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I’ve been asleep. Not completely gone. Not yet anyway. I don’t know if I’m going to wake up. But to be honest, I don’t know if I want to. If I were to wake up, I’d be stuck with my family again. I don’t know what I did wrong that forced the universe to put me in this family. I’ve been fairly independent my whole life, but my parents always seemed to judge any of my independent choices and I always feel obligated to do things based on them just for the sake of avoiding their judgement. 

On the other hand, my little brother, Bennett, didn’t necessarily judge me, which I appreciate, but he always makes jokes about me. Trying to be a nice sister, I would laugh along with him but inside, he always left me feeling worse.

For example, he would be playing a game with friends and something would happen and he would say, “Well that was pointless.” That would seem like the end of the statement until he turns to me and continues with a laugh, “JUST LIKE YOU!” I laugh but his words hurt. 

It’s even worse when Bennett does something similar but at a completely random moment. Once he walked in my room and simply asked, “How does it feel to have a meaningless life?” and then just walked out. It was so sudden and it hurt worse because I don’t know what prompted him to say that. 

I try to love them but they make it so hard. Being asleep just makes things easier.

Unfortunately for me, I suddenly feel different and everything is moving faster. A bright light is ahead of me until I am surrounded entirely. 

“She’s waking up!” exclaims a female voice

There is a loud thud followed by many softer thuds.

And then, my eyes open. Squinting at the brightness of the room, I groan in discomfort.

I hear a different female voice ask, “It’s okay. Breathe. Everything is ok. What do you remember?”

“What is going on?” I respond. 

“Do you not remember the car crash?”

The crash. All of the sudden it comes flooding back to me. My family was driving home after going to lunch where I sat uncomfortably for an hour while they all talked and forced me to answer questions about how things were going with my new job. After years of judgemental looks, eye rolls, exasperated sighs, and living with them trying to fix things instead of just listening to me, I really despise telling them about my life. It makes me feel vulnerable and violated. We were almost home when another car ran a red light and smashed right into us.

Then I ask a question I would soon regret asking, “Where are my parents and Bennett?”

I see her facial expression and immediately recognize it. The pity look. The look someone gets when they just told their best friend they just got dumped by their boyfriend. The visual representation of a lady trying to sympathize with a sad girl and saying, “Oh honey”. A look that is like a mix of pity and understanding even though they don’t truly understand at all. That look only confirms the worst.

All she says is, “I’m sorry.”

My family is gone. They didn’t make it. I am the only survivor.

My eyes begin to tear up and my heart rate rises. But the tears only really start to pour when I remember the worst part. The last words I ever said to them.

We were in the car waiting for the light to turn green when my mom asked, “So what happened to that guy? The funny one who is super sweet to Bennett?”

I plainly replied, “Nothing happened. He asked me out and I turned him down. We still talk sometimes but now he’s happy with another girl.”

“Why? He was so nice! How come you didn’t say yes when he asked you out? That’s actually a bit rude to turn down a sweet boy like that”, she responds without missing a beat.

That’s when I lost it.

“Because he was my friend and that’s how I wanted it to stay! It’s really none of your business anyway! No it wasn’t rude of me to turn him down. What really would have been rude is if I said yes and led him on when nothing was going to happen! Please just stop trying to tell me how to live my life! All any of you do is make me feel worse.” 

I turn to Bennett and continue, “I know you think your jokes about me are so funny but they’re really not. Your words hurt me and all of you really need to stop!”

The light turns green and the car starts moving forward again.

Almost in tears, I finish, “WHY CAN'T YOU PLEASE JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!”

My sentence immediately followed by a large crash, the world turning upside down, and darkness.

The tears roll. My last words to them were hypocritical and filled with anger about how their words hurt. My crying barely makes a sound as the silent tears pour down my face. The hospital room is filled with nothing but the sound of an occasional sniffle from my running nose and the steady beep of the heart monitor.

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After a few days, I was allowed to go home to pack up my things. I was old enough to live on my own and had a job that paid just enough for me to afford it.

The front door creaks as I open it and walk inside. I didn’t really mind having to move into a smaller place for myself, in fact, it’s something I wanted but I was worried about what my parents would say about me moving out when it’s easier for me to stay at home. The truth is, it was never a home for me. Just a house with people I was related to. Now, I’m on my own. I walk through the small house to my room. I don’t really have much here to move out. So instead I sit down on my bed and breathe.

Tears come back when I see it. A picture of my whole family smiling and laughing in a pool.

I remember when we went to the neighborhood pool a few years ago to go swimming but it started raining. It wasn’t raining very hard but my mom figured we should head home. 

However, my dad thought a bit differently. Me and Bennett were sad that we had only been there for a little bit and already had to go home. My dad took one look at us getting out of the pool and gave a small smile, then bolted straight towards us.

“CANNONBALL!” he yelled as he jumped over our heads and into the pool with a huge splash.

Me and Bennett smiled and started laughing and the three of us held hands while he spun us around singing, “SWIMMING IN THE RAIN! WE’RE SWIMMING IN THE RAIN! WHAT A GLORIOUS FEELING! I’M HAPPY AGAIN!” at the top of his lungs. My mom stood under the covered tables and laughed until she eventually crawled back in the pool with us and joined us in our circle we made. 

My dad then jumped out of the pool and grabbed his phone. Once he got back to us he held it out and announced “SILLY FACES!” and took a selfie of the four of us, with Bennett’s tongue sticking out, of us laughing and smiling and goofing off in the pool while it rained.

We all look so happy in that picture. Moments when we were all that happy with each other were rare, but I didn’t realize how much I treasured those memories until now. 

My eyes flood and I don’t try to stop it. I lay down on my bed and hold the picture to my chest and cry. I cry for all those moments that are gone. I cry for happy times that we won’t have a chance to have. I even cry for all the times when we got mad at each other but always figured it out.

In our family, no matter how mad we got at each other, we solved the problem and apologized and forgave. We always had a family hug at the end when Dad would usually end up picking us all up and throwing us on the couch. We’d laugh at each other and what really made it great is that we knew we were still a family. No matter what.

But now that’s gone. I got what I asked for. I’m completely alone. And I hate it. Why did I have to say those things to them? Why did they have to die? Why did my wish have to come true? 

I cry for what feels like hours until it feels like I am completely dried up with no tears left. Exhausted, I feel my eyes start to droop as I fall asleep with the picture still in my hand.

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I hear a steady beep. There are muffled sounds but I can’t tell what they are. All of the sudden the beeping sound speeds up. The muffled sounds get louder. They’re voices. 

A familiar male voice shouts, “Call a doctor!”

“Something is wrong! Please help her! Will she be okay?” asks a concerned female voice.

I hear soft thuds as an unfamiliar voice jumps in, “Ma’am her heart rate is rising very rapidly, please step back.”

Was it all a dream? Is my family alive? 

I hear a small, male voice ask between sniffles, “Mom? Is she going to be ok?”

The female voice from earlier responds with what can only be assumed to be the pity look, “Honey, I don’t know.”

A light illuminates my vision and I squint at the sudden brightness.

The unfamiliar voice speaks again, “She’s awake. The car accident was minor but she did hit her head pretty hard so give her a moment before trying to talk too much.”

I blink many times before fully opening my eyes. My eyes adjust and I can finally make out the people in front of me. Hovering over my hospital bed is my family. They’re okay. They’re alive.

My mom opens her mouth to start speaking but before anything comes out I already have my arms around her. After a moment for her to process my sudden movement she hugs me back just as tightly.

Then, between sobs, I stutter out the very words that confirmed the worst during my dream, “I’m sorry.”

She pulls away and smiles, “It’s okay. We forgive you. We’re just happy you’re awake and alive.”

I turn to my dad and hug him and he almost suffocates me in his arms.

I hear a small voice speak up again, but this time it’s not small, “YOU’RE NOT DEAD!”

I laugh as Bennett pushes past my dad and practically jumps on me to hug me. 

I start crying again. But this time they are happy tears. I get to go home with my family. Together. I’m not alone. I can go home. I’m not just going to a house with people I’m related to. I am really going home.