Midnight Rose

PROLOGUE

I can't recall the nights individually. They all sort of melted together. But I remember the silence. We all just sat there, willing ourselves to eat something, a desperate attempt to stay healthy, even though it was much too late.

Every once in a while, one of us would say something, try to stir a conversation. Some feeble remark would sound from one of the others, and we'd retort to utter silence. The everlasting kind, I was sure it'd never end.

And honestly, I don't think it ever did. I think it became a part of me, a part of all of us, never to be lost.

I remember the anger, too - Of course, I knew perfectly well that they didn't deserve it, they'd lost their children, they had a right to be devastated - but dammit, I'd lost my siblings! How the hell was I supposed to go through that alone? I was the child, after all, they were supposed to be comforting me; stroking my hair as I cried, whispering comforting words, telling me we'd get through this together.

Instead, that's what I had to tell myself every night as I cried myself to sleep. Every morning when I tried to force myself to get up. Every hopelessly long day when I just waited for it to be over, only to repeat everything again, again, again. It was a never-ending cycle of grief.

The thing is, none of us got through it. None of us survived that day, not really. Only mum, dad, and I were still planted on this Earth, waiting for the gods to collect us so we could be rejoined with those who were so cruelly ripped away from us.

Every one of us knew there was nothing left here for us. We were the survivors, as people often told us, but they knew nothing. They expected us to get over it, push it away, perhaps, deny it or ignore it; but we just couldn't.

And now, ten years later, here I am; about to start the senior year of high school - every teenager's living hell. But I'll be fine; I've already been through mine.