This is for a novel I’m writing; however I’m not sure if I’m going to use it because I don’t know if I’m actually going to kill off this character or not. I thought that I would share it, as I’m also debating shelving the novel altogether. I’ve hit a spot in it where I don’t know what else to write, or where else to go. But, enjoy this excerpt!

My father prevented me from speaking at my mother’s funeral. I’m sure many of you remember why. In the years since my mother’s death, my father became a different person. It was like hr told me once: A part of him had jumped off that balcony with my mother. Very likely the best part of him.

But what I missed the most were his eyes. My father had beautiful, bright, green eyes: Emeralds like the isle he loved so much. Through the strife and laughter that was my childhood, those eyes were a beacon. They led our family through the fog as well as the bright, sunny days. He was a rock battered by many storms who crumbled after the storm had passed.

I loved my father. I love my father. Goodbye, Daddy.

What do you think? Should I shelve this thing?