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June 24, 2011

“Daddy!”

I continued to stare in disbelief at the limp figure in front of me.

“Dad!” I whimpered as someone quickly shielded my eyes from the horrific scene before me. It didn’t help though. I could still see it, the image of my dead father was burned into me.

I remember that day, as clear as if it were yesterday. It was five years ago. . . I was only fifteen. My dad had died from several crushed organs and bones, caused by a cave-in.

He’s a treasure hunter, or well was. He wasn’t like a pirate, though. Instead of looking for gold and silver, he was in search of artifacts. As outrageous as it seemed, it payed pretty well. He was a legend in his biz, known for his perseverance and passion.

However, I always thought he had a little too much passion. As a kid, I was lucky to at least see him once or twice a month. But when my mom left when I was nine, I was lucky to see him at all. He was too dedicated, and it cost him his life.

No, the real thing to blame is that book, that darn thing might as well have been cursed. His latest “mission” was to find some old Egyptian book. He never really told me what kind of book it was, I never really asked. But it must have been important because not only did he give four years of his time, but it also gave his life for it.

And it hurts me to know that he never found it. The cave that collapsed on top of him and killed him, they searched it, and no book was found. I really hoped it was in there, so I could take it and burn it. That book caused me nothing but trouble. It took my father and any chance of me ever being happy again away.

This is why, I have to do this. This is why I’m going to pick up where my father left off. I’m going to search every nook and cranny of this earth, so I can find it and destroy it the way it destroyed my heart.

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