TW: Death

When I got home, My abuelita had already made me a meal. I sat down at the kitchen island and set my backpack on the floor beside me.

"How was school?" she asks.

"It was fine. One of my classes is going to be taking field trips so I need you to sign this paper." I say, sliding the paper over to her. She eyes it and then looks back at me.

"Do you want to?" she asks lowly. I shrug.

"It sounds like a little fun." I say honestly. I put on my best smile and hand her a pen from my bag. She nods and scribbles on the lines.

"As long as you're happy, I'm happy." She says. She walks around the island and wraps her arms around me.

"It's just us girls around now, we have to keep each other from falling apart, you know?" She whispers. There's a lump in my throat before the tears form in my eyes. I hug her back, clenching the back of her shirt.

"Esta bien. You can lean on me sometimes." She whispers, patting my hair. The front door opens and I turn to see my sister, Jaqueline. She glances at us and then heads straight to her room. I turn back to abuelita and sigh.

"She'll come around." She says.

"What if she doesn't?" I ask.

"She will. You are both beautiful, strong girls. I know you will both make smart decisions. You have to trust your sister, you will grieve differently." she assures. I nod and grab the paper off the table. I slid it in my backpack and headed down the hallway, going into my room, which was beside my sisters. I change into a sweat outfit and go knock on her door.

"What?" she calls from inside.

"I just...want to talk." I say.

"No." She says quickly, "there's nothing to talk about." I hear rustling around and then she opens the door. She was only 4 years older than me, at 19, but she was several inches taller than me.

"Move." she cuts. I step out of the way and then follow her into the study room. She starts digging through a drawer, I stay frozen in the doorway. I'm afraid that if I take a step closer, she'll run away.

"Do you really hate me that much?" I finally mustered up the courage to ask. She slams the drawer shut and turns to face me.

"I don't hate you, J. I hate that dad and Dom are gone and you're okay." She snaps.

"So you also think I should have died with them, right?" I ask.

"Jinx, that's not what I meant." She starts. I turn and run back to my room, slamming and locking the door behind me. I throw myself onto my bed and cover myself with the blanket. Jaqueline knocks on the door and I hear her call my name a few times before she gives up.

I guess everyone believed it, even my own sister. Abuelita was wrong, Jaqueline wouldn't come around. Not unless I was gone. It was a sad fact that even I, myself, believed. Why did I get to live? It's a question I think about everyday. My father and my little brother died a few months ago, near the end of 8th grade. My mother shut down and my sister dropped out of school in order to work more hours to support our family.

My abuelita moved in with us to help with cooking and cleaning, something my mother and sister were too tired to do after work. And me? I did nothing. I went to school, only managed to get average grades, and I came home and helped abuelita. It seemed to be all I was able to do. I always took but never gave, I was always provided for, but could never comfort someone else. My sister didn't talk to me much after the accident, and when she did, it ended in a one sided argument like the one we just had.

I'm supposed to be dead too. The only reason I'm not is because I got distracted. I had gone to the store with my father and 4 year old brother, Dominique. We were leaving when I caught sight of a dollar bill floating under a car. I had stopped to grab it without saying anything. My father got halfway across the walkway before he noticed I wasn't beside him. He was still holding my brother's hand when he stopped and turned around to look for me.

"J? What are you doing?" he asked.

"There's a dollar! I almost got it." I had called back. I turned my head to look back at the dollar and that's when it happened. I heard the tires and then a thud. I swung my head in their direction but they were already gone. The time after that was still blurry in my memory. Screaming, crying. People calling for help, a random lady grabbing me in her arms, forcing me to look away. Luckily I hadn't actually seen them, just the vehicle and the drunk man that stumbled out of it.

I can't get his words out of my head.

"Well fu**. Why were they just standing there in my way?" It was a double edged sword. It showed how sick he was, making it sound like he wasn't at fault. And it made me feel even more sick, because I was the reason they were "just standing there". If I had just left the dollar, we all would have been safe. If I had run to him when my father asked what I was doing, I would be dead too. Either option would be better than living like this. Wondering if my whole family really blamed me.

Wondering if it really was my fault. It felt like it was. It feels like it is.

"Valerie!" Abuelita calls, breaking me from the prison of my thoughts. I jump up and unlock the door, letting her step inside. I knew when she called my middle name, that she meant business. She had probably been calling my name for a minute.

"You can't stay in your room all evening like Jacqueline." She says softly, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"Si, abuelita. I know it's my job to help you." I whisper with my head down. She squeezes my shoulder.

"No. It's not your duty to help anyone, you help yourself first sometimes. You can't fix someone's broken leg when you have two broken arms." she says. I laugh.

"That's not that same as this."

"No, but it's the same idea. And I didn't come so you could help me, I came to tell you to eat." She says. I nod and follow her into the kitchen. Jaqueline is already sitting at the table, her back to us. I sit down across from her and abuelita takes the head of the table.

"Where is mom?" I ask.

"She's working overtime tonight. Probably won't be home until after midnight." Jaqueline says, she doesn't bother looking at me. We eat in silence, abuelita attempts to start conversation, but her efforts don't make it very far. Jaqueline eats quickly, finishing before I'm even halfway done. It didn't help that I was a slow eater.

"I'm leaving." She announces, standing.

"No, you are not." Abuelita states. Jaqueline looks like she's about to protest, but she sits down without a word. "I made this meal so we can eat together. No one will leave the table until we are all done."

Jaqueline pulls out her phone but abuelita doesn't complain. At least she was sitting at the table with us. My mind wanders back to my mother. She was working late everyday. When she came home, she went straight to bed. I hadn't even seen her for two days. Even when I did see her, she was almost as distant as Jaqueline. She would let me hug her, but she barely spoke.

I think she also blames me for the accident. I wasn't even supposed to go with them. My mom had asked me to stay and clean my room, but I had convinced her to let me go. She's probably thinking the same way I am. If I had just stayed like she told me too, they would still be alive.

"This is not what they would have wanted." Abuelita blurts. My sister and I both look at her. For the first time since the accident, I saw tears in my abuelita's eyes.

"I have to force you two to sit in the same room, and your mother is barely home. This isn't what your father would have wanted. My son, he would not want this." She says quietly, staring at the table. Tears fill my own eyes and I lay down my fork. I didn't feel like eating anymore.

"You're right, abuelita. Dad wouldn't want this. Dominique wouldn't want this." Jaqueline says, "But I don't think they would want to be dead either. But they are, abuelita, they are dead. So it doesn't matter anymore." She finishes. She catches my eye and then stands up.

"They're gone!" She yells. There were tears falling down her cheeks, and her hands were in fists at her sides. I could hear abuelita crying too.

"They wouldn't want this?" she asks. "I don't want this. I want them." Jaqueline turns on her heel and makes her way to the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her. Abuelita doesn't stop her, and she doesn't say anything to me. She just sits and cries. There's a throbbing pain in my chest and stomach, like my heart was trying to jump out, and my stomach was filled with rocks.

My heart beats faster and faster, my hands get sweaty, and there's a ringing in my ears. I knew it was my fault they were gone, and I knew that everyone blamed me, but hearing it again hurt worse. Jaqueline just wanted her father and brother back. Mom wanted her husband and son back, abuelita wanted her son and grandson back. But what about me? What did I want? I wanted my family back. Without Dom and Dad, my family was not a family anymore.

We were broken strangers forced to live together. And among them, I was the strangest. I was not wanted here, I was an outcast. They didn't want me here, I wouldn't want me here either. Sometimes I catch myself wishing I had been hit too, if anything. Im gasping for air now, and I hear abuelita calling my name, but it sounds like she's far in the distance. I reach for something, anything. I fall from my chair, landing hard on my shoulder. I feel the pain but it's nothing compared to the fear of not being able to breathe. The world sways around me and I close my eyes. 

(End of part 1/1)