Not My Daddy!

I was 15. My cousin had decided to have a slumber party for her birthday. The day was September 16, 2001. That's right, just FIVE days after the attack on the Twin Towers in New York City. Before I had left the house, Daddy had asked me to stay home with him that night. However, I thought he was just aggravating me as usual. So, I refused. At the slumber party, I got sleepy all of a sudden for no reason. I laid down on my cousin's couch and closed my eyes. Almost immediately, I saw my daddy in a casket. My cousin said I jerked awake screaming, "NO!" I was then told that my mom wanted me to come home, but was not given a reason. I got ready, and got into the vehicle. Instead of taking me home, my aunt and uncle took me towards the hospital. I began to get a very sick feeling in my stomach. When I got out of the vehicle, my mom and sisters came to me. My second oldest sister took me by the hands and said, "Nick, Dad's gone." It took me a minute to realize what she meant. When I did, I collapsed to my knees, just started screaming to the top of my lungs, "Oh, dear God NO! Not my daddy! Not my best friend! Please NO!" They took me to see him, and it took everything in me to just look at him. I knew God was warning me with the dream. I knew it was a premonition. Every once in a while I have one, and it scares me just as bad now as it did that night. I don't like knowing for certain someone is going to be dead the next time I see them. What relieves me is the fact that the last words I ever spoke to Daddy was: "Bye Daddy, I Love You." How many people can say that about their loved ones?