If death didn’t await me when I jumped out my window, I’d do it. I’d risk broken limbs. It was stupid for my parents to put those large decorative stones beneath my room. I exhale loudly into my pillow.My parents.I have two again.What happened to bring her back? How did wishing AIDS never existed make my mother appear?“Lyra! Get up or you’ll be late for school!” my mother yells through the door, though it’s not laced with hate anymore. I hear her footsteps retreat down the stairs.Why, in this reality, is Dad still with her? Why hasn’t he kicked her out?But his mind isn’t in this reality either. He needs just as much help as I do getting through this.This thought is what gets me out of bed. Within ten minutes I’m showered, dressed and heading down the stairs. Even though it took me forever to find my normal clothes. I don’t usually keep my flannels in the back of my closet.Please let her be gone. Please let her be gone.“Lyra, before you run out the door…”Why do I stop and turn around?
