The One Who Lived

Chapter Eleven

Before Anni died, my house was always super loud and active.

It was full of Anni and her friends who were always laughing, doing their makeup, listening to music and whatever else they could do to make noise. It used to drive me absolutely crazy, and we would fight over it, but now I wish I had loved it and those moments.

It is just that I never realized the silence that I once craved would eventually turn into the thing drowning me, because the silence that we now have literally makes my ears bleed. Sure, my mom has finally stopped taking her sleeping pills so I hear her around, and my dad has finally stopped staring at the TV, but those changes don't equal any noise.

The noise once created by the TV has ended now that my dad is back at work. The silence of my mom sleeping has gotten even quieter now that she is also going back to work. 

I was extremely shocked a few weeks ago when my mom and dad came out of their room in their work clothes, and I still feel the shock when I see them doing it day after day. While I am happy that they are moving on and doing okay, it makes me hate myself for not being able to. It makes me wonder how I am the one who is still really fucked up, and how my parents can move on, but I can't.

My mother looks at me, wringing her hands as she does every morning. "We're going to work." I nod in response because I don't really know what to say back.

'Have a good day' is not right because having good days with Anni being gone are just not possible.

'Good luck with that' sounds either sarcastic or like I am doubting her.

'Please don't go' is not an option either because I am happy to see her out of her pajamas, out of her bed and not staring at that stupid wall.

"Do you need anything before we go?" My dad butts in when I don't respond.

I shake my head. "I'm okay." I say my first sentences to them since our fight all those days ago — or maybe weeks ago. I don't really know anymore.

It is weird how time flies when you don't really care about it.

I know that it has been almost five months, but I swear she died a few days ago. I think I fought with my parents a few days ago, but it also could have been weeks.

Time just doesn't make sense anymore because it almost doesn't matter since Anni doesn't get any more of it.

I walk over to our TV and immediately realize why my dad spends so much time here — the disk in the video player is all Anni. I press play and watch her take her first steps. I watch her say Mama and Dada for the first time, but the videos that get me the most are the ones of us.

In the first one, Anni is almost two and holding me in the hospital while I am wrapped in the blanket, that I still have, with my name all over it. My dad is zooming in on her and he asks if she is going to protect me forever, she bobs her little head and says one sentences. "Adie, mine."

I haven't heard her call me Adie in forever.

The video pans to my mom and she has tears in her eyes while looking so beautifully exhausted. "We did it right, babe. You can just tell. They are going to be best friends and sisters for life." My mom says making me crawl closer to the TV so that I can be closer to them.

I hear my dad laugh and sniffle a little before panning back over to me and Anni. Anni has her chubby hands wrapped around me while she pets my face like I am a dog.

I laugh through my tears as I touch her tiny face on the TV screen. "Why did you have to go?" I ask like she is going to answer me through the TV.

The next video is Anni on her first day of school in front of that wall in our kitchen. Anni is crying about something while dressed in all denim as my mom tries to keep her still. I can't hear what my mom is yelling at her, but I quickly show up in the frame next to Anni while still in my pajamas.