Whisper of Broken Things

Chapter 1: A Dream Best Forgotten

Updated 10/24/2018

Prologue

People die every day. That's what I tell myself to keep the nightmares from smothering me when I'm awake. But, I have no line of defense to suppress the nightmares when I go to sleep. No matter what I do, I can't protect myself from the horror in my memories and, unfortunately, my subconscious doesn't sugarcoat the bad things.

The worst part is not being able to tell the difference between nightmare and reality. Other people can wake from a nightmare and shake it off. Me, I wake up and it's as if the nightmare never ended. I patch it with bandages and stitches that never quite take hold. It's enough to get me through the day, but I'm still broken.

I know I'm broken. And patching up my pain doesn't fix it--doesn't make it disappear--doesn't make it any less real.

I survived. While the rest of my family lies buried in the cold, hard and unforgiving earth, I'm still here. That's lucky, you say? Luck has nothing to do with it. Human nature and my body's will to survive are why I'm here today.

And I'm glad. I don't want to die; I never wanted to die.

I won't lie. I had imagined a moment like the one that destroyed my family. I'm not proud of it. But, that doesn't make me a bad person. Just because you imagine something terrible happening to you, doesn't mean you actually want it to happen. I'm sure the thoughts have crossed your mind before, too. Maybe even right now the terrible thoughts are poisoning your mind and making you feel guilty.

But it isn't real for you--it hasn't actually happened.

In the midst of a tragedy, people like to say, "I never thought something like this could happen to me," or "I can't believe it happened to me." As if it only ever happens on the news or pretend on a screen. We dissociate ourselves from the bad things, until we can't anymore.

After what happened to me, I understand why people push their pain away. We want to return to who we were--dissociate like we used to. Then the bad stuff isn't real. But...

Life is ugly. Bad things happen. People die.

I wish the words made me feel better. I wish I could forget the details and summarize what happened with those three short phrases. Maybe then I could finally move on instead of reliving it all when I close my eyes... feeling the same pain when I open them again.

Still, there are some nightmares you just can't shake off in the morning.

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Saturday April 20, 2012 8:30 P.M.

"Why can't I go out?!" Miranda whined.

"You know we've been planning family night all week long. We're staying in and watching a movie as a family." Her dad replied firmly.

"Da-ad," she dragged out the word. "Please!"

"No. You can't make plans without asking first and especially not when we have family time planned. End of discussion, Miranda."

"Whatever," Miranda grumbled quietly.

Dad gave her a stern stare.

"Just go put your pj's on and tell your brother and sister to head to the movie room. Your mother and I will be down in a few minutes."

As Miranda stomped down the hall to Jason's room, Dad smiled. He'd won the battle for now, but the real war would continue tomorrow.

Miranda wasn't exactly mad. She didn't actually want to go out; she was just upset as to why she couldn't go out. Her parents never let her do anything spur of the moment and they always had to know who she was hanging out with. For once, she wanted to be able to tell them where she was heading and just be able to go, no further questions asked.