Hello people! ✨ Keeri is finally back! ✨

First of all, I sincerely apologise for being inactive for almost a month and for abandoning this award during that time!

But from now on, I will be as active as possible because I have finally gotten through everything that had been happening.

Today, I will be posting the results for First Love with Suga category! Hehehe, and I will be officially continuing this award! ;)

It's just that, unfortunately, my father passed away this month, on September 10, at 11:30 pm. It was a very emotional experience and I was the only one with him the entire time, as no other members of my family were present. I had to admit him to a hospital because he suddenly experienced breathing problems around 5:30 am. I called an ambulance, and he was admitted with an oxygen mask. The doctors said they can't do any further treatments because his Jaundice had worsened and his blood level was down to just 4.1.

I had to travel with him for six hours in an ambulance that I booked myself, and then admit him to a hospital in a district I knew nothing about. What made it even harder was that it was just me, a 19 year old, handling everything in a large hospital in an unfamiliar place. It was extremely overwhelming, and I was also dealing with my period at the time, without any other extra napkins. I had to make do with just one from the afternoon until the next morning.

The most emotional part was that I couldn't be with my father during his final moment. I had gone to pay the admission bill, and when I returned 15 minutes later, he was already gone. Hid blood level dropped to 2.9, with fluids surrounding his heart. His eyes, yellow from Jaundice, were wide open, and there was blood pooling in his mouth as he was connected to various machines. I was told that he had gone to coma, suffered a brain stroke, and a heart attack simultaneously, leading to his death.

You know, I didn't know things would turn out this way. I didn't expect things to end this way. I took his body back home in another ambulance that I booked myself again, on September 11.

I cried alone in a corridor but when I returned to his ward, I couldn't cry when he left me. They were too many people around, and I never cry easily. My pride held me back. But after that, there were no tears left and I couldn't cry anymore.

I thought I had accepted the fact that he was no more, that I was okay. But on the night of September 11, when I went to sleep, it finally hit me. It registered in my mind that he was no longer there and that he would never be there for me again. Every night before going to sleep, I would check on him if he's sleeping alrighty and would adjust his blanket and would leave silently. That night, I realised that I could never do that again. It was a hard truth to swallow, and it still is. I thought I wouldn't be able to live anymore without his presence, without his affection. Even though he was an alcoholic, always giving importance to alcohol, still he was my father.

My life was like this: Every evening around 6:30 pm, my home would turn into a living hell because that was the time he would come back home, fully drunk and start fights for any reason, breaking things and stuffs in the house. The amount of times I wanted to run away, the amount of times I wanted to fall off the building, the amount of times I wanted to slit my wrist, those days were the worst. I always hated the night, the moon, everything. At night, he was like demon I never wish to see or talk to.

But still, he was my father. The father I loved, and will always love, because during the day, he was my only friend at home. Even though I hated him at night for making my life miserable, I loved him more than anyone during the day, and that will never change. I still love him.

Even though he wasn't the best husband to my mother or the best father to me, I knew he was always trying his best to be. But it was the alcohol that ultimately ruined him. He tried his best to fix what he had broken in me, but he never succeeded. Still, it was enough, his presence was enough for me.

I remember the times I would lie about feeling sick just so he would take me to college on his bike, the chilly air and the random funny conversations we had during the ride, or when he would buy me any drawing materials without hesitation... Thinking about all of this now makes me feel sad, as if I didn't do enough for him, even though I am the one who took care of him for two months. I just wish he could have lived a little longer, atleast until I graduated.

When he died, I still remember his eyes-- dark yellow with the red corners due to Jaundice-- wide open and staring at the ceiling with no life, his mouth hung open with no signs of breath. It was a sight I will never forget.

But now, I realised that I don't have any choice but to move on. I don't have either of my parents anymore-- my mother died when I was three.

Now being the eldest of the family, I have to pull myself together and work hard for the future. I am in my third year of college, set to graduate in six months with a degree in mathematics. I am planning to pursue a master's degree after that.

End of the story-- just wanted to remind you all to take care of your parents while you still have the chance. And if any of them are addicted to alcohol, try to help them break free, asap, because I don't want anyone, especially young girls, to suffer the way I did because of alcohol.

Alrighty! Enough about me!

How are you all doing? How's life? ✨