When I was a kid, my dad went out for a ride on his motorcycle. When he wasn't home by 9 p.m., I just couldn't sleep. I watched movies all night, lying in bed with my mother. Around 1 or 2 a.m. she gets a call and leaves, giving me very little information but saying that dad had been in an accident and she had to drive to the hospital. After that, I finally fell asleep.
What woke me up were the sounds of my mother sobbing and the voices of my aunt and uncle in the living room. I left my mom's bed and went to that room to see what was up and I honestly can't even remember if anyone actually told me. I already knew he was dead but the confirmation was still rough.