My Family

I didn't wear his ring because he and his partner said they were in love with me.

As confusing and surprising as it was, I didn't doubt it. Even despite the fact that they were together- a couple.

I didn't wear his ring because I didn't have one on my own. I still don't know why I was even with them. I wasn't even technically a part of their little "club", per say; even if I wore the uniform and went to their little "meetings", or whatever you want to call them. I sometimes even participated in different activities they performed.

I didn't wear his ring because I loved him. For one, at the moment, I'm not even sure I know the correct definition of love. Is it the yearning for the person? Is it wanting to show the person affection and for it to be returned? Is it risking your life for the other person…? The answers to these questions leave me confused. Because if the answers are yes to those questions, then I love all of them. But, being in love with a person? What's the difference?

And for two, I don't have the right to love any of them. I'm a burden on them, even if they tell me I'm not so.

I didn't wear his ring because I felt obligated to. Just because he told me he loved me first and gave me a very blunt indication that I was important to him doesn't mean I have to wear it.

I didn't wear his ring because he was dead and I was to replace him. I could never replace him, or his partner.

I didn't wear his ring because they made me, because they didn't.

I didn't wear his ring because they told me he asked them if they could give it to me or his partner before he died. His partner had the ring, and his partner died. So instead of giving it to a new member, they gave it to me because he requested it.

I'm sitting in a classroom with fellow students listening to our teacher lecture about something or another. I can barely pay attention. I don't want to pay attention.

I've been sitting in class every day of the week and doing nothing on the weekends. I've been a good girl and did my school work and homework and took notes. I have been doing this for months but nothing changes.

I keep the ring on my body at all times, whether it be on my thumb or forefinger (because it's too big for my other fingers), or I set it on the desk to keep an eye on it.

Although I was gone for weeks at a time, then would show up randomly with all the schoolwork I've missed and take my tests and pass everything, no one thought it was weird. No one asked where I was. My friends acted like everything was normal. No one missed me.

The ring is worn and the metal is wearing down to show the copper beneath it, and that makes me smile and chuckle to myself. The leader of the group didn't care that he got cheap rings, as long as they got them.

Class was over and I had to head home to my normal life doing normal things.

There was this movie that was the group's favorite; I forget the name. But, in the movie, there was this character who went into dreams and had a token of sorts that he could use to differentiate between reality and dreams. I guess this ring is the same for me. For me, it means everything was real.

It means that everything happened really happened. It means most of the group is dead. It means I was sent back because it was too dangerous for me, I guess. It means I'm safe and alive and that everything will be okay.

I wear the ring, even though I would rather have all of them, but especially his and his partner's.

While I was still there, I had a habit of getting into fights with some of the members. We would have conflicting views and go at it with each other. I was irritated and started fights; I and the other person would usually have short tempers.

When it got too bad, I ran into the nearest room- usually his and his partner's. I had three hiding places: the clothes hamper, the closet, and under the bed. I was sure that when they found out that they would give me to the member that I had gotten in trouble with. But they didn't; they actually chuckled at me and made it so that when I hide in my secret places that I would be utterly undetectable and I would feel safe and would calm down; all I had to do is close my eyes. Even when I opened them, I would feel safe, but it intensified when I closed my eyes. I don't know why they did. They just did.

I was safe as long as I was in my hiding places in their room. It actually got to the point where they would let me wear their cloaks; the blonde and his redheaded partner. I don't know why.

I don't know why they let me crawl into the bed they shared when I had nightmares either. They didn't even try anything perverted. They just held me together, letting me cry and talk about my nightmares and fall asleep with them. They weren't even mad when I woke up before them and kissed their cheeks, or walked around in their clothes when mine were getting washed or when I wasn't feeling well.

I don't know what any of them felt about me, truly- only the blonde and the redhead ever said anything, and maybe the blue-haired girl. The fishman and the others never said anything out right, but actions speak louder than words, right?

So I guess that's why I think they liked me, or at least cared for me.

Fishman made me sushi every weekend, because I told him I liked sushi. He always made sure there was a smiley face in soy sauce. His partner brought me a daisy- my favorite flower- every time they came home from a long trip. His partner said that one day, he could take me to a field where they grow wild, if I'd like. The leader let me stay, which says enough. But when I asked him if he could have everyone sit at a table for meals, he agreed and even threatened members that didn't comply.

One of the scarier members backed me up in a fight; his partner did too. They even threatened to kill them over me. Plantman taught me how to garden and we grew a garden together. Blue taught me some Japanese, did my hair, and taught me how to sew and french braid my hair. She taught me different lullabies that she learned when she was a baby that her mother sang to her and eventually started to call me her little sister.

I don't know why they even bothered talking to me, but they did. The years I spent with them made me and each member grow closer. Some of them even were out of character around me.

But that was all before they started dying off and before I was sent back.

I don't know why they learned English for me or helped me with my homework- or even how they undersoond my homework.

I don't know why the fought for me or why my favorite pair died for me. I don't know why any of them had to die. I don't know why they let me stay. I don't know why they would do any of this.

I didn't wear his ring because I felt obligated. I don't wear the blonde's ring because they made me.

I wore it because I felt safe. I wore it because through everything that was going on in the real world, I had them to make me feel better. I got to know them; like, really got to know them.

His ring was the only thing I had anymore.

And without the ring, I feel like it was all a delusion; a sweet, sweet delusion.

Because with the ring, I could close my eyes and I would be hiding in their closet again, waiting for them to come find me and tell me it's okay like they always did.

But they won't be coming for me and telling me it's okay; that I'm safe with them, they pinky promise. Because they're dead and they can't be revived this time, and they can't come for me.

And so, I close my eyes with the ring on, and I'm safe and okay for a little bit. I'm happy and I'm okay, even if it's for a little bit. And, when I open my eyes and I still feel that lulling sense of comfort, I know I will cry and feel sick to my stomach. I know I will be so upset to the point where I throw up everything I've tried to eat that day.

My safe places are gone. My family is gone and they won't be coming back for me.

But as long as I have his ring, I know it'll be okay. I know I'll be safe, because they loved me. They did their magic thing on the ring like they did with my hiding places.

They did it because they didn't know if they would live or not, and if they didn't, they made sure that I was going to be okay, because they pinky promised. Even in death, they were making sure I was safe.

So I know I'll be okay, even if I can't go a day without running to any bathroom or into my own closet and sobbing because I know I can't go back and I know they won't come for me to tell me I'll be okay. No matter how many times I've screamed and wished

Deep down, I think I knew the answer to the questions of why they did what they did and what I felt for all of them.

They were my family. We took care of each other. They loved me until they died and made sure I was going to be okay when they left.

And I..

I loved them.

I loved each and every one of them, even if they were murderers and we got into fights that nearly killed us. I loved them.

I wear his ring because I loved them and I miss them unbelievably so.

I wear his ring because they promised that they would make sure I was okay and safe, and I want to make them proud. I want them to have kept their promise.

So even if it hurts to even breathe without them, I'll be okay for them. I will try my hardest to stay okay, out of trouble, and safe, for them.