Nothing Left to Live For

Prologue

Ive always disliked funerals. It seems sad to go and mourn somebody who you know is dead forever and just remember everything about them. I've been to too many in a lifetime- my parents and most of my other family- But what's there to remember about me? Who would go and cry over me? My name is Zoe Baerd, and I have nothing left to live for.
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I remember walking over to the open casket in what seemed to be a completely empty room and seeing my own pale face laying there.

Rows of chairs lined up in front of my casket along with a single rose on each chair. Before my mom was killed she planned my funeral. Seems strange doesn't it? As if she knew that I'd kill myself. But I don't mind- no really. I'm not upset that nobody came to see me or cry over me because what's the point? What's the point when I have my entire family right here with Me?
-See that window? How it's foggy? That's my little brother. Fogging up the glass with his hot breath and small smile. Leukemia got him fast. Fading all the fog.
-see that broken down car in the funeral home parking Lot? There's my grandparents. Gramps loved his old truck so much. It hurts everytime to see that crashed truck. They didn't deserve to get hit so violently and fast.
-if you look over at the pictures on the wall: the portraits, you can see my fathers swift hand with a paintbrush. He'd draw beautiful pictures of my family, and save them in the attic. My favorite was the last one he drew, a picture of our whole family. That was all before he started drinking heavily. He was never sober until one day when he didn't wake up.
-finally, if you look in the back of the funeral home, back in the last row of chairs; you can see my moms sunken face, gunshots ripped through her chest, and blood dripping everywhere; Trying to smile at me-
and slowly I start to see everybody joining her

Dad's drunk face sitting next to mom and holding her hand-
My little brother in his hospital gown, carrying a teddy bear and sitting on dad's lap.
Next to them, gramps and grandma appeared; grandma's shattered glasses and tattered dress, gramps' cane splintered and his legs soaked in blood.

Here, my family. All together again. I've waited for this. This is what the pain is giving me in return.
I decide to walk over to them, join them again and let everything be okay. Letting the rope around my neck drag behind me, I walked up to my mom and stared at her for a moment. She took her other hand and lifted it slowly to my pale cheek, then my neck. She loosened the noose gently
and suddenly I felt air rushing into my lungs again

I woke up gasping for air.
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Downstairs I heard my father discussing the newspaper with my mom while she cooked pancakes for breakfast. My little brother, Anthony, ran into my room and wrapped his stubby arms around me in a tight hug. I looked out the window to see Gramps' car pulling into the driveway and watched him help grandma out of the car. I looked at my brother and something seemed strange.

But-
what happened?