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CHAPTER ONE

On November 27th, something felt off that day. I can't explain it into words, it's like my gut was telling me not to get into that car. It's like I wasn't even supposed to live. Maybe life isn't that bad after all, since we both want the same thing.

Death.

We had just gotten back from out weekend from Ohio and were heading towards James Cox Dayton Intl Airport, in Dayton, Ohio. In the car I was just sitting there, listening to Beyonce. Her song Heaven was playing in my ears. The tune still seems to be there, buried in my head, repeating. It won't go away.

It's funny how they give you pain killers and antidepressants, just throwing medicines at you, hoping to take the pain away. But the irony of it is that pain killers can't take the pain away. No matter how many times I've tried. The antidepressants can't help me, and neither can people.

Before all this, I was your type of girl that would go to the movies with her friends, never her sister. I'd always leave her out. Pick on her, tell her she wasn't old enough to go. But you know what I give to see a movie with her now? I would give my life, I would do anything to see a movie with her 8 year old smile, little gap in between her two front teeth.

I don't exactly remember everything of the wreck. It's kind of like it didn't happen. You know? People forget or they just don't care. All I remember is we were flying in mid air, and that Beyonce song, Heaven, was slowly singing to me.

No heaven couldn't wait for you
So go on, go home

People seem to find it funny that I was listening to that song. Dr. Aldreck says heaven wasn't ready for me, nor will it be with the 'fast recovery' I'm making. Although I know he's lying. My nightmares haven't went away, the pain hasn't went away, but why haven't I?

I know that I don't have a special purpose here. What's the point of living if I can't wake up and smell Mom cooking pancakes on a Sunday morning? Dad watching the big game on the flat screen, talking to me about football which I know nothing about. Or Sydney, running around the house in my heels and tiara! What's the point in breathing if they can't? What's the point of trying when I'm too weak to try?

Dr. Aldreck released me out of the hospital 3 days later. I had a couple of cuts, while my family had suffered badly. My dad instantly died at the wheel from the impact of hitting his head on the steering wheel and flipping us over. My mom was rushed to the hospital but died in the process of being in an ambulance, she bled out. And Sydney?

Sydney is stuck in a coma. She broke her leg and had to have surgery. The nurses tell me that she is healing well. The whole time I was in the hospital, I would try to escape my room, I wanted to see my family.

I just wanted to see them again.

But the nurses and Dr. Aldreck refused to let me out.

So I sit here, in this white room, with sheets that smell as if they've never been slept in. My walls, chipped from the white paint, only to see gray underneath. My mind trying to erase all these memories from my head. The point where I can't sleep any longer, can't breathe most of the time.

'My room' consisted of a bed, with metal bars for a headboard and baseboard. The door was white as well, as if it blended into the wall that never ended. The windows were covered with bars, as if I was in jail. The air smelt of sweet spring and, summer yet to come. I made the staff cover my windows with boards over the metal bars, I never wanted to see the world again.

If my parents couldn't, neither would I.