Don't Forget Me

Chapter Three

Who really am I?

I wonder sometimes. I had a very disturbing dream, after I cried myself to sleep at night, yet again.

I couldn't do anything. Committing suicide? I couldn't even kill a fly, if I tried. Some special promise I made, huh?

Anyways, in the dream, I'm going to the hospital to visit my mom. She looks at me, all lifeless and blank, which is very far from normal. She stares for a few heartbeat-skipping moments and says:

"Ghosts can't die."

Someone, please bring in a translator for this girl's dream! This is more confusing than any stupid math problem I've been given for homework.

And believe me, math is the worst.

Anyways, school is as usual, and Dylan is too. I'm not sure if he noticed it himself, but he made eye contact with me!

Or maybe he was staring through me, as if I were a ghost, like my dream implied.

Well, I visited my mom after school, and I'm wishing from the bottom (and from the middle, left, right, and top) of my heart that she is not a creepy zombie with an equally creepy message to give.

I swung the door open, and slowly made my way over to the chair near the foot of her hospital bed. She was sleeping.

Her raven-colored hair fell at her shoulders, almost as if it were trying to comfort her as she slept.

I cracked open a book, as there was no harm in waiting for her to wake up. My aunt was at the market buying goods, like she normally did on Thursdays.

"U-uh, Mom... I couldn't... I didn't..."
Why is it so hard to talk now?!

"I wasn't able to kill myself. I can't. I know I should, because all that ever happened to me was death and grief... And... I don't want you to die."

I took a deep breath. Fighting back an army of tears that were going to start streaming down my face in the next two seconds, I continued:

"You've been nothing but kind to me. Th-thank you for that."

One tear slid down.

"You always provided help when I needed it."

Two tears followed.

"You were always... always there for me. Every. Single. Time."

This suddenly got hard.

"When my brother passed away in that car accident, we were going home from the hospital.

A-and, Dad tried to protect him when that man drove straight into the car.

You left with a broken leg, and they were gone, gone forever..."

I couldn't stop sobbing now, recalling the memories of their deaths. I was eight years old at the time.

"And I was left unharmed.

When you should've shunned me for not suffering at all, for being some sort of demon child, for just watching everything unfold...

You hugged me. You told me everything was going to be okay. The family was torn to pieces, and you were struggling to hold onto the last child you had, even though your newborn...

A bundle of joy...

And your loving husband who stuck with you until the very end...left."

Why? Why did everyone I love just slip by my fingers...?

I hugged Mom with every ounce of strength I had left. I was trying so very hard not to cry, but there was no use, it wouldn't stop.

When I let go, I realized that Mom was smiling at me, crying with me, reaching for a hand to hold.

"I.. love you, Ashy. Don't forget me." She coughed out. It was painfully obvious that she was slipping by too.

"Mom, don't. Don't go. I'm not ready to say goodbye!" I bawled.

"I'm afraid I can't fulfill my own daughter's last wish. I'm so sorry, Ashy-darling," she whispered.

"Please. Don't. Go..." I begged her, but her hand turned cold.

I shook her gently.

"Hey," My eyes were widening, and I was shivering so much from all the incoming tears.

I shook her a little harder.

"Hey, wake up."

It became a rough push.

"Wake up! This isn't funny... please. Mom. Don't... leave me..."

It was too late. She left too. She left me like every one else.

Why can't I leave too?! Why can't I join them all together, as a family?!
Why am I the one who's forced into staying on this torture called "Earth"?

Unless...

"Ghosts can't die."

No... no way... I can't ALREADY be dead. That's not possible... but then again, Mom suffered from an illness, one that she carried with her since when she was born. She faced death a lot of times, so she knew who I was by the time she passed away.

It all clicked together, like one of those complex hundred-piece jigsaw puzzles and it all explains why no one notices me.