Although I cannot remember what I dreamed about, I feel as if I had woken up from a long and awful nightmare. For the first time in a long while, a sense of genuine bliss falls over me. I find myself not feeling the usual fatigue or numbness I had every day. As I rise from my bed, I notice that yesterday must have been exhausting because I seemed to have fallen asleep without covers. The pillows stack neatly against the headboard and there were no creases on the sheets; it was as if I had not slept there at all.

The savory aroma of bacon wafts in the air and beckons me to come downstairs. As I drift closer, the sound of sizzling oil welcomes my ears. When I reach the kitchen, I see my mom smiling as she cooks breakfast. She calls for me and my younger brother. I smile and gently greet her, “Good morning.” Oddly enough, she does not acknowledge my presence and continues cooking as if I had not spoken. I speak louder this time, yet her face shows no change in expression. Was it something I did wrong? I return back upstairs and reach the bathroom to get ready for school.

Never in my life have I witnessed a dead body, and I least expected it to be mine. An empty bottle of wine and several orange containers sit on top of the counter. I walk over to my lifeless figure; the bottoms of my feet feeling dozens of sleeping pills scattered across the bathroom floor. There was a lack of color in my skin and my eyes remain open. No hint of life remained; it was too late. I never truly woke up from the nightmare.

***

Word of my passing reached the school. Hushed whispers haunt its rooms and halls. My story is constantly changing each time it is shared, for judgements are made regardless if they knew me or not. As I visit my classes, people glance towards my empty seat and remember me briefly. Eventually, I will be forgotten.

I was free of the pain I felt, yet it never subsided. It only moved on to other people.

When I would visit, my mom did not enter my room. She spent most of her time laying in bed crying softly as to not worry my brother. No matter how hard I tried, I could never reach her. All I could do is hug her and hope that someday- she will know I am there.

Despite my mom’s lack of interest in going through my things, this did not stop my little brother. At nights when he could not sleep, he would sneak into my room and read some of my books. He would even talk about his days at school and continue to play silly videos he found for me. Sometimes he would ask me questions and wait for an answer, until he eventually falls asleep.

I never meant to hurt anyone, yet I did; I learned that I caused more pain regardless of my intent to end all of it. The night of restless wanderings have long exhausted me. I visit all of my loved ones for a final time and return to my room. At last, I retire into a peaceful sleep.

I finally wake up from the nightmare.