“MOM, I GOT IT. I GOTTA GO. BYE” I slam the door a little harder than I intended, ma looked back at me while I cringed as I walked away after that bang-I knew she’d come after me if it was on purpose. After half an hour of trying to locate my keys, it made for a spiteful morning. I mean, how do they get under my bed? Anyway, stomping my feet, walking to my car, I shove down my backpack, phone, keys, and cup all at once. Car on, music on, sip of coffee, car go. The drive to school is supposed to be 4 minutes, but traffic turns that into 15. 

The school days go by slower and slower every day, if even possible. My friends help though. Sea View High is the biggest public school in Portland, and my house is on the same road, just down further. Everyone knows I live there, which calls for an entertaining social life. You probably think I throw ragers all the time, blowing up my parents' mansion house with liquor loud music and inappropriate things. Well… noyou think wrong! My house is a compressed, 3 story cozy bungalow house, and I could never have enough room to fit all my friends, let anyone half of them. I like having those problems,problems though, because I went so long being alone. I worked hard to get where I am on the social hierarchy, & no matter how much these things matter or not, I like having a lot of friends. I need to know people care about me. 

I live with my little sister, Phoenix, and parents. My grandpa died a couple of months back, -pneumonia complications- and there will now forever be that weird hole feeling in each one of us. My grandma is the glue now, because my dad’s been emotionally unavailable since 5th grade and my mom checked out after grandpa. Phoenix is a freshman, and I’m a senior. I’m basically her mother. Today I didn’t have to wait for her in the parking lot though because she stayed home from getting sick overnight. It was super unusual, she was fine and ready to finish off the week but woke up with a 104104 degree fever and puking up blood. 

Phoenix has been in the hospital since 7am this morning. My head is like black trails of barbed wire are following every thought that crosses my mind. I heard her up at 4; I went back to sleep, but I should have stayed awake and gotten up to help. Waves of guilt flood down each skin cell, from hair follicles to toenails. I am cancelling my plans for this weekend, I just feel like the world can wait. 

This time slamming the door, I swiftly whip in, and the clock to the right slipped off the crooked shelf rushing past my peripheral vision, smashing to the floor. Surprised it didn't break, I picked it up.  The time read 4 o’clock-right when Phoenix started puking-funny. My stomach starts to turn sideways, I need to find mom. 

“Hey, look at how weird this is Ma,” I walk around the house until she meets me in the middle, “it stopped like right when she started getting sick.” She doesn’t even look up from the blank wall stare. 

“Oh, uh yeah, I guess so.” She barely moves her lips as she forces out a dry response to get me to leave her alone. A stab to my chest, a zing in my heart but not the good kind, she always knows how to hurt when I think the damage is done. I don’t even think she means to at this point, but maybe that’s what stings, too. She just doesn’t care, and not even enough to try.

In my room, I find that more things than just my keys are missing. My water bottle, sunglasses, and charger are all gone. I blame the dog first, or perhapsmaybe Phoenix took them. All I know is that my mom better not be touching my stuff. She likes to think we share simply because we’re related.

I spent the entire afternoon searching for my things, and the only thing it led me to was my nearest Panda Express for some whitewashed Chinese food. I also made a stop to Target, I got my new things and even a couple fruits and snacks for the house since mom isn’t going to eat unless forced. Other than that, her diet consists of fermented grape juice. Dad on the other hand, downs 3 cheeseburgers and two orders of fries within 15 minutes, if he decides to come home that night. All I can think about is going to sleep and forgetting about everything for a while. 

My plan for the night backfired. I couldn’t sleep at all, and when I did, I only had nightmares about Phoenix. Stumbling out of bed to wash my face, my legs are deathly sore. I take a look in the mirror, raising my pant legs, to find bruises are everywhere. My jaw drops. Jeez, what did I do in my sleep? When did I get hurt? I spend theuse up my morning examining each one and their potential cause, but nothing is coming to mind. I give up, assume I have low iron, and make my way downstairs to play my role as a 30-year-old woman who lives by herself. Phoenix comes back from the hospital today, they can’t figure out what's wrong, so they’re sending her home with antibiotic medicine. Of course, ma isn’t going to clean the house or cook anything, and dad wasn’t even in that realm of possibility. Chores are a thing of history to him. I hate doing things for them, especially because it’s like I never got a childhood; I am always acting as mom, keeping track of the responsibilities.

I think I underestimated how long it’s been since anyone cleaned. Everything is in different places, broken, or just gone. Which is weird considering how much I do it… & I swear, I just put my phone down on the counter next to me. Are mom and dad messing with me? There’s no way they’re sly enough to pull off those heists. First, the shiny kitchen knives have moved from one end of the counter to the other. Then the creaky old brown coat rack is in the living room, and not next to the front door. “Guys, why the hell are you rearranging the house?!” I yell in my parent's direction, hoping I’ll hear a direct response in the coming seconds. 

“We haven’t touched anything, Mo!” Dad projects back from his man cave. “Maybe the wind!” Even when he’s not the best dad, he still cracks those jokes. But I’m not really in the mood right now.

“Well stop!” I sharply shout. My blood is starting to boil, my heart is contracting, my skin feels tough. Why is he making jokes now, at the worst time to be enthusiastic. I’m glad I have to go pick up Phoenix because they had more of their special diet for breakfast and lunch, and I don’t want to be around for dinner. 

As we get close toOn the drive home, Phoenix starts to revert to the state she was in two days ago. “Mona, pull over! Now!” I swerve to the right, bump the sidewalk, and immediately she thrusts her body forward while her left arm swings open the car door. For 5 minutes I hear burping and splashing onto concrete. Frantically, I look for my water bottle and hand it to her to use as mouthwash until we get back to the house. If we turn around, the hospital will just send us back home. I decide we should get her in bed and have her take the medicine so she can sleep at home. 

I have to carry her inside, as she’s too weak to get in by herself. When we walk in the door, all the power shuts off. This is escalating to something bad, fast, and I can feel it. After making it in the frame, the door slams. 

“Mona! You know how I feel about that door!” 

Dad chimes in after, “and what happened to the TV?” I can understand why they would think that was me, but oh my god, it wasn’t. My heart rate gets faster. Jeez, can they get off their asses and help figure out what the problem is? I can’t do this alone. 

I can’t do this alone. “Mom! Dad! Please help!” I scream out for them, I can’t carry her upstairs by myself, in the dark and hold her puke can up. All of a sudden, my issue disappears because the can flew out of my grip and across the room, breaking my family’s picture frame made by grandpa. I audibly scream bloody murder while glass hits the floor. What in the actual hell is going on. Terrified, I increase my speed up the stairs, careful to not drop Phoenix. I swiftly turn the corner and place her in her bed, but it triggered something. I yell for my parents again. It looks as if she’s seizing, and I don’t know what to do. Standing there, frozen, only having the ability to stare at my baby sister in which every part of her body is shaking while her eyes roll to the back of her head. Mom and dad finally rush in, and snap out of their zone. We all scream at each other wondering what to do, connecting the dots of moving objects, and calling 911, but don’t realize how Phoenix is nowhas transitioned to hurling black liquid. More screaming from all of us, and Phoenix is in real pain. As soon as the black energy clears from her esophagus, she flops down without any sign of consciousness. Silence. We all just stare for a solid 10 seconds until I gather the courage to step towards her. “Phoenix…?” I mumble, scared to trigger something new. But something is wrong. “Hey. Phoenix if you’re joking around, this isn’t funny, okay wake up!” I’m getting a little more aggressive. I grab her forearm, grip it tight, and gently but firmly shake, until I see it drop back in dead weight. No. She can’t be. This can’t be it! 

“Phoenix, baby, wake up please, we need to give you medicine.” mom repeats my actions with tear filled eyes, and falls to the ground helpless. “NOOO!” she and dad wail in the most heart-wrenching sound you have ever heard. I put my weight onto the wall I’m sanding against, and I can physically feel my heart cracking, splitting, and shattering. The pieces fall into my stomach, cut up all of my intestines, and plague my body with yet another soul crushing heartbreak. I slide to the floor. My gut harvests a black hole, a vicinity so big it takes over my entire soul, and leaves no room for stitching. I am becoming increasingly angry at the world. Why her. What exactly happened and how? What did she feel? Where is she now? What are we supposed to do? How am I going to live? Every thought swirling in front of my forehead at the same time, the realization that I will never get to see her smile again, hear her laugh, yell at her for taking my clothes, it all hits and I run to the bathroom to puke my own guts out for hours.