prologue.

I THOUGHT MY LIFE WAS ENTIRELY FUCKED A FEW MONTHS AGO. But now I'm in really deep shit. If my life was fucked up months ago, what the hell is it now? Catastrophic? Obliterated? Anni-fucking-hilated? A few months ago, I was stuck in a private school, separate from my sister with strangers I did not know. I broke a tiny little rule, partied too hard, and damaged a few friendships but now I've damaged my leg.. my arm, probably my knee, and more.

I was sitting in a hospital bed. Staring at the wall with tears feeling my eyes. My youngest sister standing beside me, but not my oldest. And my uncle. Both of them standing beside my bed. I couldn't look at them, I didn't want to. Jackie was on the complete verge of tears. I couldn't turn my head to look at her, I mean it's not like I had a choice I couldn't feel my neck.. or my arm.. or anything really.

We all sat in silence, each lost in our thoughts, until I finally mustered the courage to ask. I turned my head slightly, trying to gauge their reactions as I whispered, "Are they dead?" My uncle and youngest sister looked up at me, their expressions somber and wordless. Before I could repeat myself, my voice shaking, "Are they all dead?"

The silence amplified my anxiety, my breaths growing heavy, tears flowing freely. "Mari-" My uncle started, but I cut him off, needing an answer urgently. Jackie covered her face and left quietly, unable to face the question. I sobbed uncontrollably, the sound muffled in the quiet room.

I didn't know how loud I was crying, just that grief overwhelmed me, threatening to consume me. Suddenly, Jackie was beside me, holding me close, and we wept together, our tears mingling in shared sorrow, while our uncle silently observed. All we had at that point was each other.

The girl hadn't kept track of how long she'd been in the hospital afterward. To her, it felt like years, though it had only been a few months. Physically, her recovery was quicker than expected, but mentally, she remained adrift. Before she realized it, she stood silently in her bedroom, surveying its emptiness, even more stark now that she was packing.

Mariana hadn't shed a tear since the first day she woke up in the hospital. That day marked the last time she cried. Now, she stared blankly into space, devoid of emotion. She focused on a poster on her wall for over three minutes before ripping it down effortlessly, and crumpling it into a garbage bag. Moving to her desk, she gathered a few items, tossing them into boxes.

She pulled a few photos out of her desk, silently studying them until she heard the door open. Quickly, she turned to see her sister walking in. "Do you need any help?" Jackie asked, standing by the door, watching Mariana scatter the pictures into a box as if they were meaningless.

Mariana shrugged. "I only have a few things left. You can help if you want." Jackie nodded and joined her at the desk, gathering items together. Bit by bit, they drew closer to packing up the entire room until nothing remained. Jackie sat quietly on the bed while Mariana pocketed her phone.

"Are you okay?" Jackie finally ventured. Mariana looked up slowly.

"Are you?"

Jackie made a thoughtful sound and shrugged, prompting a similar response from Mariana. They exchanged a small smile, Mariana adjusting her skirt before sitting beside her sister.

They sat together in silence, a familiar state for them. It had been easier with Mom or Lucy around-despite their differences, they offered different perspectives. Jackie was open to trying Colorado, but Mariana wanted nothing to do with it. Mariana's stubbornness often led to arguments between them.

Comforting each other had always been a challenge. Mariana never felt adept at it; she didn't know how to console anyone. Instead, she gently took hold of Jackie's hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

"I got you," she said silently.

"I got you too," Jackie responded softly.