My reflection studies me, judging; eyes piercing the rose gold chain resting against my exposed collarbone. Perhaps I should cover it with a less revealing top, hiding it from the world. Something that would only belong to me. Something like a secret.

Who am I kidding? I can't wear turtlenecks for the rest of my life. Someone eventually will see the necklace and ask the question, 'who gave it to you?' And well, I'll answer, 'my boyfriend. It belonged to his mother before she died. And now it's mine, all mine.' That last part I would leave to myself.

1 cool chain slips through 5 fingers, before resting once again against my skin, glowing in the light. Something to treasure.

"Who gave that to you?"

I jump, knocking my funny bone into the dresser, the feel of poking needles spreading up my arm. Ouch.

Mom stands in the doorway with her hazel eyes fixed on the necklace.

"Adrian," I reply, my heart fluttering when I say his name. "It belonged to his mother and well..." I can feel my face reddening. "He thought I should have it."

She smiles as I rub my still aching funny bone. "Awe isn't that sweet. Are you two finally an item?"

My blush deepens. "Mom!"

She laughs. "I'm taking that as a yes."

I glare at her. "So what brings you to my room?"

"Oh right." She smiles. "I came to tell you that we're leaving now. Dad chose McDonald's."

I sigh. "Ok, I'm coming."

Grabbing my sweater, I follow her out of my room, closing the door behind me.

***

McDonald's is extra packed tonight, we get the last table for 4 situated all the way in the back of the store near the smelly restrooms. Every time someone opens the door, I gag and quickly cover my nose. This must have already happened 6 times in the past 20 minutes as we wait for our food. My order is the Chicken McNuggets with fries and a large coke.

Why isn't it ready yet? I'm hungry.

"So how was school today?" Mom asks, once again bringing up a conversation.

"School," I respond my eyes centered on Dad who's finally heading back toward us, a red tray piled with food occupying his hands. My hero!

"Food!" Josh cheers as Dad places the food before us.

"Thanks," I smile taking what I ordered and digging in.

This time around I'm the one watching Josh eat; Big Mac sauce dripping down his chin. He doesn't look my way once as my eyes sear into him. He must have learned his lesson from last time. Good, let's not start any fights tonight. I don't think I could handle any. I know I can't handle any.

For once I want us to be a normal, happy family. No problems. No issues. No daughters who are crazy.

Again who am I kidding, this family will never be normal. I'll never be normal. Because I'm crazy. --- A disease that I believe is incurable.

Shelby Morganstein, the crazy daughter who is pulling her family apart by the seams.

I'm now looking down at my uneaten fries, tears welling up in my eyes. I push them back, barricading them with a brick wall.

"Everything ok sunshine?" I look up, finding Dad watching me. "You haven't touched your fries."

Smiling softly, I reply, "Yeah, just need the chicken nuggets to settle first before I tackle the fries."

He smiles back at me. "That's a great plan. It's not healthy to stuff your face." His eyes are now resting on Josh, who's still shoving his Big Mac into his way-too-big mouth.

He glances up, noticing us watching him. "What?" He asks with a full mouth of food.

I roll my eyes while trying very hard to hold in my laughter. Josh can be unbelievable sometimes. Honestly, I don't know how we can share the same blood. We're so, so, so different.

"Please slow down, you might choke on that burger if you keep shoving it in your face." Dad's face is more serious than ever.

Josh looks shocked and this time I can't help myself from laughing. Soon everyone else joins in, including Josh himself.

At a table of 4 in McDonald's sits a father, a mother, a daughter, and a son laughing without a care about what others think. A happy family, with a crazy daughter.

Happy, happy, happy, happy, happy, happy, happy, happy, happy, happy, happy, happy--- for once.

So what if we're not normal. Happiness beats that all.

***

I roll over in bed for the umpteenth time restless.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. Again. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10.

Counting doesn't seem to be helping me tonight. I'm not tired.

My blanket falls to the carpeted floor first, my bare feet following.

I end up in the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge. Tonight just doesn't seem to be my night. There's no chocolate mouse pie waiting for me.

Aggravated, I make my way to the family room, settling on the pristine snow-white sofa. The wall clock reads 3 am.

3.30 am.

3.45 am.

That's when a sound from the kitchen startles me. With caution, I get to my feet and tiptoe toward the other room--- Stealth mode.

I find Mom pouring herself a cup of milk.

"You scared me."

She looks up at me, surprised, the cup of milk almost slipping from her fingers. "No, you scared me."

I glance away, guilty. "Sorry, I was in the family room when I heard someone in here. I came to investigate."

"Couldn't sleep?"

"No, you?"

"Well, I'm here drinking a cup of milk, so no bed for me." She gives me a kind smile. "Are scary thoughts keeping you awake?"

"No, must have been the coke with all its caffeine."

"That makes sense." She slides onto one of the stools and places her cup of milk before her.

And then we just watch each other, waiting.

"Mom," I say at last.

"Hmmm."

"Did Dr. Lewis call you?"

"No, why?" She's now looking at me, her eyes crinkling at the sides as she scrutinizes me. "What happened?"

"I told her that I've been doing better and well I was hoping she mentioned that to you, since I don't think I need to go to her anymore." I suck in a breath, waiting for her response.

"What do you mean you've been doing better?"

I exhale, releasing the carbon dioxide. "I've accepted that grandma's death was an accident. It wasn't my fault and I have no reason to be guilty." My voice sounds robotic. The words leaving my mouth encoded in my system.

Mom's eyes are tearing as she says, "Really?"

I meet her eyes, hoping that I seem sincere, "Yes."

She's then bolting out of her seat and flinging herself into my arms, tears rolling down her face. "I can't believe my baby girl is..." She doesn't get to finish because Dad walks into the room.

"What's going on here?" His sleepy eyes blink, 1, 2, 3.

Mom sniffs, wiping at her runny nose. "Our baby girl has accepted that Mom's death was an accident. She's doing better."

Dad joins, wrapping his arms around us both. "Now I could actually sleep at night, knowing that my little sunshine isn't being haunted by nightmares anymore."

Tears sting at my eyes, the love in this room too overwhelming for me. My parents are being way too accepting. I guess when you want so badly for your daughter to be doing fine, you become oblivious to the lies clearly written on her face. Or maybe I am a good liar after all...

I find myself fake yawning, forcing my eyes to droop low.

"Ok, guys please cut it out. I'm going to bed." I squirm away from the 4 arms encircling my body. "Goodnight." And then I'm scurrying away as fast as I can, not waiting for an answer.