What Don't Kill you Makes you Stronger
...as already Downtown. It took about twenty minutes for the bus to finally arrive to pick us up. We stood there in complete silence and still I didn’t know why. Papa lit a cigarette and begun to hum. He was starting to reek of smoke. I though since Papa was humming I could break the silence “Papa have you ever been to the Sears Tower”? I asked nervously. Papa looked down at me and shook his head, still no words just expressions, now I was really confused. Papa put the cigarette out and helped me onto the bus and then paid his fair. I sat in a individual seat but right next to Papa and tried to figure why my best friend was acting so strange. I couldn’t really stay focused because I was looking at how pretty Chicago look when it’s layered with snow. Buildings, cars, house and the streets were colored white. It was kind of funny to me because before I saw beauty I saw vandalism. The window I was looking through had such graffiti, that I was thought not to do. I never been Down Town before so I was very excited but thoughts about Papa mad me sad. So I was like a small child in the toy store who wants two toys but can only get ones and is so confused she starts to cry. I started to cry again. Papa looked down then looked up and shook his head again. It took about 10 minutes to get Down Town. Through the vague window I began to see lights and tall buildings, and I knew I was downtown. I wiped my tears and excitedly pull the string to say stop on the bus. I saw Papa even smile, I think he was because I was so happy, but it was good to see Papa smile. The glove grabbed my hand again and I felt warm all over. I felt like a little girl at the beach seeing the ocean for the first time. So here we were standing in the middle of Down Town of Chicago! I started to feel strange because Papa was starting to act strange again. I looked toward Lake Michigan and looked back at Papa he was crying, but it was a scared cry like he had something to tell me. I think I asked the dumbest question “Papa don’t you love me any more?” I know the question was out of the sky, but I was five and I did feel like Papa didn’t like me as much. The answer to the question was unexpected, but I knew the question would bring some type of conversation. I was right. Papa was crying again, this was an emotional day for both of us and I don’t know why but I’m sure was about to find out. Papa kneeled down slowly, bending the heel of his fury boot and whispered something in my ear that’s has changed my life dramatically. “What don’t kill you makes you stronger”. As Papa was whispering his tears was flowing like Lake Michigan was doing as he knelt, so of course I started to cry also. So here we are standing by the bus stop crying each other’s shoulder. I was only five years old so that’s saying just confused me again, now it’s like which outfit I had to put on my new toy that I picked out of the toy store. “Papa what do you mean”? I asked frantically as I wiped my nose on my pink coat. “I’m dying of cancer” he said as he stood. Now me and Papa can talk all day about anything and he would talk to me like an adult, but this time I was quite. All you could here was the fast watering tear hitting my coat, well the ones that didn’t freeze my face. It was cold again. I cried for answers, I cried in disbelief, Papa could tell from how I was crying I needed to know: who, what, when, where, and why. Papa picked me up, kissed my forehead, and grand my hand. I was warming up again. We made our way to the Sears Tower. The Sears Tower had all type of people viewing it, all kinds of races, black whites, and Asians. People were taking pictures and were videotaping this huge building. The building was very tall when you look up toward the building it looks like it’s going to fall on you. It sight was truly amazing but I couldn’t enjoys it as much as I wanted to because of papa just told me. We stayed downtown for about 40 minutes because my nose started to run and my grandfather didn’t want me to catch a cold so we decided to leave. It seems as though my grandfather was well prepared for this. He talked in a slow confident manner. I still couldn’t accept it; I didn’t want to accept it. “Papa what will I do when you leave me, who will be my best friend then?” I asked. “Esha I am not going ...