The Fall

The night started out like any other, quiet, dim, television sets on in the distance. My room weakly reverberates the house with crescendos of sound and remains enclosed to the corner of the second floor, faintly lit by a small wooden lamp that radiates from one side of the room, leaving various spots in shade and shadow. I sit on my bed with my acoustic guitar resting on my lap as my mind is off to a journey of its own. I gain consciousness from my trances here and there and play a few chords to an Iron and Wine song that seems lousier and lousier every time I attempt it. My mind is not in it today I start to think. Some days I play on for hours on in, but today I remain deep in thought, consumed with the thought of thoughts pandering away to nothingness.
As the house is engulfed in the aura of its bleak glee, an earthquake like rumble sends the place shivering with fright all around. My ability to react was translucent to the fact that I was lost within my head during the occurrence. I did not think much of it until I started to hear a slow, but exuberating sob seeping in through the crack of my doorway. As these sobs went on for another few seconds I stood up from my bed and placed my guitar carefully on its stand. I slowly crept out from the doorway of my room. I start to hover over the very top step of the carpeted staircase. A torrent of blurred thoughts comes streaming through the inside of my head. My brain is stinging from the sight. My father seems to be sprawled out on the floor, abreast to the staircase. My mother is red faced with a panic look revolving within her eyes, and my father is poised with a flabbergasted expression plastered upon his pale face.
Unknown to what has happened I am frozen in my position lingering, and incapable of action. I overlook to a prior and younger life where my father is towering robust figure fortified by brawn and muscle. As he walks in and out in front of me I can not help but wonder if he is truly invulnerable danger and weakness. He goes about his mornings on the weekends gathering large blocks of wood and materials assembling impeccable pieces of cabinetry and shelves. I look on from the inside of our den as I play with my toys and observe the unfathomable weights my indestructible father chucks around like air filled volley balls. I always wondered then if I would ever be capable of amounting to his great size and strength (the answer is still truthfully unknown).
I grasp hold of my reality and rush over to my room to call emergency services. I have no idea about what to say other than, my giant father has fallen, and can anyone help? As the ambulance comes in a short amount of time no one talks for the period of time that passes by in between. I have nothing to say, and my mother just has a feverishly concerned look about her as she combs her fingers across my father’s forehead. Mystified to the incident my father is taken away on a small stretcher that is unfitting to the size of his body. As the doors of the ambulance close with him awkwardly looking about in the distance towards my direction. He suffered a cerebral stroke that night, and the chord I was looking for all night finally struck.