Authors Note: In class, we were focusing on point of view. Please notice in my piece how it goes from 2nd person to 1st person. This piece is very close to my heart, because this is in honor of Father Jim (my uncle). Also note that this isn’t true and it is fiction, this is just in honor of my uncle who is recently passed.
Looking out the window of the car, watching the trees go by. Your family is heading to grandma and papa’s house for a week, that one time of year where there is no stress and all’s good. The excitement you get when you’re 10 minutes away from the house and you know that it’s the best time of the year. Mom and dad are always telling you to be cautious what you do, knowing you are the troublemaker, the button pusher, the persistent child. Grandma would let you get away with everything, you knew that she would give in and help you do what you want. You would make a mess- grandma would clean it, you would rip pages out of books- grandma would tape them back in, you would dig up flowers- grandma would plant them again. Understanding the concept of don’t do this, don’t do that, what quite hard for you. Pushing the limits was your thing.Nothing ever went wrong at grandma and papa’s house, it was the best time of the year!
As a kid, you never really understood how easy your life was: it was a go-with-the-flow lifestyle. Your sisters and brother would do the same, because you are the oldest: monkey see, monkey do. You never quite get how things happened, you never took the blame, you never saw how easy it is for something to go wrong in the blink of an eye. But then you realize: you did that, you need to take the blame, you realized how fast it happened, you set your papa on fire. You realize how sorry you are and you let the words “It’s your fault,” sink in. Knowing what happened, you can’t take it back. I am Jovana Gurler, I am sixteen and I set my papa on fire when I was eight.
It all started when I was in the kitchen with grandma, where we were baking. Grandma was teaching me how to cook an apple pie, while my three younger siblings were making crafts with papa. Apparently they were making clay statues of their favorite animals, but I didn’t care because I was baking. Papa happened to walk by to get a soda while grandma had me peeling the apples, while she was making the sauce for the apples to marinate in. At grandma’s house, we always know that she has a candle lit; I then decided to play with it. Blowing out candles was always so fun for me because it makes me feel like it’s my birthday. The flame was jiggling back and forth, side to side, it made me giggle- grandma scolded me. She told me not to play with it before someone got hurt, so I stopped and then started working on the curst for the pie. Using a fork to press the edges down was so much fun, all of a sudden I realized grandma walked out of the room. I started to play with the candle flame again, until I realized grandma came back from the bathroom. Then we started to piece the pie together.
I told grandma that I was going to the bathroom, when really, I took the candle and placed it near the chair papa usually sat in and read his newspaper. When I came back, grandma had the pie all ready for the oven, except one thing- she told me to poke holes in the top of the pie so that it doesn’t explode in the oven. All of a sudden we heard a scream and smelt smoke. We had no idea what was going on. My family ran into the living room and saw papa on fire! There was nothing I could do but cry, my siblings were screaming and crying up against my parents. Mom was screaming “daaaad,”and I went and got a cup of water. Pouring the water on papa was working, but not fast enough, he was shriveling. The sight of blood gushing everywhere and bones poking out of skin was creeping me out. Dad ran to the phone and called 9-1-1, they were here within seconds. Papa’s face expression was in horror, he was being burnt alive. When the firemen, police, and EMT’s arrived, it was too late, he was gone. The police were trying to figure out how this happened, meanwhile the firemen were cleaning up the mess. All that was left of papa, was his ashes in the frame of his recliner. One firemen had found the glass candle that was under the pile of wood. Luckily the house was still standing, just the carpet, and chair was gone, but also papa too.
Investigating what exactly happened was a mystery for everyone....except me. I know that it was my fault and I couldn’t let that sink into my head, it was hard for me to know that. Not telling anyone was hard for me because I didn’t want to go to jail, let alone prison for life. Keeping a secret isn’t a good thing- I know it was the candle that started the recliner on fire. Police were searching the living room from top to bottom to try to figure out why the candle was lit there are why it was on the ground. Meanwhile, grandma pulled the finished apple pie from the oven before that caused a ruckus. When grandma was in the kitchen, I overheard he crying to herself, I knew she was upset. While she was slicing the pie, she realized that the candle was gone: I knew I was in horrid trouble.
The police left and we sat down and had dinner. Our souls were grieving and my family couldn’t even eat, we were devastated. Thoughts ran through out my mind, in through one ear, and out the other. I just couldn’t believe what happened. Later on through the night, grandma got lots of calls from neighbors wondering what happened and if we were okay. Thinking that papa was up in heaven was a good thought, but knowing that I took his life, isn’t. That’s when I decided I had to do something.
Getting ready for bed was a quick transition, I wanted to have time to pray to papa before I got too tired. I remember whispering to myself, “What I have I done? This is all my fault.” Then I started to pray “Dear papa, I know that you are in heaven right now, looking over us. I am truly sorry that I set you on fire. It must have been painful, and I shouldn’t have lied to grandma about going to the bathroom. I don’t know what to do, please help me. Should I tell or should I keep a secret. I know I am a trouble maker, but please help me. I love you dearly, and I hope you aren’t mad at me. Love you!” When I was done praying, mama came into my room and kissed me goodnight. She told me everything was going to be okay and papa would be in our souls everywhere we go. I knew she was right, but I still had no idea what to do.
The morning I got up, I headed to grandma’s kitchen to grab an apple. When I got to the kitchen, I didn’t realize this funny looking man in a suite. Apparently, he was the lawyer. Mom motioned me to go away, so I did. I quickly grabbed an apple and headed to the living room. Walking into the living room was harsh for me, my heart started beating loud and couldn’t stop. Everything was cleaned up and the recliner was gone. Leaning against the wall, turned into sliding down it, until I turned into a tiny ball. All I did was cry.
To this day, I still have memories of what happened, but this is what I remember the most.
When I was curled up into the ball, I happened to look up and saw the the living room was glowing. It was beautiful. Then out of nowhere, I saw thing yellow-golden ring on the ceiling, it looked like it was on fire. Right then and there, papa had appeared out of nowhere. I started talking to him, and he replied. Not through his mouth, but through my soul. It was the most precious thing ever to me. Tears ran down my face and I had no words but ,“ I am sorry.” Papa replied through my heart again. He told me this, “My dear Jovana, I know that you are sorry, and I know you didn’t mean it. I got your prayer last night, and I just came down to kiss you and say one thing. I know you are a troublemaker, and that’s just your personality. It’s okay for you to confess to mama and dad, they will understand. If you tell them, I promise they won’t yell at you and you won’t go to jail, trust me- I can see the future.” Then he left. I didn’t even get to respond. All I remember is the yellow-golden ring went away and poof he was gone. In my head, I said, “I love you,” and he responded in my heart, “ I love you too!”
When I realized what had just happened, I ran into the kitchen. My mouth ran 100 MPH and mom, dad, and grandma could barely make out what I said. They told me to repeat and I did. Their faces had a sigh of relief and I couldn’t read what they were thinking. I cried. Mom quickly picked me up and snuggled with me. Then, I knew they weren’t mad.
The next day, we packed up and headed back home. When we got home, life was back to normal and every night I prayed to papa. He always answered. That’s when I realized that telling the truth was important, and I definitely got my signal from papa that he was safe in heaven.
Now that I am sixteen, I understand more why he came down to talk to me. I was eight and I didn’t know that to do. Even though I am still terribly upset at myself, I know that papa loves me no matter what and he always will. Someday, when my time has come, I will rise the heavens and run to papa and thank him for his help. There are no word to describe how much I love him and always will. My family still grieves to this day, and we have pray every night to him. Also..... no one knows about how papa came to talk to me. He told me that, that was between me and him. Papa is my favorite, and will always be.
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