Chosen Family (Adopted By Scarlett Johansson)

Chapter 17

The car is about to go over the bridge. I know exactly what's about to happen but I can't stop it; I can't speak, can't warn them. We're almost over the bridge- almost there. A horn blares. An eighteen-wheeler slams into the car. Flying, spinning, falling through the air, crashing to the river bank below. The car finally stops rolling, landing on its crushed roof. The pain is radiating through every inch of my body. But it's nothing compared to the agony in my heart and the battle in my mind. I know they're dead; I've been through this before, I know they're dead, but I have no control over my body as I climb into the front seat and check their pulses. Dead. Both dead. I'm watching my memories unfold before my eyes like a movie. There's the familiar sight of my sister's torn thigh, losing blood faster than I can fathom. It won't stop bleeding. Just like every other time before, I drag her out of the car and hold her close to my body. But it's too late, and I know it's too late. She'll be gone before the ambulance arrives.

Except this time it's different. The ambulance doesn't come at all. My sister's eyes snap open, burning with hatred as they stare into mine. "You- you could've saved me, Y/N," she gasps out, choking on the blood pouring out of her mouth. "You could've saved all of us. But you replaced us."

"No, no, I didn't replace you, I swear. Please, don't die, please. I can't lose you again," I plead to no avail. There's no point. She coughs up one last blood clot before the light disappears from her eyes. The creaking of metal garners my attention and my head snaps up to see my parents standing beside the wrecked vehicle, facing me. I feel the overwhelming urge to throw up at the sight of my father's crushed skull and the glass piercing through my mother's chest.

"Why didn't you save us, Y/N? You killed us. You were the reason we were on the road in a snowstorm in the first place. You killed your family. And then you replaced us," my father sneers.

"You killed your sister, your father, your mother. You did this. And now you're forgetting us," my mother accuses.

"No, please! You don't understand. I didn't replace any of you, I-I didn't-"

My cries for forgiveness are drowned out by a chorus of accusations and sobs from my family. My parents walk closer as they yell, forcing me to crawl backwards away from them in fear. It's not real. It's not real. It's not rea-

"You killed us, Y/N!" my sister screams in my ear from behind me. I jump in fear.

I shot upward in bed, falling directly off the mattress and scrambling across the room to turn on the lights. I fell to the ground against my bedroom door, biting down on my fist to try and muffle my sobs.

I've always had nightmares about the accident, but not like that one. No matter how much guilt I felt, no matter how much I blamed myself, they have never blamed me. Not until now.

My chest was heaving uncontrollably as I desperately clambered to pull some air into my lungs. But I was way too far gone. I had been thrown into a blind panic, and there was no one around to show me the way out. Hot tears rolled down my cheeks, building momentum until they fell off my jaw and hit my shirt. I couldn't think, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't focus.

I jumped off the floor and booked it into my bathroom, barely making it in time before I threw up. I threw up again and again until there was nothing left, but the guilt still weighed heavy in my stomach. The room spun as I brushed my teeth, so I closed my eyes to ground myself but images of my dead family and their pure hatred quickly filled the black space. My eyes ripped open and I opted to focus on the sink instead, listening to the steady rush of water. I was scared to blink, scared to turn around, scared to look up from the sink, afraid of what I might find if I did.

I spat out the toothpaste and put my brush back, turning off the faucet. I took a deep breath and stood up straight, finally tearing my eyes away from the sink bowl. But as soon as I glanced up, my eyes spotted three figures in the mirror behind me. Their lifeless eyes were full of disgust, hatred, and betrayal. I was frozen with fear. Looking at their dead bodies, exactly the way they looked that night, I couldn't breathe. "You killed us," they whispered in unison. I whipped my body around, turning away from the mirror to look where they had been standing. There was nothing there.

I let out a shaky breath and gripped the counter behind my back a little tighter. I know I like to act tough like I don't care, but I was truly terrified. Terrified and hurt. Even if you gave me all the time in the world, I still wouldn't be able to explain the way I felt when they blamed me. Logically, I knew that they weren't my real family— that they were just torturous figments of my own imagination. But for some reason that didn't help even a tiny bit.

The waterworks began all over again and I knew I had to get out of there. I was on autopilot as I walked through the dark house. I barely even remember it. When I got to the backyard, I blinked rapidly and took a few deep breaths of the cool night air.

Not caring that I was still wearing nothing but sweatpants and a sports bra, I looked over to the low edge of the roof next to the patio. Without even stopping to think it through, I walked over to it and grabbed onto the low edge, pulling myself up onto the roof. I probably would've struggled a lot more had there not been fear-induced adrenaline pumping through my veins.

I climbed as high on the roof as I could go, then laid down on my back and stared up at the sky, wishing I could see the night stars like I used to back home in Canada. I hate cities.

It took a long time for my thoughts to calm down, but once they did, I didn't feel much better. The fog in my mind cleared, and I truly thought about what had just happened. Sure, I had a pretty bad nightmare. But that's not what I was worried about. I hallucinated. Full-blown visual and auditory hallucinations. That's not normal, no matter how I try to justify it.

I didn't move from that spot on the roof. The silent tears never stopped falling from my eyes. By the time the sun came up in the morning, I was still in that same spot, and I had picked apart the skin around each of my fingernails. A bit of blood dripped down my fingertips, but I couldn't care less. I was numb.

Somewhat snapping out of my daze, I realized that Scarlett and Lizzie would be awake soon, so I climbed down off the roof and snuck back into my room. The fear overtook me and I barricaded my bathroom door shut with my desk chair, then sat on my bedroom floor and hugged my knees tight to my chest. I couldn't even look in the direction of the bathroom. As long as nobody came into my bedroom, I wouldn't have to explain the chair because that bathroom is only accessible through my room.

The last few tears dripped down my cheeks before I went to the other bathroom to wash the tears off my face. I put on some real clothes and plastered on a fake smile. As long as I didn't close my eyes, I wouldn't have to see their bodies again. I just couldn't close my eyes.

one step forward, three steps back.