Growing up my favorite color was pink. Every kid was conditioned, by society or their parents or by marketing done by big brands, to like a certain color. Boys will like blue and girls will like pink and only the weirdos liked any other color besides those two. But then as you started to grow up girls will start to like blue and boys will start to like pink and only the weirdos like any other color besides that. That kid, as a growing adult, will think that they are breaking gender norms and stereotypes by liking a certain color. But later on down the road that kid will be the one of many who are at fault again. They just created new gender norms and stereotypes by thinking they broke the old gender norms and stereotypes.

I woke up feeling extremely odd. I was laying in my bed, I think, with only the top sheet covering me. If felt gross in the room. Imagine sitting in a room where the walls were windows, from top to bottom, letting all the light and heat come through. You turn on the fan, no air conditioning, not even the central one, to cool down the room but all it does it circulate all the hot air around the room. That's how it feels right now in this room. There was also a sort of summer stickiness in the air.

My body felt achy. Muhammad Ali used to do this thing were he didn't start counting how many sit ups he did until it started hurting. That's how I felt right now. My arms felt like it was poked all over the place with a thousand little needles. The butterfly needles. If you ever had a butterfly needle stuck into your body you know. All the pain I had in my body had gathered in the crown of my head. It was pounding in my ears.

I opened my eyes, I wondered briefly if they would open and still function, and everything was in such sharp focus that it made my headache somehow worse. The light glistened a bit to brightly and the colors were so vibrant that it made the room look like a piece of pop art. I turned my head to the side and everything seemed to move in slow motion.

I sat up and my body sounded like I had lit 5 packs of firecrackers. My joints felt so stiff. I spent a good 5 minutes just cracking my entire body. I sometimes think I have arthritis. I should ask Dad next chance I get.

Dad.

Everything came flooding back. The car, the blood, the glass and metal all over the place, the countless people there. It was a horrible tape that kept rewinding and playing in my head.

I remember seeing Dad and Victor. The blood and the cuts and the bruises all over their bodies. But despite all that was happening they were smiling. I can't seem to remember anything pass that. It was like I more than blanked out.

I was just sitting in bed, allowing the tape to keep playing. Each time it replayed it was worse than the last. I kept on noticing new things, like a new cut or another broken bone, on them each time it play. When it got too much I couldn't take it anymore. I saw a lot of chunks fly into the toilet. I was trying to hold my hair up as I was throwing up my guts. I had already flushed the toilet twice, each flush filled with throw up.

Somebody had come to the room. It was Greyson. Why is he always there when I need him? Does he have superpowers or something? Or is he like Ken and has a "Daisy Tingle"? Sometimes I think I shackle him down too much. He could be so free but because he calls me his he is stuck.

He was on the phone with someone. When he saw the restroom door open he said "I'll call you back". He came in the restroom and held my hair as I threw up for a third time. He had to rub my back to help me get it all out. Finally when I was finished I wiped my face with water then fell into his arms.

He took us to the bed and situated us. He handed me my blanket, which I refused, and a pillow for support. I hugged it and his arm as though it was the only thing that I could hold onto before losing my sanity.

We sat in silence. Well in silence with my deep, labored breathing accompanying it. The tape kept on replaying in my head. It was a silent film which made it worse. In a silent film there's no voice to narrate the story so you have to do it yourself. You have to tell yourself all the details and the story, but I don't know what it was. 

"You want to eat?" he asked.

My body was shaky and I should eat after all that throwing up but I shook my head no. The movie in my head and actually food in my stomach will be worse than what just happened.

"Do you need anything?" he asked.

Again I shook my head no. I wanted to shower, to go on a drive, to leave for a bit, to let this pain end, to have Dad and Victor back, but I shook my head no.

He nodded his head and let the silence resume. He sat there, rubbing his hand up and down my arm, not letting go of me one bit. He is such a good man. Growing up you would have expected him to be a spoiled brat and a bitter person, even more heartless than the Evil Queen, but he is the kindest and most humbled person I've ever known. I wonder how, and why.

"What time is it?" I ask.

"Almost 2 in the morning," he said.

"I've been knocked out for a few hours?"

He gave me a sad smile as he stroked my hair. "More like a few days. It's Monday night and you've been gone since Saturday. You were at the hospital for a bit, but we asked them to release you."

We? Who is 'we'? Who cares. But that explains the needle pain sensation. The hospital. The thought of that place made me sick. It was one of the last places in the world that I wanted to be at.

But wow. For me to sleep that long should be considered a scientific discovery, or maybe just a plain miracle. I have a hard time falling asleep and staying asleep. I usually wake up after a while just cause my brain won't shut it or cause I am in literal pain from how cold it is from my room.

"Greyson what- what happened?" 

"You sure you want to hear this?" he asked nervously.

I nodded my head very solemnly. I already knew what happened. They're dead. I knew the second I saw them. I knew the second I saw them gradually bleeding out, every bone in their body snapped, all the oxygen they were loosing. I saw the medics doing what they could but there was no point. We all knew it. 

He sighed, probably not wanting to tell me. I felt bad. I didn't want him to feel this pain but I had to know. I had to share the pain with him too. He was the first person to know. That was completely my fault. I handed him the phone. I made him talk to the other person on the line. He was the one who had to hear that they were halfway to Death's doorstep. Should it have been me and not Greyson? Should I have been the one told that they were gone and not him?

"The police report said that the guy, who was driving the Land Cruiser, his heart stopped. He practically died too. When he woke up again he realized that he was going on 100 down the road. He jerked the wheel to the left, thinking there would be a wall or something to stop his car. He didn't realize what he had done. He stayed conscious long enough to tell the police what had happened then his heart stopped again. All three of them were dead at the scene."

He died too. That was another jab at my heart. A random stranger had died today to. There was other people, I hope, that are in mourning as well for their loved one. I hope someone else is wailing in pain as they realized that a person they knew was taken away too. There should be someone like that for that random person. 

'He didn't realize what he had done'. That's what stuck with me. Was he responsible in this instance? Maybe. On one hand, it wasn't his fault that his heart stopped. He couldn't prevent that from happening. And what he did, jerking the wheel around, could have prevented a lot more deaths. But on the other hand it created 2. If he could've just gone a couple more yards forward...

"The funeral is this Saturday, at noon," Greyson choked out. I kind of forgot that we have to have that. I've never really done this before. This whole thing is rather new to me. "I think the faster we say- we say goodbye, the better."

Goodbye. We already did that on the phone though. "How far are you?", "About 10 minutes away.", "Okay hurry up.", "Yeah, bye." Was that not good enough? Did we have to do that whole show? 

"Did anybody call Victor's parents? And Shelby? Do they know yet?" I forgot for a second that this affected them too. They lost someone too. Too much loosing is happening today. When I go to an arcade or play a sport or something like that, a beast come out of me. I like winning so much that I do not accept the loss.

I had spent a couple weekends with them and I remember being so excited. It was the first time I have ever spent time with my grandparents and aunts and uncles. Shelby has all boys and she always wanted a daughter so I was a perfect fit. And I loved it too. It felt nice to talk to about the boy in my life like that; I'll always have Dani, and Joshua in certain cases, but there is no replacements like that in your life. Greyson and I and my grandparents spent one day just basically hanging out day. They were spoiling me so much with a bunch of things I refused at first but, they said, I had to be spoiled cause I was now their grandchild too.  It was like we were chilling with his nonna but it was so different though. I never had that growing up. Both Lori and Dad's family cut them off when they had me. One of the few things they both had in common. 

"They are coming on Friday. Joshua said he would go and pick them up. I have to go to the funeral home and drop off their- stuff. They called me this morning to let me know."

Morticians have a tough yet beautiful job. They are constantly surrounded by death and sadness and tears yet they are always willing to come back to worn each day as the sun rises. They are always ready to help another grieving family. I've met a couple morticians before and they say that sometimes their craft is one of the many things that help people deal with grief.

We still sat there. It felt oddly empty in the room, then I realized why.

"Where's Dani? And Joshua?" I asked

"In the other room. I'll go get them."

The three of then came into the room. Joshua was extremely red in the face. It looked as though he hasn't stopped crying since Saturday. I looked over to Dani and thought she looked the most sane out of all of us. Her eyes were red but she wasn't the only one looking sad or was crying.

I forgot. These deaths affected them as much as it did me. (It made me a little mad that Dad and Victor were hurting this many people) When we became best friends we sort of became Dad's, and later on Victor's, adopted kids, and vice versa. We were a perfect, little goofy family until it was all ruined.

We somehow managed to fit on my tiny bed. Greyson sat next to me and wrapped an arm around me, holding me close to him. The other two settled at the foot of the bed, opposite of us, and was almost mirroring us. They grabbed some of the blanket and cuddled underneath it.

"How are you feeling?" Dani asked as she settled down.

"I'm okay," I said, clearly lying through my teeth.

Her smile was very understanding. They all knew what is actually going on, who can hide the truth, but they didn't seem to mind. I knew if I asked them the same thing they would give me the same response. We are all on this roller coaster together.

I looked over to Joshua. I immediately felt worse than earlier, which is saying something. It was supposed to be his day.

"Did you get accepted?" I asked him. I had a hunch he opened his letter in the flurry of everything just to know.

A few tears came out of his eyes. His mouth quivered as he said "Yeah I did-"

"Congrats!"

"Good job man!"

"But I'm not going," he finished. The ounce of happiness we had was gone quickly.

"Why not?" I asked. Joshua, who doesn't look like he gives school crap, and at times he really didn't, but he had been dreaming of going to Rice since he could eat it.

"Because I can't- I don't have the means too- What I'm trying to say is that-"

He kept fumbling over his words. After a while I got what he was trying to say.

Dad was basically providing for Joshua's family since his mom died and his dad got sick. Joshua does have a job to try and help out, but Dad was forcing their family to take the money. It was the least he could do. He was also forcing Joshua to quit his job and go live his life. Dad had his youth taken away from him, it was because of me if we are being honest, so he wouldn't allow Joshua's to be taken away too. Joshua always respected Dad like crazy. It was more than Greyson, and that's saying something. Say something bad about Dad in front of Joshua and it will not turn out pretty. Dad was going to pay for Joshua's college, he even found a full time caretaker for his dad, but that's all out of the window now. 

"You're going," Greyson said randomly. 

"What?" Joshua said very confused.

"I'll pay for your school. You just go focus on your education. Make us proud, buddy."

New tears rolled down Joshua's face. He looked so happy at the prospect of his dreams coming true again. He looked at Dani and, possibly for the first time, kissed her. They melted at the other's touch into their own world. A new love had erupted. It was needed at the moment. They both looked into each other's eyes so lovingly. They both fell into each other, not caring about anything else in the world besides the person they loved.

Greyson looked happy. We all were best friends, but Greyson is very protective and particular about Joshua. They were more than best friends; they were brothers from another mother. Joshua doesn't have siblings and Greyson doesn't- well you know the situation- so it was a perfect match. They were able to be there for each other when others weren't or wouldn't. Like Eric and Jack. Roommates forever. 

There was a little bit of happiness in me, but it was overruled by curiosity.

"How are you going to pay for it?" I whispered to Greyson.

"Remember the letter Nonna sent me, with the bird pin? Well it said that Nonno and her made an account that was supposed to given to me when I turned 18. They didn't tell them though. It was kind of their secret. It was like they knew my plan along. So I may as well pay for his school. I also have some other plans for it as well." He kissed the top of my head and rested his on my. 

"Want to let me in on it?"

"All in good time."

The four of us sat there through the night. It was a strange thing. We all were sitting there, everything almost being fine. Almost. We all lost someone who we loved so much, and in turn they loved us to. Every now and then I would forget what happened and expected Dad and Victor to come barging in the room and be the totally in love goof balls they were. But they wouldn't be doing that anymore. They wouldn't be coming in and acting like two-thirds of "The Three Stooges" or else raging out to "Master of Puppets" like the true Eddie Munson-Metallica fans they were.

 You know, everyone paints death to be this big climatic thing. There is this great build up that ultimately leads to a person's end. There isn't. Death is unexpected and just happens randomly. One moment you are having such a normal day, thinking that today is just like any other day, but then it hits you like a train wreck. It is fast and hard and leaves such an impact.

Looking at everyone else they were able to express their emotions into tears or words, able to be comforted or be comforting, but mine came out as silence. I wasn't able to do anything like that for some reason. It is hurting so bad but nothing on me is showing that. It is the worst pain I have felt in a while: Silence. 

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