7:00 am

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You hear mother open the window of your colorful room. You let your eyes slowly drift open as you see the sun shine through the early morning fog. Glancing at the clock, you see mom has woken you up early. Last night you had another nightmare. This time it was different than the others.


It started out as a nice dream of  your brother and you. It was more like another memory. You remembered the day. You and Brody were sitting on the edge of the pool with your feet dipped  in the water. You had a day full of fun with him and the sun was starting to set." Brody," you asked with a sweet smile.

"Yes Corrine?"

"What would you do if I died  or got really hurt?" You asked with your baby voice.

Brody laughed," I'd celebrate!"

You laughed as you looked at your tiny feet swishing in the water . He had a mischievous smirk on his face when he pushed  you in the warm water. You screeched and began to giggle when you came up for air." You're the worst brother!'


Then the memory took a turn and be came a nightmare. You felt something yank at your ankle," Brody, help!" You reached for his hand, but he ran away in fear.  You began to drown, drown into silence. Why did drowning feel so familiar?


You bit your lips, scared to talk about it. Not wanting to share your thoughts. Mom lifts you and puts you in your wheelchair. She rolls you down the suburban hall to the kitchen. You're wheeled to the wooden table. You watch mom bustle around the kitchen, and you notice that the drawings that you drew before the accident were gone from the fridge. You furrowed your eyebrows. That's what happens when you grow, but you didn't think mom moved on from your childhood. Mom notices your stare," What are your green eyes thinking?"

You avert your eyes once again. You don't want her to know.


After you eat breakfast with your shaky hands, mom does your long strawberry blonde hair." I'm thinking a french braid. would you like that?" She asks, hoping you would be happy. You give a weak smile as she begins to brush your locks. You look around your bright room. Mom made it that way. She sacrifices so much just to make you content  in your own room. Even though she tries her hardest, everything doesn't feel the same anymore. The color is not as bright as your future once was. As mom  begins to braid your hair, you hear cricking footsteps coming from the hall. You glance your eyes at the cracked door and see your brother walk past, earbuds in. He hasn't talked to you ever since the accident. You know he feels guilty , he shouldn't. You were just playing around. It's not his fault you kicked the ball into the road. 



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