The One Who Lived

Chapter Three

The gossip of the 'millionth breakdown of Ada Pearson' was quick to spread the day that it happened.

Hawkins was also quick to call me and freak out about how I 'always choose Ander' and 'let him save me again when Hawkins cares more about me than he does' and 'blah, blah, blah.'

Okay, maybe he didn't say 'blah, blah, blah' – but still.

It has been an entire week since the breakdown, and Hawkins was adamant about 'needing space from me,' but that 'space' didn't last too long. I mean, he kind of only broke his ignoring of me because I begged him to – I pulled the dead sister card...a terrible card to pull, but I had to! – but at least he broke it.

I stare at my mother who is still wearing her pajamas from the past few days. "Do you need anything?" I ask the shell of my mother as she stares into oblivion.

I want to scream at her. I want to scream that she isn't the only broken one, and that Anni isn't just going to show up through the spot in the wall that she keeps staring at. I want to yell at my dad to stop staring at the TV because Anni isn't going to appear out of it.

I want to hate them, but I can't.

I want to be angry at them, but I can't.

I can't imagine losing my daughter, and then just having to try to be okay afterwards. I can't say that I wouldn't be giving up in the same way that they have been — god, I wish that I could just give up. I wish I could just stare into nothing and forget my pain and what happened. I wish I could do that to survive, but I can't. I can't because Anni begged me not to.

God dammit, Ann. Why did you ask that of me? Why do I have to be the only one trying to be okay?

"Anni." My mom whispers making me look down as my eyes burn with that all too familiar sign of tears.

"Me too, Momma. Me too." I whisper unable to look up at her again because I know she will either still be staring or she will be crying, and I don't know which one is worse.

"Lyds?" My father's voice whispers as he appears at her side. "Why don't you go back to bed? I will come get you when dinner is ready." He lies because it is already nighttime and we just ate dinner, but she doesn't know what time or even what day it is.

She nods, stumbling back to her room like she is drunk, but I know she is not. I know that she is simply drowning in her own grief instead of the bottle that I have been turning to.

I never drank before Anni, and I never thought I would after Anni. Yet, there I am every night at Clinton's house drowning myself if whatever bottle that he put my name on that night.

I look back at my dad as he runs his hands through his hair – hair that he gave me while my mother gave Anni hers. His once all brown hair has grey coming though, his eyes are surrounded by bags, and he looks like he has lost weight that he never needed to.

I grab his hand. "It is going to be okay." I tell a lie that I don't come close to actually believing.

My dad smiles, weakly as he squeezes my hand. "I don't know what I would do without you, kiddo. You are stronger than the both of us put together." He says making me nod even though I know my strength is all a lie.

I know that below the exterior and fake face I show them that I am falling apart. My strength isn't strength because all I feel is weak. All I feel is so completely broken and hollow that I don't even know what to do with myself at this point.

I know that I have to start moving on — I get it — but I can't. I don't understand how people can just move on after losing someone. I don't want to live a life without Anni mainly because I feel like she is coming back, but she hasn't done that yet. She hasn't come back, and the further and further we get away from her death, the more I realize that this might be real, and if this is my real then I don't know if I will ever be okay again.