Three years. Three years since his death. You, even now, could barely function. He had been your everything. Your home, your love, your family.
And now he was gone.
Swallowing a lump within your throat, you held the very last picture that had been taken before he passed. A sniffle sounded as small, glimmering tears slid down your cheeks, your eyes shining with regret. It was your fault. Your fault that he had died. If you hadn't told him to get out of your life, he would still be here, alive and well. But you couldn't go back, it was impossible. Nobody knew how to time travel, at least, not at the current time. The scientific breakthrough hasn't been discovered.
You shook your head with a sigh. "I miss you," you whispered, your voice cracking. Setting down the picture, you turned around and began to pack your things. I'm going to run away, you though, where I will hurt no one else.
Once everything had been shoved into a small bag, you glanced at the photo and smiled a sad smile. "Goodbye, Father." And with that, you stepped from your house, never to return. Only a simple note was taped to the door.
Whoever may read this must know that I am gone. Please be sure that what I have left behind is cared for by the right people.
Many hours passed. You had been following the same trail for a long while, and your legs were sore. Your chest heaved after climbing up multiple cliffs nonstop, and with no equipment. After the caw of a bird frightened you, you decided to get some shut-eye. Rubbing your eyes, you laid in a patch of soft grass and fell asleep. When you woke up, ...
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A. A voice spoke, "Hello?"
B. The snarling of an animal sounded in your ear.
C. A small, wet surface prodded your cheek. "Are they dead?"