I showered then went to bed earlier than usual last night. Partly because Gerard insisted I needed rest, but I would've anyway, really. I was completely drained of energy (especially after forcing myself into an intense 10 minute workout type-thing in the privacy of my own bedroom).

I dove deeper into my own head than ever before during my shower, and when I surfaced the feeling that I was drowning didn't end.

I was drowning in thoughts that popped up for seemingly no reason.

I'm stupid.

I'll never be good enough.

I'm a burden.

I should never have been adopted.

Drowning in voices that were all too quick to confirm my suspicions.

You're worthless, Evelyn. Unlovable. It's only a matter of time before Gerard gives up on you. You're causing too much trouble.

And last, but certainly not least, the most prominent thought of all:

Fat.

The only thing keeping me afloat has been the goal weight I've set for myself. It's fast approaching now, and soon I'll be lighter than air. Unable to drown.

Gerard is still clueless. He doesn't know I get by on a single meal a day— if that. The only other thing filling my stomach being endless glasses of cold water, maybe the occasional cup of tea. He doesn't know I manage fifty sit-ups daily, and spend less time sitting still than I do paying attention in class. He doesn't know I use the notebook he gave me for my birthday to log all this stuff and to write poems inspired by the darkest depths of my mind.

He doesn't know, Frank doesn't know, Mikey doesn't know, and neither does Ray. And they never will.

I don't care if it kills me.

When I pull back the curtains in my room, a Thursday morning has never looked more depressing. Freezing rain barrels down, and the roads look like a collision waiting to happen.

I check my phone like I do almost every morning, and see I have an alert: School is cancelled. The roads are too dangerous. I also have a message from Ray wondering how I am after what happened yesterday. He left pretty quickly after bringing me home.

I text him a simple, I'm okay, then set my phone down again before taking my notebook from my nightstand. The first thing I wrote in it was a copy of the poem from that night in the hotel. Title: When?

I flip through the pages before I land on something I wrote at about two in the morning only a few days ago. Title: Stick Thin Barbie Dolls

She could've been a happy kid

One with bright eyes, big smiles, and rosy cheeks

Who wanted nothing more than for school to be out for the day

So that she could stay home and play

But class doesn't stall for jump ropes and stick thin Barbie dolls

And still, it didn't stall when she was a young preteen

Seeing posters, and billboards, and magazines

And her so called "friends" told her that cake was something she didn't need to eat

We were all at risk of "type-whatever" diabetes

And still, it didn't stall when the stick thin Barbie dolls were packed away and the jump rope was out and used everyday

She was such a lonely teenager

Dark eyes, cracked lips, hollow cheeks

But those things were easily overlooked when that nicknamed "freak" from childhood now had a valley between her hip bones

Oh, she could've been a happy kid

The bottom of that page has a single tear stain next to my name which I signed shakily. Evelyn Maia. I've looked up the meaning of my name before. "Evelyn; a name meaning Life."

"Maia; in Greek mythology, a daughter of Atlas and Pleione, the mother of Hermes."

I don't know what to make of that. I'd say it's ironic, that I should be radiating beauty. But life isn't beautiful, is it?

I flip to the next blank page and write the date at the top. 12/02/06 (December 2nd, 2006). Then, I chew the cap of my pen subconsciously as I decide what to write next. I have no motivation to write a poem or anything, but print in small, neat letters: "green tea."

I slide out of bed and go to the bathroom where I weigh myself, take note of the number, then get dressed. I put an oversized hoodie on, black leggings, and a pair of thick, fuzzy socks. I just let my hair do whatever it wants.

Finally, I leave my room quietly. Before even reaching the bottom of the stairs I see that Gerard is on the couch, watching the news or something, but not really watching because he has a sketch pad in hand.

"Morning, Eve," he says without looking up.

"What are you doing up already?" I ask. It's not even 7AM.

"Woke up and couldn't get back to sleep." He shrugs. "School's cancelled, you know?"

"Yeah. I know," I reply simply then go to the kitchen to make my tea. When it's done, I ignore the burning heat of the mug in my hands, then go to the living room as the announcer on TV starts speaking. "Breaking news; a fatal collision has happened early this morning just outside Belleville, New Jersey."

Both mine and Gerard's eyes snap up to the television screen.

"We can confirm four people were killed in the accident, and three were left severely injured. The victims," A picture pops up at those words. I barely hear my mug smash on the floor at my feet.

In a split second, before the announcer can even get another word in, Gerard grabs the remote and turns the TV off.

But I saw.

"Eve," he starts, quickly setting his sketch book to the side, and standing up. I'm staring at the now black screen, the image I saw still fresh in my mind.

"No," I mumble.

"Evelyn," he says gently.

"No," I repeat myself, louder this time. Gerard starts toward me, but he's in his socks and the tea and shards of ceramic on the floor around me stop him like a wall. My voice is lacking any emotion when I say, "This isn't real. It's not real."

I almost believe what I'm saying, but I could never mistake Rosa Miller's little face for another. Or Micah's goofy grin standing next to her. Or even Mr. and Mrs. Miller with their hands on their children's shoulders proudly and their serious smiles staring directly at the camera.

Four people were killed.

"Kiddo, I'm so sorry," he says, but I shake my head. No words even leave my mouth before I turn around and head up to my room. I make it there, and shut the door, then collapse onto my bed before Gerard knocks lightly and comes in after me.

I feel my bed dip a little when he sits next to me. "I- I don't understand. They're not... gone. They can't be," my voice breaks.

He just pulls me into a hug and lets me cry.

I feel guilty.

I feel guilty because these were the first people I ever considered anything close to family. I spent two fucking years with them and as soon as I left the place I completely stopped thinking about them. Even Rosa.

Well, I'm thinking about them now.

"Th-they can't be d-d—" I cry into Gee's shirt.

"Shhh, Eve," he holds me tighter. "I know. I know it hurts, but it's all gonna be okay."

I told Rosa that all the time. When she'd wake up screaming because of nightmares, I made her say it with me. When she'd crawl into my bed on stormy nights, I'd whisper it to her until she fell asleep. When Micah was being loud or when he got hurt, I looked straight into her big brown eyes and reminded her. It's all gonna be okay.

I lied.

"No, n-no it- it's not. Nothing's okay... nothing is okay. Th-this isn't fair. It's not fair," I ramble between sobs.

He has to remind me to breathe, but I couldn't care less right now. Rosa shouldn't have been in that car. She was only seven. She should've been adopted. It should've been me in her place this morning.

It should've been me.