I'm sitting in the living room, nervously waiting until my parents return. They promised to get me that beautiful acoustic guitar I saw online. They left this morning, but normally they would've been home already. I'm pacing through the room, playing with my hands. I haven't got a message either. Normally if they get home later than promised, they call me to let me know.

Time passes by without a phone call from my parents and the nerves are filling my body even more now. Where are they? All sorts of doom scenarios are going through my mind, but I need to stay positive. Suddenly the doorbell rings and my nerves escalate even higher now. My parents never ring the doorbell. I slowly make my way to the front door and open the door, but I regret it immediately when I see two policemen standing in front of me.

,,Rebeca Mitchell?" I cringe at my full name and can only nod, trying to prepare myself for this news. My feeling tells me it's not something good they're going to tell me. ,,I'm terribly sorry to tell you this, but your parents got into a car accident." The ground under my feet seems to fade away. ,,A truck driving through a red light, crashed head-on into the passenger side. Your mother died instantly. Your father survived the crash," I let out a relieved breath, but the policemen aren't done yet. ,,the paramedics at the scene resuscitated him several times, but to no avail. I'm sorry but he died from his injuries." Hearing that makes me fall to my knees. It's my fault! They died because they were buying that acoustic guitar for me. They were on the road because of me! Tears are flowing from my eyes and one of the policemen tries to comfort me. They carefully take me to the couch and give me a glass of water, while giving me the acoustic guitar and telling me that they found it unharmed in the trunk of my parents car. It's even in a nice case. I burst into tears, just as my aunt comes into the room as well. She doesn't say anything and just asks the policemen what is going to happen now.

,,Ms. Mitchell," They start but I see my aunt shake her head and stop the policemen.

,,I'm not Mitchell." She says with disgust in her voice. ,,I'm Ms. Walp, her mother's sister."

,,Well, Ms. Walp. I'm sorry for your loss." She waves him away, which makes him look at me now. I nod in acknowledgement, because I'm happy that he says that. The nice policeman sits across from me, only looking at me, since he can see that I'm the most affected by this news.

,,So, the first order of business is probably the most gruesome. We need you to come to the morgue and identify the bodies." He tells me.

,,What?" My eyes widen and I look between the officer and my aunt, who's probably here to take me with her. My mother put her in her will as my godmother.

,,It's standard procedure. We need someone to claim them." Claim them. It sounds like they're a piece of luggage that got left at the airport. Now the officer goes through the details of the night, what they suspect happened at the scene, everything. ,,We should have you identify them as soon as possible, that way we can get them transported and you can start on funeral arrangements." His words feel like a kick in the gut. Of course I have to plan the funeral, but I have no idea how to do that. ,,I'm sorry if that seems harsh, I'm just doing my job."

,,No, I know. I get it. Can we go now?" He nods and follows us outside. He gets into his car, leaving me and my aunt alone. My aunt tells me to get in the car, so she can drive to the morgue and I obey. When we get there, the whole process that we have to do takes much longer than we thought it would. There is paperwork and we hear my parents will, before the dreaded moment comes. An officer leads us to a window. There's a woman in a lab coat looking at a computer. He knocks twice to make her look up. Her facial expression isn't overly burdened; it's clear she does this all the time. She moves over to one of the tables. I haven't noticed the body shaped lumps underneath the stark white sheets until my hands fall on the edge of one.

,,Are you ready?" The officer asks. I can't speak and just nod. I don't take my eyes off the sheet. It's smaller than the other so I know that when it's lifted it will be her face. I take a sharp inhale but it all still seems to dissipate when my mother's lifeless form is exposed. Tears drop down my cheeks, my hands are shaking and I feel like I'm about to pass out. ,,Ms. Mitchell, is that Sheila Walp?"

,,Y-yes, that's her." I'm hoping more than anything to feel my aunt's hand against my back, since Sheila was her sister, but that hand isn't coming. The officer nods and the sheet is placed gently back over her face. The medical examiner moves to the table beside it and they follow the same procedure. This time, it's a much longer pause. I can't move. I don't want to see him, not like this. But I still nod. When the sheet is lifted I affirm that it's my father as quickly as possible. I don't want my gaze to linger. I don't want this image of my father to be the one I'm left with. The sheet is pulled back over his head.

,,Thank you, Ms. Mitchell. You did exceptionally well." The officer says and leads us back into the waiting room. I suddenly feel sick and rush out the main doors. I push my hands against the brick wall, welcoming the coolness against my blazing skin. My aunt follows me outside.

,,That was very hard." She tells me and then she ushers me into her car. We drive away from the morgue and I think we're going to her house, but I'm wrong as we come to a stop at the tiny house my father bought to get away from his busy life. ,,Just because my sister died, doesn't mean I will take you into my house. You can stay here and just stay out of my way. Oh and that bank account your parents left you… I won't let you be in charge of that until you're eighteen. Now, here are the keys to this tiny house because your lousy father left you this too, and get out of my car." I don't care anymore and so I do what she tells me. Just as I'm walking towards the tiny house, my aunt drives away quickly and I can only think: "Wait until I'm eighteen, then I'm coming for my money!", before going inside the house.