My Fault

Dreams

The small, white puffballs floated through the air and swooshed right around me. The sky was an incredibly blue, and the clouds were so close. Where was I? There was no one around to answer my question, so I slowly stepped forward. For some reason I couldn’t look at the ground. Something stopped my head from doing so. Just then four figures appeared. They were so bright, and it caused me to shield my eyes with my arms. After a few seconds I peeked through and noticed the figures had gotten dimmer. I stood in disbelief when I noticed who they were.

“Mom? Dad? Georgie? Jenny? Oh my gosh!” I said and tried running towards them, but something held me back and I couldn’t move at all.

They looked angry. Even the little ones had their arms crossed over their chests. Why were they so angry? Was this what heaven looked like? Was I dead?

“You killed us.” My mom hissed.

I was completely shocked by her words. “It was an accident! I am so sorry! I know it’s my fault! Please don’t be angry at me.” I cried.

“You murdered your sweet brother and sister, and then us. How could you, Lylah? We did everything we could for you. We loved you.” My dad said.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Dad, mom, I didn’t mean to! I never knew it would happen. I feel so bad, don’t you understand? I miss you guys so much! Please don’t hate me!” I said, practically begging them now.

“No, Lylah. You a meanie. I can’t believe you killed us.” Georgie said.

“Yeah. You no longer our sister.” Jenny this time.

Pain struck me like a lightning bolt. Their words hurt so much. Way more than physical pain could ever do.

“Bye, Lylah.” They all said in unison.

Just then I felt myself falling from the clouds.

I sprang up in my bed and looked around, frantic. It was just a dream. Just a dream.

I recalled everything that happened. I remembered it so vividly, like it actually went on. Tears formed in my eyes as I remembered the words they used. They were so hurtful, and seemed to be said with complete truthfulness. I could feel my heart actually ache. They were right. I killed them. It was all my fault. I was a horrible daughter. A horrible sister.

A knock on my door cut off my thoughts. “Lylah! Breakfast!” It was Johnny.

I cleared my throat a little before speaking. “I’m not hungry.” I called out, then looked towards the doorknob and felt a little better when I saw that the lock was turned.

“Lylah, come on. Mrs. Bloom made breakfast casserole.” He informed me.

My stomach turned inside of me. I felt sick. One of those sicknesses that were caused by guilt. “I said I’m not hungry!” I yelled even louder now.

Johnny didn’t say anything back, so I guessed he walked away. I didn’t feel good at all. I quickly pushed off the covers and ran into the bathroom. My head was now above the toilet seat and I was puking. I felt so disgusting and my throat burned.

When everything that needed to get out was finally out, I flushed the toilet and grabbed the perfume on the counter then sprayed it. After I set it back down, I leaned my back against the wall stared ahead of me. My family hated me, I knew it. I slammed my fist against the wall behind me. “It’s all my fault.” I hissed to myself, and slammed my fist again.

I was so angry that I didn’t realize the damage I was doing until the red liquid caught my eye. I had re-opened the scabs that I caused on my knuckles from punching the trees a while ago. I didn’t care though. I deserved this. The pain and hurt that I felt everyday was my punishment for killing my parents. If I had been more careful then I wouldn’t be in this situation.