‘Goodbye’ by Isobella Nicholson, Age 14, Year 9, The Weald Community School

That was when it hit me. He was never coming back.


“Darling, your father wants to speak to you!” My mother shouted from downstairs.

“Coming!” I shouted back. She always gets frustrated when I call from the top of the stairs, but she did it first! I sprinted downstairs, making as much noise as possible – only to irritate her!

“What have I told you about running down the stairs, Jenny?” She huffed, rolling her eyes.

“I know! Anyways, what did you want to tell me, Dad?” I asked, trying not to sound worried.

Dad looked miserable “I am leaving to go to war next week, I don’t have a choice.”

I looked from dad to my mother, their faces said it all. I could feel water welling up under my eyes. I could taste the saltwater dripping down my face. I didn’t know what to do.

“Are you going to say anything?” My mother asked, trying to be sympathetic but it only made me feel worse. I ran past my dad trying to hide my tears. I slammed my door and collapsed onto my bed. I knew it wasn’t his fault, but I couldn’t help the feeling of resentment towards him. He was leaving us. He can’t go, and why is he telling me now?


I woke up the next morning, my eyes all red and puffy. I must’ve cried myself to sleep. I still couldn’t believe he was going to do this to me. What had I ever done to make him leave?


Mother came upstairs and gently tapped on my door.

“May I come in?” She, asked, her voice was very polite, the opposite of Dad’s. They are a very unlikely couple, one posh; the other not so.  She came in without even waiting for an answer!

“What happened last night?!” My Mother questioned.

“Oh, I don’t really want to talk about it. I can’t really accept the fact that he’s leaving.”

“Darling, He doesn’t get a choice!”

“Yes, I know that. But it still feels like a betrayal.” I said turning away from her, trying to signal for her to go away.

“Ok, I guess I’ll leave you to it, I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.” she sang in her sweet motherly tone.


The next few days were tough, I never said a word to my dad; I didn’t think I would ever be able to get over this border I had unintentionally put up for myself. I never thought of myself as having a fear of letting go, but it was really starting to make itself shown.


It finally came to dad’s last morning at home, I had to get over this – I was being stupid! I ran into my parents’ room and threw myself into my dad’s arms. He was about to leave so
I helped him pack all his things in the car. He got in mournfully, looking back he gave me a heartbreaking smile. That’s when it hit me, he was never coming back.