Dinner was, as usual, a scramble. Once everyone had their food, we perched where we could and Charity said grace. I was the only non-believer in the house, but I stood by and put up with it. Times where I wasn't as good as dead seemed so long and bright, it was hard to keep up my charade in front of my family.
Around my siblings, I spoke little because I did not feel like one of them. I've never been able to fully explain it.
We quickly wolfed down our small portions, due to lack of income, and I was left with Jack to wash up.
My mind was ready to take itself off this earth, as I was hardly aware of what I was doing. I made my way to my room, which I shared with Jack, Lizzy and Connor, and slumped on my bed.
With my mind able to shut itself off, I drifted into being dead.
The usual blackness that swamped me did not come, no matter how hard I tried to find it. I could feel my limbs being all floppy and tingly, almost to the point where I wanted to laugh. But no blackness. Instead, weird whirls of colour were swilling behind my eyes.
To my horror images of Rosie burned into my eyes. Nice pictures, happy pictures, but terrifying because I was having them. It was not like me to fall for a girl. And I was enjoying them. They made me happy, and my heart seemed to jump every time she smiled, so I made my head play that one over and over again.
I don't know when exactly, but at some point I stopped being dead. Still I laid down on the bed, but I was aware of everything.