then I sat on its back. He flew across the sky. I saw all the pages of my books. I recognize every single chapter that flew across me.

It was truly a wonderful sight, a wonderful feeling to be like those characters that experienced this.

Now I know...imagination has in immense power.

Then the deer stopped and took me to a willow tree.

This is exactly one thing that I did not remember.

Then, the owl gave me a paper by its beak. I took it, and saw...

A picture of my father...

Then, I heard a laugh behind the tree. I somehow recognized that laugh...

It was my father.