The chaos, the darkness, the shoving in the bathroom, and the fear of the ceiling falling harshly on me came back in a flash, as I woke up on the hospital bed, once again. The memories of that fateful evening attacked me simultaneously.

The images of my parents faces on the TV news went round in circles in my head. I couldn't stop crying because of it. I didn't even get to say goodbye, or tell them that I loved them, and that I was so sorry for acting out the way I did the night before the tornado hit. I hated myself for it. I hated that stupid TV in my hospital room. I hated that stupid news anchor who had to broadcast the information.

Suddenly, the door of my room clicked open and I glanced towards the person entering. It was my blonde nurse, with her thick black glasses, wearing a teal and white uniform. "You're going out today, Melissa." She gently said, closing the door and putting her hands into her teal colored pockets on her teal vest, facing me forwardly. "We called your uncle to come and pick you up." I gave a slight nod. "I'll put you on another IV until he comes to pick you up. Are you in any pain?" She said, going towards my IV to fiddle with it.

I shook my head. Although I was in pain, I hated drugs and medicine, and would rather suffer than take morphine. On another note, hearing that my uncle was going to come and pick me up made me feel a sense of security. Being here was horror, feeling trapped with my dark thoughts, feeling so alone and depressed inside these four walls. I wondered how my uncle was coping with the loss of his brother. Did he even know?

Hoping that my weak voice would work, I tried asking the nurse when my uncle was coming.

"W..." I started saying something, but then stopped. The nurse glanced at me as she put another IV bag onto the instrument that held the bags.

"If there's something you want to say, there's no time like the present." She replied evenly, attaching some tubes into the new IV.

Summoning the strength in my voice to talk, I only managed to muster out a few words at a time. "When is my uncle... coming to get me?" I said, my voice raspy from not being used for a whole week. Who was I going to talk to here, anyway? Myself?

"He will be here later today. It's going to be alright." She assured.

I gave her a nasty, grim look. How was this ever going to be alright?

She seemed to have picked up on my grimace and figured out it was her time to leave. "The tiny cuts on your arms have healed, just try not to pick at the crusts. As for that collarbone, it's healing up nicely as well, but it will take a few weeks until we can be sure it's been fully healed. And try not to use your right arm too much, especially because of the collarbone and the wrist you hurt." She instructed and finished with setting up the IV. Then, just as quietly, she left the room and I was left to my own thoughts, once again.

A couple of long hours later, most probably the time it took my uncle to reach this hospital, the door of my room opened again, and the doctors came inside, bringing me some clothes and helping me to get out of the bed and start walking. I saw my uncle standing outside, just next to the transparent door, looking at my poor physical condition with a poignant face. Once the doctors got me on my feet and left my room, closing the door behind them to ask my uncle to come with them to sign my release papers and whatnot, I got myself dressed and was ready to leave this hell hole.

The moment that I opened the door and set foot outside, I saw the only familiar face looking at me so sadly, and so full of grief. I couldn't hold it in myself anymore. My heart was aching too much.

I ran towards my uncle and crashed into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably into his shirt and brown leather jacket. He hugged me around my back and tried to soothe me, but we both knew it was useless. Both of us were hurting really badly.

The two doctors, my uncle and me, exited the white hospital and started to walk towards an enormous, black, ominous-looking pickup truck. The wind was starting to pick up and it was cold and dark outside. It seemed as if a storm was coming.

The doctors helped me get up into the passenger seat of the truck, as it was so lifted and I had a broken arm that I couldn't move. I thanked the doctors for all their help during my time at the hospital as I tried getting comfortable in the black leather seats.

Just as I closed the passenger door, a bolt of lightning shattered the dark, cloudy night sky. I shot up from my seat in fear, my eyes frantically darting around to find my uncle, who was a safe anchor for me. A few short moments later, little droplets of rain started falling on the windshield. It didn't take long before the rain started getting heavier.

Uncle Will hurried back inside the truck, closing the door behind him as he took off his wet brown leather jacket and threw it at the back of the cab. His right hand reached into the pocket of his jeans, looking for the keys, as he later put them into the key hold and started up the truck. It rumbled to life without error.

Before we started driving, he put the seatbelt on for me, because I couldn't do it myself. Inside the cab was silent, as no words were exchanged between us, and the radio was turned off. The atmosphere was too tense in here, but it seemed that it would stay that way for the duration of the trip back to uncle Will's house.

We drove slowly out of the hospital's driveway and the heating turned on, probably by Will's work. I didn't even bother looking, I just leaned my head on the pillar on the inside of the cab, just above the seatbelt holder. I closed my eyes and tried to relax myself, to ignore the horrible situation for just a little while, enough to just fall asleep. It was going to be a long night, having to travel all the way to uncle Will's home from here.

God, help me...

Many hours later…

By the time I woke up from my nap on the way back to Texas, I noticed how much ground we had already covered. It wouldn't be long until we reached uncle Will's town. I yawned and wondered how he was still able to drive. Driving all the way from his city to the Texas hospital I was in, and now driving back to Nevada was no easy feat. He looked really worn out, though, but how wouldn't he be? It was a two-thousand mile trip to come to Texas and back.

Although, when I looked at him, he didn't see me looking at him. He looked exhausted and sad, but at least he didn't show weakness, such as crying, unlike me. He was Captain, by title, which meant that death was inescapable for him. I always wondered if it ever got easier, the more death you saw.

I looked out the window and sighed. It was raining outside, and it was dark. Everything reminded me too much of it.

Those horrible black skies full of grey clouds, the rain and the pain that came with it. Both emotional, mental and physical. I knew I wouldn't stay sane after this. All my dark thoughts came back to me, telling me to go kill myself.

Why do I live? Is there still some sort of purpose for me and my shitty life? My parents have gone way too soon. I still had so much to learn from them. Who's going to teach me now? I should just go and kill myself already.

My uncle caught me staring out the window and patted my thigh, bringing my attention to him. "Mel, if you ever need to talk, Sarah and I are here."

I nodded and looked away, biting my lip until I could feel the tears form in my eyes. I couldn't help but give a weak, sad sigh, despite the pain in my chest that came with every long and hard exhalation. I was determined that I wasn't going to cry, because I hated being weak. I could feel I was going to be in a horrible mood in the near future, much worse that my usual stubborn, cranky one.

And this darn rain that kept splashing on the windshield and windows only added to the melancholy.

In my opinion, I should have been dead. My parents sacrificed themselves to save me. They pushed me into the bathroom, so selflessly, that they didn't care what happened to them. I should have died with them. I'd be less of a burden that way to Will and Sarah.

After a few moments, we reached my uncle's house. My uncle drove the trunk into the gravel, just off the road, and parked in front of the porch. By the time my uncle turned off the truck and took his and my own seatbelt off, the rain stopped pouring. We sat in silence for a short moment, a moment in which he was debating whether or not to talk to me. Seeing as I still had my back turned towards him, and I was facing the window, looking at the house, he sighed very quietly and exited the truck. I didn't want him to do everything for me in my life, so I started using my left arm. It felt like I was using my left leg as I tried to grab the door handle. It was a very unnatural feeling, using the hand you were not used to doing anything with. I managed to open the door with my left hand and sighed in realization. You never really realize how much you depend on something, until you lose it.

And me? I've lost too much. I've lost my mom, my dad, Buddy… The poor dog…

I pushed the door away and took a step out, forgetting the distance between the ground and the tall truck. I nearly fell flat on my face, but thankfully, my uncle was beside the door and he managed to catch me before I killed myself.

"Hey, you alright?" He asked worryingly, brown eyes darting over my body to check up on me.

I grumbled, irritated with my own incapability, and being because I was embarrassed. "I'm fine."

"Come on, let's get you inside." He put his arm over my shoulder and took me inside the house. It was chilly outside, I noted, as the door of the truck closed behind me. Sarah greeted us at the front door, and just as we set foot inside the house, she hugged me, whispering a soft, "I'm so sorry." I nodded and hugged her back, resisting the urge to cry again. She was so warm and felt so motherly towards me, and that made my throat tighten to the point I couldn't breathe because of the ache.

Cry when you're alone, do not show weakness in front of anyone.

I told myself that almost every time I wanted to cry or break down.

The three of us got into the warm house and Will closed the front door. "Mel, do you want some soup?" Sarah gently asked as we were in the living room, but I shook my head in denial. "Whatever you need," Sarah said, getting to Will as she stood beside him. "We're always here." She said truthfully. I gave a single nod and the faintest hint of a smile, that was everything but a real smile. Afterwards, I walked up the stairs and got into my room, closing the door behind me. I calmly walked over to my bed, taking the pillow and burying my face in it. I screamed into the pillow with such agony, despair, and a heart-wrenching cry for help. For a moment, I thought my vocal chords were going to give out. But I didn't care.

I sobbed into the pillow and mentally thanked Will and Sarah for letting me have some privacy. Hours passed by in the silent house, in which Annabelle cried and was soothed by Sarah, after which she and her husband went to sleep. I laid on the bed silently, the pillow still in my left arm, and contemplated what I would do with my life now. I had nothing here, my whole life was in Texas, not in Nevada.

I tried falling asleep, but couldn't do it. Leaving the bed, I walked towards the window of my room, looking on the outside. The skies were dark and starless. Looking down, I saw the black truck parked outside, taking all the cold and rain on it. It was a pretty big truck, to be honest.

There was nothing else to look at out the window, so I turned around and went for the door. I might as well see what was the time and date, because I lost track of time at the hospital.

I went downstairs and into the kitchen, where a calendar hung from the wall. I flipped the light switch and the room lit up. I squinted, because of the sudden switch in the lighting and I looked at the calendar.

It was November 2nd. When I looked at the clock above the calendar, the time was 02:33 a.m.

It was hard to believe that I was in the hospital for 5 days. Sighing, deciding it was really late and that I should have gone to sleep, I flipped the light switch in the kitchen again, and got back to my room. It felt so clumsy, getting into bed and putting the covers over my body with my left hand.

As a late night thought, I realized that I didn't have clothes to wear. Or underwear, either. I knew Sarah was going to buy me clothes without even asking me, and I was sure as hell I wasn't going to take any it for granted. I'd repay my uncle and aunt for every cent they spent on me. I was just raised that way.

I thought about the date once again, before falling asleep. It wasn't as cold as it was supposed to be in December.

Tomorrow…

Just like I thought last night, today Sarah dragged me to the mall around noon. I never got the whole 'I love malls, shopping, spending the entire day in there pointlessly, going into every store' thing. Usually, when I went to the malls, it was to spend about an hour or two with my best friends and then go home.

But, Sarah had a different mission. It was to buy me clothes and spend at least six hours in the dressing rooms. The only upside in this situation for me was that this made for a good exercise. Obviously, I had to take a shower as soon as I arrived home, because moving around with a cast on my right arm made everything three times harder, and it made me break a sweat from the effort. I had to restrict movement to the right side of my torso, lest I should cause more harm than good.

It took a lot of time, but Sarah and I eventually finished with clothes shopping, consisting of undergarments, socks and casual clothes. We walked back to Sarah's champagne colored Chevrolet Impala, since uncle Will took the truck to work. I believed there was an airbase somewhere around here, and that he was probably working there and fulfilling his military duties.

Once we finally got home, I helped Sarah with the bags and went straight for the bathroom afterwards. I took a shower and washed my hair, finding a comb nearby so I could brush my hair after a week of not doing it myself. I had light brown hair that went over my shoulders and stopped in the middle of my back. It was long and wavy, although now it really seemed like it could use some hair conditioner.

I looked at my face and hands as warm water fell down my body from the shower. My hands and arms were covered with cuts, crusts and bruises, ranging from yellow to purple colors. I cringed at the memories that wanted to surface so desperately.

Don't think about it, Mel.

I sighed and this time, my chest didn't hurt. On the bright side, I was healing. Food would speed things up, if I ate. Since that thing happened, I lost my appetite and forcing myself to eat was more difficult than ever. At breakfast, lunch and dinner, I'd make myself eat just a little, as not to worry Will and Sarah more than necessary. But even I couldn't fake my emotions. And I wouldn't want to anyway. This is not the kind of stuff you fake.

After I finished with my shower, I went into my room, contemplating on my next activity so I wouldn't allow my depressive thoughts to get ahold of me. As it was around seven in the evening now, usually around this time of day, I'd draw or study or go out to play volleyball. Since I couldn't study, draw, or play, I could stare at the ceiling. At least the ceiling wouldn't judge me.

Four weeks later…

It certainly didn't get any easier, the more time that passed. Although, I started talking to uncle Will and aunt Sarah, even telling Annabelle stories sometimes, mostly so she could just fall asleep. Hell, I even started to eat better. Will and Sarah were so positive and supportive, but the term 'parents' was never mentioned. Nor were my parents' names, John and Katy, ever mentioned. But at least the two of them could cry to each other between four walls. I could only cry in my pillow, and it was heartbreaking.

Today, I had an appointment with the doctor, to get the bandaging off my right arm. I was so relieved it was this day, because I couldn't wait anymore. Living and relying solely on my left arm was really difficult. After dressing up, I joined Will and Sarah in the kitchen, who seemed to be discussing something at the moment I came inside.

"Are we going?" I said to Sarah, forcing a teeny-tiny smile so that it didn't look like I was morose, even though I really felt morose.

"I'm taking you." Will said. I have a single, small nod and went for my jacket and deciding to meet Will by the truck, bidding Sarah goodbye on the way out. No matter what I went through, I had to be thankful and I had to be polite. I walked over to the leviathan black truck and tried opening the door, but it was locked. Uncle Will came shortly and the doors unlocked on their own with a clicking sound.

"Jeez, uncle Will, I never thought of you to be this paranoid." I said as I got in the truck, closing the door behind me. It sounded funnier in my head than out loud, I guess.

"What?" He got in as well and put the key in the key holder and started the engine.

Did I have to elaborate everything? "I mean, why do you lock your truck if you live alone on the street and it's a small town." We put the seatbelts around us and began to drive in the direction of the center of the town.

"Lock it? Oh… Yeah, it's better to be safe than sorry." He was a bit nervous, but all I did was shrug slightly, careful not to hurt my right arm, even though the collarbone must have been better now. I noted that it was surprisingly warm in the vehicle, considering the air conditioning wasn't turned on.

We got to the hospital in the center of the town in about 20 minutes, and Will helped me to get out of the truck. I couldn't use my right arm, so Will had to hold me to get me down on the ground safely. We went inside the hospital and waited for my name to be called out. Once they called out my name, we went inside a small room with a bed in it. I sat on the bed and waited for the doctor to come.

We didn't wait too long, as an old man in a white lab coat, who looked like he was around 60 years old, judging by the whiteness of his hair and the wrinkles on his hands, came in and looked at me. I looked at Will, who looked at him. It was silent for a few seconds until the doctor started to talk. "What do we have here, young lady?" He said in a kind voice.

"A broken collarbone." I said lowly. And a shit ton of cuts and bruises and soreness.

"And how'd you do that?" He asked amicably, but his question fell on deaf ears. Tears slightly formed in my eyes as the faces of my parents appeared in my mind, and the fact that I would never see them again hurt me and caused a lot of grief. All the advice that I could have gotten, all the support… but I never will.

My uncle cleared his throat, making the old doctor look at him. I watched with the corner of my eye Will shake his head and the doctor got the hint immediately. He took the bandaging off my right arm and checked over my small cuts.

"Let's just get a scan of your arm so we know we're on safe ground here." The doctor said, and I nodded in return. About an hour of waiting later, the doctors scanned my arm and came back with the black glossy paper with photos of my anatomy.

"What's the verdict?" Will asked the doctors.

The 60 year old doctor examined closely the photos. "It seems good, Mr Lennox. The collarbone seems to have fully healed, which is good. It's been 6 weeks, correct?" He looked to Will, who nodded. "Good. I suggest she tries to do some exercises, because there has also been muscle loss in her right arm. Should she experience a lot of pain, or notices anything out of the ordinary, don't hesitate to schedule an appointment again."

"Thank you, doctor." Will shook his hand as I thanked the doctor too, with a hint of a smile.

Will and I left the hospital and got back into the truck. The ride was silent and I preferred it that way, but my wish was, alas, one-sided. "Mel, I'm sorry." Will said out of the blue.

Why would he, out of all people, be sorry? And what for?

"For what?" I asked quietly, turning my head to look at him.

"The doctor didn't know… I should have told him not to ask." He replied, and tried to hide my cringe. Well of course, how could the doctor know? Maybe they left out the tornado part in the medical records.

"It's… it's okay." I said and looked out the window, once more, trying to divert my thoughts.

After another 10 minutes of driving, we arrived in front of the house. I was finally able to use my right arm, though it really felt like it was less muscular. The feeling was really strange and uncomfortable.

I already saw my uncle rushing to come to my side before I opened the door. Once he opened the door, I spoke to him. "It's okay, I'll manage."

"I know you're a strong girl." He smiled at me, saying it with the best intention. "I'll still be here to make sure you don't fall."

"Thanks." I muttered as I tried descending from the truck, which proved more difficult than I thought, yet I still succeeded.

"Good job." Will said. I really appreciated his kindness. I gave a weak smile as I closed the door behind me. But, as soon as I closed it, my eyes caught the paint of the black truck.

It was covered with mud, leaves, branches, slime, and insects. To say the truck was filthy would be an understatement.

"What?" Uncle Will said, catching my gaze and looking to the truck. "Oh…" He said as realization kicked in.

"What happened to the truck? I don't remember it being this filthy." I know when I entered it, it wasn't this dirty. It looked like it went off-roading while Will and I were in the hospital. Figuratively speaking, of course.

"Maybe I drove into a mud puddle. Who knows." He shrugged and went a couple of steps towards the house, letting the subject linger in the air.

"What do you mean 'who knows'? I thought the truck was yours?" How could he not know something about his own truck?

"It's a military vehicle." He said casually.

"Oh…" I said lowly. But then, in my mind, an idea formed. I needed to use my arm, so... "Can I... Can I wash it?"

He did not expect this, and he turned around to face me. "Why?"

"It'd give me something to do... and I have to get my right arm working." I shook my right arm slightly, to indicate just how limp it was against my side. I felt like I had two left arms, for God's sake.

He seemed to think about it for a moment, before sighing. "If you want, then sure. Use this sunny day." He said with a smile.

"Maybe tomorrow though…" I said as an afterthought. "I don't want to hurt myself on the first day just yet." He chuckled as we entered the house together, and I grabbed an apple from kitchen with my right hand, somehow feeling slightly better when the bandage was off. I didn't want to eat the apple, it was just the fact that Sarah was watching me and she knew I didn't eat anything, so I did this for the sake of not worrying either of them.

As I got up the stairs and into my own bedroom, putting the apple on the bedside table, and got into my PJs. So... Tomorrow, I'm going to bother myself with washing a big black truck. What else could I do? I lost everything I used to call home. I might as well die washing the truck.

And then it hit me.

Death.

I sniffed as tears started to form and I easily cried myself to sleep. I had to turn the other side of the pillow before completely falling asleep, for this side was soaked and cold.