Where's My Dad Book Novels & Stories

The room seemed to tilt. I looked at my father standing in the doorway. His face had gone completely pale. “Why?” He didn't answer. I looked down at the letter again. There was one final sentence. Your father knows where I am. I slowly raised my eyes. “Dad…” He looked at me. “You know where she is.” He said nothing. My voice broke. “You know where my mother is.” Still nothing. Then my father whispered: “I found her once.” My heart stopped. “When?”

My dad walks out, and I watch my Mum follow. I guess there is no fixing things.

When I was young, I called it the secret room and was scared to walk alone through that space, so I softly patted the door before walking in. My dad was seated opposite his desk, far engrossed in the book before him. I always wondered what he found interesting in those archeological books he read. They were difficult to grasp, and I always felt dizzy whenever I stared into them for long. I shook my head, cleared my throat to indicate my presence. “Evening, dad.” He didn't acknowledge my words and only stared into his book, like he was searching for an answer to my greetings in it. “Sit,” he ordered in his usual authoritative tone. I obliged without saying a single word. I sat opposite him on

So I realized it wasn't a dream. After leaning on the kitchen counter, thoughtful and intrigued, I wake up my son like every morning. When he sees me he smiles just for me, but there is something about him that I notice strange. “And my dad?” He asks me, getting up from the bed excited. “He's in London.” I answered him by taking his uniform out of his closet and then taking it to school. “Mom, what are we doing here?” He asks me, looking at the four walls that welcome him.

I just kept staring at them at loss of what to even say, dad quietly came forward and led me to seat on the bed. "What was wrong" he asked and I simply just pointed at the book lying at one corner of my room. As I told them about the dream I had . "I found it in my parent's stuff" I whispered and mom walked towards the book and picked it up. "What's there it's empty" she said opening the book. "No it isn't!" "Yes it is " she said walking towards me with the book. "Place your hands on it" I said and she did, I looked at the book expectantly but nothing happened.

He looked at me and I smiled back at him waving my hands, telling him to go on, like he understands it, he then continued introducing his Dad. "Uhmn, right here is my Daddy, his name is Daddy Clyde, he loves me a lot and my mommy too. Every day before I go to sleep my daddy will always read a storybook to me until I fall asleep. I am proud of my dad because he helps a lot of people with his business. That’s all, thank you." He said bowing his head before looking at his Daddy who bares a loving smile and a proud look at him. Everyone clapped their hands, Some parents smiled at me and whispered “You have a wonderful family.” Which makes me smile.

Dad asked "Yup I want to learn about it as well and since I haven't read any books about that or learned anything about it. I can take next year go to school here and learn it," I said smiling "Okay but you have a lot to learn," Dad said as he looked at the books "It's not that much," I said When we got home I went to my room with the books and started studying and my brother and dad went back to work (2372 words)

And my mom worked as a nanny to a certain family, I couldn’t remember. I quickened my pace and walked towards the direction of the book store. Not long after, I saw the small building. By this time he would be here, it was still daylight. I quickened my pace and knocked at the door but there was no answer. I pushed the door open and met a quiet book store. There were books arranged in their Alphabetical order neatly placed. I searched around and I couldn’t find my father. Where could he be? My heart felt constricted with pain, and tears were almost escaping my tear duct.

“If you don’t mind me asking… where’s… Where’s his dad?” I bite my lower lip. “Well…” He’s in London.

This is about my father. I open the first page. There are two photos of me and him. I was eight right then and we traveled to see Eiffel Tower. Another one was in Eureka Valley. The vast, blue sky was behind us. It hurts thinking about my father, when I don't know where he is. Alive or dead. Or running 'cause of The Conditorem. I found an book and some paper clips about this secret society in his study room. Those were hidden, but I was pretty good at revealing hidden stuff. I didn't know what the connection between my father and the society, hell, I still don't.