ALLY
I woke up to a very bright room. I blinked a few times to get my bearings, it took quite a moment though got my eyes to clear and adjust.
I looked around the room, everything felt strange. I couldn't tell where exactly I was, or what had happened. My nose rather picked up on the smell of antiseptic which was way too strong, and my nose wrinkled in disgust.
I tried to move, but my head ached badly. I looked around again, but nothing seemed familiar. The room was too clean, too white. It felt strange.
"Where am I? " I whispered.
No one answered. The only sound that answered me was the noise of the machine behind me. No one else did. My hands felt weird too, heavy, like they weren't even mine.
Confused, I blinked and tried to piece things together. Then suddenly, a nurse was standing beside my bed. Her face was unreadable but calm. It must've been years of practiced compassion, because how could she not be smiling, yet still seem like she was?
"Ivy, honey, you fainted," she said. "Your body went into shock. We just needed to make sure you were okay."
Her words came to me slowly. My mind was struggling to make sense of what she said.
Shocked? Fainted?
How? Why?
At first, It didn't make any sense. I tried putting two and two, when I remembered. Like, the memories just bombarded me without mercy.
My hands immediately shot up to my throat before I even realized what I was doing.
No…. Please, no.
I gasped for air. My head spun, in fact, my lungs totally failed me. My chest was closing up, making it harder for me to breathe.
I curled into a ball crying hysterically.
It hurt. Everything hurt.
My mom. My dad.
They were gone.
"Why did they have to leave me?"I cried out.
My chest tightened like it was closing up. I gasped for breath. "I want them back." I sobbed.
The nurse quickly grabbed my hand when she noticed I couldn't breathe right. "Ivy, breathe, " she said firmly, her hands on my shoulders. "Look at me. In, out. Just follow my voice. "
I tried. I swear I tried. But nothing was working. Everything hurt.
All I could think about was my parents. Their memories flooded in, clear and sharp. I saw them laughing at the breakfast table, sunlight pouring through the kitchen window.
My dad teasing me about my low math score, laughing that he'd failed the same subject. My mom smiling as she drank her coffee.
I swear I could still see them. It felt so real, I could almost hear them.
And then…. nothing.
Gone.
The beeping behind me was the only thing that stayed constant.
I couldn't move much. I couldn't stop crying. I was too weak to do anything.
I just stared at a spot on the wall.
I wanted to scream, to rip at my hair, to do something ,anything, but I was too tired.
The tears just kept coming, and I couldn't stop them.
Gone?
Gone meant… forever. Gone meant I'd never hear them again. Never hug them. Never fight with them over little things or say sorry or hear them say I love you, pumpkin.
It was too late.
"I want them back," I choked out.
And that was the truth. The only thing I knew how to say.
The nurse didn't answer. She didn't say some fake comforting line. She just sat there, still holding my hand, letting me be wrecked. Letting the grief rip me open in silence.
Because there was nothing to fix.
The damage had already rooted itself.
And I didn't know who I was without them.
"Ivy," the nurse said softly as she ticked the blanket around me. "You're safe here. We'll take care of you."
I wanted to say thank you. But my mouth wouldn't open. I just nodded and looked away.
"Want me to call someone? Your aunt's outside."
I didn't want to see her. I didn't want to see anyone. But I nodded anyway. I didn't have the energy to argue.
Aunt Linda came in, holding herself like She might fall apart too. She sat down beside me, and held my hand in hers. She sniffed multiple times, then sighed. Then left. Came back. Her face looked like she'd been crying a lot.
She looked at me, at some point, she called my name. I turned to look at her.
"Ivy", she called, clutching a tissue tight in her hand. She held my hands, holding them tight. "You are not alone in this, you're never by yourself. I'm here. I know… I know I'm not them." She paused, like the words hurt to say. "But I'm not leaving. I'll stay, okay? However I can."
Wiping tears away, she continued. "I get it, this isn't what you want to hear right now. But I need you to know something. I'm not going anywhere. You've got me. Always."
She swallowed hard, tugging at the frayed edge of her sweater, the same nervous habit Mom used to have. "I know… I could never be them," she whispered, voice shaking. "But I'll try. I promise I'll try.
I nodded, but the tears didn't stop. I understood what she meant. I also knew she was hurting, she'd just lost her sister. Who wouldn't fall apart? And she was right, those weren't the words I needed. I didn't want to be comforted. I just wanted them back.
Later, I was discharged. Aunt Linda took me home. I barely remembered the ride. Or getting out of the car. Or even walking through the front door.
That whole evening was a blur. People came and went. Saying sorry. Hugging me. Crying. Touching me. Talking like their words would fix something.
I didn't want any of it.
I sat through it all, but I wasn't really there.
I just wanted them back.
Aunt Linda kept telling me to rest. But I couldn't sleep. I couldn't shut my mind off. The bed felt wrong. Too big. The house too quiet. My head too loud.
Sometime that night, Sophia came. She didn't knock. She just walked in and sat next to me. She held my hand. Didn't say anything for a long time.
Our friendship had always been special. No need to fill the silence. She was just there.
Her hand was warm in mine, even though I was trembling. We'd met during my birthday. She lived in the same neighborhood. The shy girl and the sharp girl, somehow we'd clicked. We'd been best friends ever since.
We'd shared late nights, secrets, laughs, tears. We'd talked about our dreams, and boys too.
Sitting there in the dim room, the memories hit me like a wave. Sophia sat beside me, her thumb brushing slow circles over my hand. Seeing her brought fresh tears to my eyes.
I sobbed in her arms, and she did the same. We broke apart together, but I felt a little bit better.
It took a while for us to calm down. We lay together on the floor, holding each other.
"Remember that time your dad tried to teach us to fish?' Sophia asked softly, a faint smile on her lips. 'He spent more time untangling damn the lines than anything else.
I smiled. Just a little. "Yeah," I said.
I remembered. He was so patient. We caught one fish. Dropped it by mistake. He laughed and chased us with the fishing rod.
She smiled, too. "And that cake your mom baked for your thirteenth birthday?"
I actually laughed a little. "It fell apart."
"That was the biggest mess I've ever seen, " she muttered, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand, like She didn't know whether to laugh of cry.
Then her face changed. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around me. "I know it hurts, " she whispered into my hair. "They'd want you to be okay, Ivy, " she said. They'd want you to smile. Not cry like this."
I didn't answer. I just cried more.
I knew she was right. But it still didn't change how much it hurt.
Next day, the house didn't feel like my house. People kept coming. Family, friends, neighbors. All saying things. Trying to comfort me. But none of it helped. I didn't want their pity. I didn't want their words.
I just wanted my parents.
That's it.