“Dad can you get out?!” I yelled over to my father who was being a gadfly at my bedroom door waiting for me to pull myself out of bed, and get ready for the day.
“Okay fine, I’m going to work Danielle.  Please don’t get in any trouble while I’m gone.”  I’m almost positive is what my father replied to me.  Trust me, if I would have known those were going to be the last words my father said to me in person, I definitely would have listened a lot better.
This is how it all happened, it was the first day in December, and my father had just left for his job at the biggest government center in the U.S.  I was sitting at my black and white desk in the corner of the room sipping a hot cup of chamomile tea, doing what every 17-year-old was doing, procrastinating.  I was supposed to be working on my paper for my AP history class, but all I could think about was the first snow, which was coming into action right outside my window.  It was beautiful, the snowflakes were the biggest and more white than I had ever seen.  My house was way too big for just me and my dad, but it didn’t used to be just us; my older brother started getting into trouble when he got into high school, he ended up in jail, and later took his own life.  My mother, well she isn’t exactly in the picture, considering she left when I was three years’ old.  This is the only life I’ve ever known.  So after a while of perfecting my procrastination skills, I decided I just needed to close my window blinds and focus on my paper.  The assignment was simple, we could write about anything that we wanted, and there were only four requirements. 
1. It must be five pages in length
2. It must be double spaced with 12-point font
3. The topic must be picked upon something that we had covered in class
4. You must show your passion for this subject, you can’t simply just teach it
History was my favorite subject, so the passion part was no problem for me.  I was constantly talking about it, world history, U.S. history, politics, even mythology; you name it, I can tell you anything you want to know about it. 
So I set out on a mission to write this paper on Genghis Khan, and the Mongol Empire.  I know it’s the 21st century and everything, but for some odd reason my father refused to get internet in the house.  He didn’t think we needed it because we had iPhones, but I thought differently.  Now I was being compelled to go to the library to do all of my papers, and assignments.  Before I left I ran down stairs to let my springer spaniel, Duke, in from the snowy outside.  He was very reluctant because this kind of weather was his absolute favorite.  Once I finally got him inside I brought him to his bedroom, and fed and watered him.  Then I went to the bathroom to put my make up on and change my clothes.  For some reason, I remember exactly what I was wearing: black fleece lined leggings that I had purchased on Black Friday, a turtle neck with a puffy North Face vest, and my brown and navy duck boots that I was surprised with for Christmas in 2015.  For my make-up, I had on a light coat of Luxe liquid foundation in the shade tahini, I used the Naked 2 pallet, and created my usual eyeshadow look, and the lights, camera, lashes mascara from the tarte brand. 
Once I was finally done with my makeup, which took me much longer than it probably should have.  I went the kitchen which was on the third floor, and made myself a delicious egg, and avocado bagel for breakfast along with a kale, and mango, pineapple smoothie.  I also packed a lunch because I knew I would be at the library all day.  For this I made my famous chicken Cesar salad, with half a grapefruit, and an iced peach tea; and wrote a quick note to my father that said “Going to the library to work on my history paper, be back late.  Love you, text me if you need anything.”  My father was a very protective man.  He always wanted to know where I was, and what I was doing.  Part of me believes it’s because he doesn’t want me to go off the deep end like my brother did, and the other part makes me think that he knows I’ve been trying to find my birth mother.  He seems to have this idea etched into his mind that going to find her will put in some sort of danger.  I think it’s kind of ridiculous that the only thing I know about her is that her name is Macey Michelson.  
I skipped to the front door, and put a jacket on and got in my Jeep Rubicon.  I blasted the heat, and the radio with my favorite song, Let It Go by James Bay.  The library was on the north end of main street, about nine minutes from my house.  The snow was just beautiful while I was driving, and I knew that if my father was with me he would be yelling “Get your eyes on the road and stop looking at that darn snow, it will be there for months.”  I decided to ignore my subconscious and continue to enjoy the down fall of the beautiful snow falling from the peaks of the sky. 
As I drove through the south end of town, I saw my all-time favorite little shop.  It was a small café right on the corner of main street and oak street, called “The Delight”.  It was the only place that seemed to make my coffee just the way I liked it.  I decided to stop there in honor of the first snow, and get a coffee for the road.  “Do you want the usual Danielle?”  the kind lady at the counter asked me.  I felt bad because I could never seem to remember her name. 
“Yes that would be absolutely perfect.  Thank you!”  I stated with excitement that I could finally enjoy a steaming hot cup of coffee in the winter.  I was only about five minutes away from the library when my father called me. 
“Danielle where are you?” he sounded worried, and it started to rub off on me. 
“I’m fine dad, I’m just passing the drug store on my way to the library.” I was trying to assure him of my safely, but he wasn’t seeming to let up. 
“I told you not to drive on the roads today, they haven’t even began plowing them yet.”
“I fine--” I tried to say but my father interrupted
  “Danielle why can’t you just listen to me, go to The Delight and wait there for me to pick you up.  I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“No I’m going to the library to work on my--” Then it hit me.  A red Ford truck came from out of know where, running the red light at the intersection, and hitting my car on the passenger side door.  Everything went blurry, sound was drowning out.  All I could hear was my father yelling on the phone, yet I couldn’t make out anything that he was saying.  My precious white Jeep was skidding across the intersection on the roads thick with ice.  All I could think in my head was, “God please help me.”  Then I blacked out. 
When I woke I could tell that my heart beat was faint, and my whole body hurt from head to toe.  I wasn’t even sure what happened until one of the doctors came up to me and said, “You were in a car accident, a driver hit you in an intersection, and you rolled out and hit a light post.” I was terrified, but all I could think about was my father.
“Where’s my dad?”  I whispered, barley getting the words out of my mouth. 
“We will find your father, but at the moment were more worried about saving your life.  For now, please don’t talk otherwise it might put you at risk of rupturing your lungs.”  Then it hit me again, I wasn’t going to make it out of this, I was dying, and I was helpless.  You constantly hear about this kind of thing happening to other people, on the news, and sometimes it may even happen to someone you know, but you never think that it is ever a possibility of it happening to you. 
It was hard for me to think with all of the screaming and clanking of medical equipment.  I felt exhausted and just wanted to close my eyes and go to sleep, but they kept telling me “you have to stay awake.  Keep your eyes open.”  I felt so helpless, but I knew I had to fight.  I had to fight for my father because without me he had nobody else.  I started to hear them scream “Her pulse is dropping, push one of epi…CLEAR!”  And a pulse of energy rushed through my body, but only for a second, and then I was back to being a helpless nothing lying on the table.  I tried to turn my head to see who was standing at the door, but there was something holding my neck in place, so I looked over with only my eyes at the door, and saw my father who had just reached the entrance.  I tried to mouth the words, “I love you” but it didn’t quite get out.  Suddenly my father started fading into my brother, and then it hit me… my pulse was gone.