The way that the white tiles I was staring at made it so easy to zone out, enter my own world and get away from absolutely everything at that very moment surprised me. My hands cupped together, my body leaned over my knees, sitting on a pull out couch that was confusingly comfortable. My eyes were irritated, the veins bright red from all of the strain I have been putting on them for the past 28 hours I have been awake. So many things were racing through my mind, so many things wouldn't shut up and leave me alone. How could I have been so stupid?

I don't understand how I could have let so many years go by without even noticing a single thing, a single symptom. I also don't understand how I could have ever managed to allow so many opportunities to make memorable memories with her pass by me. And I definitely will never, ever understand how or why it had to end up like this.

I reached over to the side of me grabbing ahold of the dark green blanket that was placed on the small nightstand beside the pull out couch that I was on. I bundled it all together into a big ball and placed it on my thighs. I wrapped my arms around it, squeezing it tightly as I put my face down into it, shutting my eyes as tightly as they could, fighting off the billion of tears that were battling their way out of my tear ducts and damn, were they some strong little things because it was taking everything I had to keep them in.

"You know what, Dylan? You're so caught up in life with your friends that don't give two shits about you and getting high everyday to numb any kind of hurt that you're feeling that you're basically passing everything that actually really matters right on by." The echo of my mom's voice painfully vibrated my ear drums.

"What are you talking about? I see everything that matters and I take fucking notice of it all!" I had spat at her.

"Don't you even try to lie to yourself, son. You're missing absolutely everything and you don't even know it. If you looked the hell around and opened your eyes you'd see things you wouldn't even recognize!"

Her voice flew off of each wall and filled the whole house. I huffed loudly, grabbed my backpack slinging it over my shoulder and walked towards the door.

As I grabbed my keys off of the key rack I could hear my mother's faint cry for help, "She needs her big brother, Dyl. She needs your help."

The flashback haunted me. I shook my face against the fabric of the blanket, wiping the tears that had forced their self through my closed eyelids. I looked up, placing my chin on the big ball of blanket. I glanced around the hospital room, kind of surprised about how comfortable it actually looked. The sounds of the machines beeping in the background and the noticeable sound of the oxygen tank coming from the bed across the way were the only sounds that filled the room.

It was quite depressing, actually. The whole situation was completely fucked up in every single way. The only person I could blame was myself, though. I should've been there, I should've been paying attention. I should have not taken a single second given to me for granted and I should've taken ahold of those chances and done something with them.

It's so messed up how the past three years went by so fast, I can't even fathom how much each day ran together or how everything blended into one another. To be completely honest, I can't even understand how I never noticed a single clue. But I guess whenever you're waking up at 3, leaving the house at 4 and staying gone until at least 2, falling straight to sleep and repeating that same routine every single day while being fucked up one way or another, on anything that I was able to find that day, it's pretty hard to notice the things that were right in front of my face that had nothing to do with the things I was interested in.

Now that I'm actually thinking about it, it's like I've just blinked and everything has just passed by not even looking back to see if I'm keeping up or even following. I never noticed a fucking thing, or even saw what I was supposed to. I put everyone else in front of my family. Everyone that wasn't even true to me or had my back. Everyone that just kept me around because I had a car that worked just fine and had really great gas mileage. Everyone that knew I would do anything for anyone, they all knew that it was hard for me to say no. They all knew that I loved driving, going on any kind of adventure, and getting high on anything that I could find. And the fact that I basically always had money didn't make anything better at all.

I'm sure there was a couple of those people that were an actual true friend, but they were lost in the crowd with the others and hard to recognize. But even those few individuals help me get caught up in life, getting lost in the feeling of driving down back roads, blasting music while singing loudly along with whoever was in the car at the moment and passing a sticky, wet blunt full of high quality weed laced with some purple cough syrup that made you feel like you were floating for hours at a time. It relaxed you, chilled you out and made you just lean back and smile at the feelings sliding through every inch of your body. How could anyone not love doing that?

Sighing loudly I threw my head back, hitting it against the couch and I looked up, staring at the ceiling. I quickly looked at the door whenever there was a slight knocks. A petite woman with dark skins and eyes with black, shiny black hair that was placed up perfectly into a nice bun. She smiled politely at me.
"I'm here to check her vitals." She said in a comforting tone and I nodded. I watched as she did everything she needed to do. She wrote everything on her little clipboard, smiled at me and then left the room. I threw my head back against the couch again, closing my eyes. The pictures flickering behind my eyelids were way too vivid, I wish I could delete it all from my memory. There was nothing else I could do besides letting it all replay in my head, reminding me of the reason of why I have been here for 7 weeks, sitting in this pull out couch, listening to the monitors beeping and the oxygen tank working on the beloved one who was lifelessly lying on the bed in front of me.

"You're so hot, baby." Melissa, a small girl with a figure that any person would stop and stare at spoke into my heart with a seductive whisper. Her body was laying on top of mine. Her brown, long hair falling over her shoulder. I smirked, sliding my fingers over her bare shoulders, the rest of her body clad in a grey tank top. Small little goosebumps rose from her skin.

Melissa slid her lips from my own to my cheek then to my jawline and down towards my cheek, sucking and biting softly and randomly until she got to my collarbone. A moan rose from my mouth as I adjusted my body under her. She caressed my hips with her legs, grinding her body against mine. I could hear the saliva in her mouth make that tiny smacking noise as she smiled big, adjusting her legs several times until she was comfortable. I slid my hands down her torso, listening to her breathing get heavier.

Over the slow, sensual music I had playing in the background you could barely hear the ruckus coming from the room next to mine. The room that was covered in band posters, pictures of family and friends, and album art. You could barely make out the light purple paint under the cluttered mess. There was one wall, though, that had nothing taped or pinned to it. It had a turquoise background with little notes and sayings written from anyone who has ever entered. The room that my little sister, Samantha, named 'The Safe Haven' and where she spent all of her time in.

It took me a minute to make out what I was hearing on the other side of my wall. There was a loud thud, as if someone had fallen off of the bed that was placed on section of the room where you had to climb stairs to get to. It was kind of like a loft, but had it's own separate area beneath it, closed off with walls and a personal door used to get into. I sat up, forcing Melissa to stop kissing my neck and she grunted dramatically as she got off of my lap and sat beside me. I reached over her and grabbed the dial on my stereo, turning down the music. There was a quiet murmur of music playing from the next room, I could barely make out the words of the song that was playing. For some reason there was a terrible, sickening feeling entering the depths of my stomach.

I instantly knew that whatever had caused the loud thud was completely horrendous that it would change my life for the outmost worst. I cringed as the walls of my stomach vibrated with the sense of absolutely tragedy. I gulped forcefully as demoralizing chills swarmed my entire body and absorbed every thought I had of sweet, sexual pleasure and turned them into every thought of worry, concern and fear.

I jumped up quickly, accidentally hitting Melissa in the face. Without even an apology I then grabbed a random pair of dark grey sweats that were lying on my floor and slipped them on fast, since I had only been wearing a pair of striped boxer briefs. I quickly made my way out of my bedroom and into the hall where I saw a closed door that lead into The Safe Haven. I slowly stepped in front of it, seeing Melissa get off the bed and start searching for her clothes out of the corner of my eye. My hand shakily reached towards the door knob. I gripped it hard, turning it with fearful anticipation. I pushed open the door and I then let go of the knob, letting the door slowly swing open, letting off a creaky noise.

In front of my eyes, on the floor, laid evidence proofing every bad feeling I had just experience to be real and I just stood there, staring. I could literally feel my heart sinking into my stomach. The sinking was a slow, painful feeling. I could feel my whole mind losing itself and exploding into screams of absolute dispiriting fear.

I scanned the room quickly. A blue pill bottle laid on it's side on the white dresser and it was surrounded by just a couple of little blue pills. I quickly recognized them as ambien. Then my eyes made their way to the spot directly in the middle of the floor, right under where the end of the bed sat. Tan, olive skin was cladded in a thin, soft blue, cotton nightgown that ran over each curve like a piece of silk. Strawberry blonde hair that reached down to the small of her back laid messily across the polished hardwood floor. Soft, dark blue lips shook unnoticeably, desperately trying to grasp any air into her throat that would enter. A thin arm laid across the middle of her torso, blood covering her wrist, running out of the deep, revolting, fresh cuts that sat there vertically, taunting me in a way that completely pissed me off. Deep blue eyes stared helplessly at me, meeting my scared, hazel gaze and locked into one another's.

"Samantha..." I gulped out, my words had a tone that wrapped around my voice that I had never heard come out of my mouth before. I ran towards her, quickly picked her up, not worried if I was being gentle or not and threw her pale, cold, shaking body over my shoulders. I screamed at Melissa to call 911 as I desperately pranced towards front door. I failed to perfectly grip the keys that I had thankfully slipped on the key rack into my fingers and then proceeded to cuss at myself while I picked them up off of the floor. I took no time at all to run out, jump completely over the steps of my front porch, and I surprisingly landed on both of my two feet and then pounced in the direction of my dark green Jeep Cherokee. I threw my 17 year old sister in the backseat and raced the clock towards my most important destination ever.

I sighed as I opened my eyes. I thought about how the drive normally would of taken 45 minutes with no traffic, but being that there was only like 7 cars the whole way there I had been able to go 60 over the original speed limit of 30, making the drive only end up taking around 15 minutes. I then remembered how whenever I reached my destination I carried Samantha into the automatic doors of the Saint Peterson Hospital Emergency Room screaming in absolute terror:

"Help! Please! My sister! She's, she's, she's fucking dying! Don't just look at me you stupid fucks! I need some fucking help! I fucking beg of you, holy shit!" I exclaimed as loud as I could at every single individual in the waiting area, but specifically towards the blue scrub wearing staff that looked at me with frightful eyes once they heard my cries of help. Every working staff that hear me rushed to my service, forcefully taking her from me and placing her on a gurney and rushing her away from me. Two male nurses held me by the arms forcing me to stay behind.

I bit my lip as I experienced the feeling of whenever they took her away from me all over again. It was like as if she was my newborn that I had fallen protectively attached too and the mother of my child left me, snatching the infant from my arms and fleeing while I stood there helplessly as cops pointed guns at me to make sure I didn't try anything sneaky. It was like my whole life had been ripped from my hands.

I forced the feeling away from me and turned my head to where the side of my face was pressing against the couch, the plain wall being the only thing in my vision. I just couldn't push away the thought of how stupid I was. Seriously, how could I have not suspected this? The clues were so damn noticeable. I really had no excuse to not have realized sooner.

Samantha always had demons that lingered around her everywhere she went. You could see the overwhelming depression that weighed her down in the eyes of hers that tried their hardest to show off a happy sparkle. Her presence was so damn heavy that anyone around her always ended up straying away and leaving her behind, only a select few have stayed close to her. The smile she showed off was so perfectly practiced that it would've taken someone that knew her inside and out to see through the lie, and usually, the only person that has ever been was me. The way that she was always bullied and picked apart in every school she went too because of her weight, her very noticeable lisp, and the fact she had a eye that was cross-eyed left a huge impact on her life and destroyed every ounce of confidence she ever had.

She developed bulimia whenever she turned 12, I had walked in on her one time after we ate dinner sticking her toothbrush down her throat, trying to make herself throw up the meal our mom had just slaved over the stove to make. About 6 months after that I was informed by my mom on how she discovered cuts on Samantha's wrist by asking her why she was always wearing a hoodie or a long-sleeved shirt whenever it was 108 degrees outside. Apparently the two ended up arguing and my mom grabbed her arm and pulled up her sleeve, revealing the battlefield that told a million stories. I'm pretty sure after that Samantha found other places on her body to destroy because she stopped wearing inappropriate summer clothes and no fresh cuts ever appeared.

I couldn't handle everything that was running through my head. I felt so... Defeated, heart broken and as if no one in the world had ever felt the amount of guilt I had inside of me. The feelings that caressed me wouldn't leave me alone. They wouldn't give me a break. But, no matter how hard I tried and no matter how hard I blocked it and keep it out of my thoughts path, there was one thing that kept coming back and mocking me: Samantha is in a coma.

Samantha is in a coma.

Samantha is in a coma.

Samantha. Is. In. A. Coma.

The thought dug deeply in my heart and stabbed the walls, killing every happy thing inside of me. I hate how the doctors told me and my mom that she slipped into a kind of coma that she might never come out of and that it might be the best to just pull the plug and let her drift off into the peacefulness of her decision. Making that decision has been the hardest thing in my entire life. My mom acts as if she's already gone, as if she isn't laying in that bed hanging on by a thread and that theres still hope if we keep her on life support and let time do it's thing. She's basically accepted the fact that her daughter is dead.
I guess I had my eyes closed for too long and I entered a sad slumber full of different dreams that ran into each other about my sister. Translucent scenes of her twirling around in a light green dress surrounded by beautiful flowers and ones consisting of memories of her smiling, laughing and enjoying being around me filled my subconscious mind.

I woke up with the feelings of sorrow and despair and a heavy, damaged heart that possibly could never be fixed that weighed me down more than a 1000 ton boulder. I blinked my eyes over towards my sister. My mom and a couple of doctors were leaning over her, discussing what I knew would completely make whatever life Samantha had left in her completely disappear.

"You're going to have to just breathe, Ms McCormick." One of the men wearing long, white lab coats told her.

"It won't take long after we pull the plug, she won't feel any pain or anything, Ms McCormick." The other one chimed in.

I couldn't believe this! Could my mom be serious right now? I honestly couldn't think of a single reason to why she would be in this room, making a huge decision that she hasn't even discussed with me. A huge decision that would change both of out lives! I was raging with so much anger inside of me that it was absolutely incredible. I jumped up as fast as I could, my arms flailing all around. The blanket that had somehow ended up covering my body instead of in a ball held held in my arms fell to the ground.

"No! You can't fucking do this!" I screamed.

"Dylan! Calm down!" My mother exclaimed.

I pushed one of the doctors over causing him to bang against the wall that had a dry erase board pinned to it. The other doctor grabbed me by my arm and tried to restrain me. My mom covered her mouth, gasping, surprised by the way I was acting. The doctor that had ahold of my reached and grabbed my other arm as I was trying to swing my body around to grab the doctor I pushed into the wall, he then forced both of my hands behind my back and I watched as the other one ran out of the room. I was turned towards my mom and forced onto my knees.

"You're actually going to do this?!" I gulped, forcing back an immense amount of tears.

"You're going to give up only after like a couple of months?!" The words slipped out of my mouth towards my mom without even crossing my mind, not even giving them a thought. It was like I had no filter at all.

"I fucking hate you! There's still hope for her! She could make it if we just gave her time! You're giving up on your fucking daughter! How dare you, you fucking self centered bitch!" Finally the tears left my eyes and my mom's facial expression showed that she didn't even blame me for what I was shouting at her. I could see it in her eyes that she hated herself, too.

"I'm sorry, Dylan... But I just can't force myself to see her like this." She explained to me softly. By this time the doctor who had ran out had returned with two young, muscular nurses. One was holding a shot filled with some liquid and the other one had joined me by my side and helped hold me down. Out of nowhere, the other nurse stuck me in the top of my arm, releasing the medicine inside of me.

I could feel everything around me quickly fade away, my vision becoming blurred and I opened my mouth to speak but I couldn't force any sounds to come out. My eyes began to feel extremely heavy and I could hardly hold them open anymore. An amazing, relaxing feeling covered me and I suddenly felt calm. I was chilled out, everything that had been bothering me since that terrible night just disappeared and for the first time in a couple of months nothing seemed to matter.

"Just breathe, Ms McCormick, everything is going to be okay." I heard someone in the room speak, but the words were far away and they seemed to just slowly repeat them self, getting quieter and quieter until there was absolute silence.

I fell unconscious, entering a world that was nothing but white. I looked around and studied my surroundings.

"Dylan..." A familiar voice sang a melody. I turned quickly and saw Sam standing there, looking absolutely more gorgeous than I have ever seen her.

"It's okay, bubba. I'm fine. I'm sorry I scared you and have had you feeling so bad for so long." She spoke. I tried to speak back to her, but I couldn't manage to make a single sound.

"I'm free now, bubba. I'm finally happy." She appeared right in front me and I could see the honest happiness in her eyes.

"Promise me one thing though?" I nodded.

"Don't get caught up in life anymore, don't let the things that fill your daily life consume you and make it to where you don't notice the simple things. Appreciate every memory you make. Love strong and cherish everything that makes you happy." Her words surrounded me like a warm, fluffy blanket that gave me absolute peace. I was never, ever going to let life pass me by again, no matter what I do.