text: I woke up to the thick black smoke entering my lungs, I couldn’t breathe. I tried to cough but the more I did, the easier it was to choke. I tried to cover my mouth with my blanket, that’s when I noticed the heat. I could feel my veins melting out of my skin, I could feel the tiny hairs on my arms becoming nothing more than ash on the ground, it was so bright I felt like the sun was in my room. I heard someone screaming, but the sound of everything I had once loved burn to the ground like my house was nothing more than a fireplace was too loud for me to concentrate on anything else. I tried to scream for help but I barely had enough air to breathe, I couldn’t escape. It was already in my room. I tried to get up and get outside but I felt like my body was tied down to my bed, with no energy in me to move. I tried to cry but it seemed as though all the water from my body was already out of my system. I waited for my life to flash before my eyes, everybody’s does, doesn’t it? What kind of life have I lived if I get nothing but the black smoke turning me into ash? I closed my eyes, and I gave in. At that moment, I woke up, my heart was pounding so heart I wondered if it would wake my mom up, I coughed, but there was no black smoke filling my lungs. I looked down at my bed, and back around my room and placed my hand on my chest, sighing a breath of relief, it was just a dream, I thought to myself. That’s when my little sister ran into my room, “Christian!!” she screamed, “Did you have a bad dream again?” I smiled at her, “Yeah, same one, Dotty.” I saw her yawn, her hair was messy and she was in her pj’s, then I realised I must’ve woken her up, but when I was about to apologise my mum walked into my room, “Come on Dotty” she started, “let’s leave your brother alone” she said, as she took Dotty into her arms, kissed her on the forehead and closed my door behind them without so much as a look towards me. Ever since my bad dreams started happening my mother and my relationship hasn’t been easy, I think it’s because my dad left around the same time they started, and unfortunately for her, I’m a spitting image of my father when I was his age, so I didn’t blame her for being sad all the time. I hated my dad for leaving her this way, he’s so selfish. All he cares about is his next smoke and his next bottle. After I put a shirt on, I went downstairs and Dotty was watching television, my mum was sitting at the kitchen table, looking at photographs of when we were a family. “I’m sorry about last night, mum” I said, and she sighed, still not looking my way, and she whispered, “Oh, Christian.” I knew she meant that it was okay, but she, like me, was probably sick of me waking everybody up in the house at ungodly hours. I noticed the empty ashtray on the table, she hadn’t smoked for a few days. I thought that was progress at least, when my dad was here they’d smoke like trains. Just as I noticed the ashtray, she threw it into the bin, chipping off the sides of it against the outside of the bin. I went into the living room by Dotty, she had a glass of juice on the table, so I had a sip of that, and held the glass in my hand when I heard a knock at the door. My mum sighed again as she got up to slowly answer the door, her hair looked as though she had been sleeping for a month, although her eyes tell a story of the opposite. I heard her slowly answer the door, and mumbles to follow. I got up, because I thought the voice was familiar, I stayed out of sight, behind the doorway to the living room, “Is Dotty still here?” I heard a man ask, there was a hint of something other than concern in his voice, but I couldn’t pick up what it was, and I realised it was my father, I definitely didn’t want to see him, “Go away.” I heard my mum say as she tried to close the door on him, but his boot was in the way, “Let me see my daughter.” He said sternly, more anger in his voice this time than concern. “Your daughter?” my mum spat, “That’s rich coming from you.” I couldn’t see her but I imagined her eyes now stronger, with venom, “Don’t. I made one mistake, and I will live with it for the rest of my life, but for now, let me fix this.” He begged, I could hear the desperation in his voice. “Haven’t you done enough? You tore this family apart!” I heard her choking back on tears as she screamed, “I tore this family apart? Have you even told Dotty why her brother doesn’t join us for family outings? Why he doesn’t join you for dinner? Why he locks himself in his room all day and never leaves the house?” By this time I had heard enough, I stepped into plain view although none of them noticed me until I threw the cup at the door, and I heard my mum scream and begin to cry, “You made him mad!! Get out! GET OUT!!” she screamed as she slammed the door shut and began crying, she ran straight past me and I saw Dotty about to follow her when I stopped her, “Hey, don’t. It’s okay. She just needs some space.” Dotty nodded and went back into the living room to watch tv, I was about to pick up the broken glass by the door when I figured getting paper towels from the kitchen would be easier, as I reached the kitchen I found some pieces of the ashtray still outside the bin, so I put them in before I went to go clean up the glass I just threw at the door, and that’s when I noticed it. The paper that my mum was looking at on the table was now in the bin, although it wasn’t photographs of our family, it was just me. I picked it out of the bin and almost fell down with shock when I read what it said, “Christian Darko, loving son, loving brother, gone but never forgotten. 07-05-1996 - 17-02-2012” I fell on the floor. What the fuck is this, I thought to myself. And then I remembered. My dad had come home later that night, I was still awake because my leg hurt from basketball training. I heard my mother and him exchange words before she went to bed and he came to check on me, his smoke still lit in his mouth and whiskey on his breath, “And why the fuck are you awake?” he slurred at me, “My leg hurts from practice, I’ll be asleep in a sec though.” “Did you take your sleepy pills?” He asked, trying to be concerned but too drunk to care about anyone other than himself at this point, “Yeah. Goodnight dad.” He took that as his invitation to leave, and he did so. And I heard him flick something at my door, but I just rolled my eyes, he always flicks my door before he goes to bed. It’s like a good luck charm thing his family believes in. I saw something glowing under my door but shrugged it off and blamed it on the pills, then I fell asleep.