I ran out into the frosty cold air, feeling the snow crunch beneath my bare feet and the thick, cream colored snowflakes dance upon the bridge of my nose and tear-stained cheeks. The moon lay low, hiding between the thick, alabaster branches of dead trees surrounding the empty streets. My vision was impaired from the lack of daylight and the salted drops falling from the sides of my eyes. I crossed my legs and sat in the peaceful scene. I needed to feel something.
My breathing became quick and shallow, and although the winter breeze used to help my sudden waves of grief in the past, this time was different. It had been almost a year since I had done this before. Days after my father's death, I sat in the exact same spot in the middle of my one way street, waiting for some kind of sign that my deep sorrow had been just a figment of my imagination. No matter how many times my heart tried to reassure me that my father was bundled up in his blankets, waiting for me to watch another rerun of 90's television with him at home, my rational mind told me to stay in my place and wait for headlights to come my direction.
I picked up a handful of snow and let it run through my fingers, my hands turning red from the sudden shock of freezing temperatures. I obviously wasn't wearing the attire for twenty-nine degree weather: a tank top, knit shorts, and an old baggy sweatshirt... but I didn't care.

I wasn't sure what pushed me to walk outside in the first place. Everything was foggy when my eyes first opened, for I was stuck in that weird place between consciousness and the REM stage of sleep. For some reason, my body directed my exposed legs and feet to the road in front of my house and made me sit. Maybe my zombie-like state was a good thing. .
Suddenly, my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was fairly new, so I figured that I had just hit the volume button by mistake. No one was going to be texting me in the middle of the night. No one spoke to me at all... Not that I wanted anyone to. Who would understand the reason why I let my grades slip into a deep dark abyss of summer school and failure? Who would understand the reason why I walked into school with eyes drier than a desert? Who would understand the reason why I had given up all means of making something out of myself? I had become a wandering soul of what I once was. There was no use in coming up with a useless explanation.
A few minutes passed until my phone began to vibrate violently again in my sweatshirt pocket. Disoriented, I pulled it out and looked at the caller ID.
I almost dropped it into the slush when I saw my father's name flashing on the screen of my iPhone. Swallowing back a scream, I hit the green accept button.
"Who are you?" I whispered hoarsely. There was no logical explanation towards the person who was possibly on the other line.
"Who am I?! Who are you?"
The voice coming from the speaker was just how I remembered it: loud and controlling, but inviting to someone who had broken down the invisible walls he built up to protect himself.
"Who are you, and why are you calling me?"
"Who are you?" he mocked me, "What has happened to my daughter?"
I felt a huge gust of air brush past my neck and hair then, and my head instinctively followed the source.
My father, not the frail, brittle boned man with an oxygen tank that I had gotten used to the past few years, but the chubby, bushy mustached man that the memories of my childhood possessed, stood across from me.
"Maggie, you mustn't do this to yourself."
I put my phone back into my pocket and stood up slowly, trying to decide whether to run toward him or run the other direction.
"You have yet to realize how selfish you have been. Don't let yourself do this. Go back inside, crawl into bed, and rest until morning." His voice was persistent and full of tension, a sign that he knew what I was up to.
"I can't. How am I to allow my body to control a soul that has nothing to it?"
He stepped closer to me, revealing that his body was not actually a body, but a source of light: a hologram it seemed.
"You are here. I can tell by the light in your eyes. That light is dim, but you are there, and the potential you have is still so great."
My voice hardly raised over the roaring of the trucks and vehicles on the turnpike behind my house as I tried to find a way to reply.
"I'm not wanted. I'm simply a waste of space. No one understands the constant pounding of my heavily beating heart and the build up of sobs within my chest. Why would they want to?" I searched his facial features for answers.
"Of course no one knows exactly what you're feeling, sweet girl, but did you ever think that they might want to help those feelings subside?"
I couldn't speak. I stood silently and studied the features of his face closely for a few moments instead, not bothering to rack my brain to find some kind of clarity towards my father's words.
Impatiently my father sighed, "I guess I'll just have to show you."
Within the amount of time it takes to blink, around me appeared a circle of familiar faces. All of them were smiling warmly, waiting for some kind of instruction. Frantically I spun around, taking in each and every person standing before me.
Every face I saw was familiar but strange and twisted into smiles from ear to ear. My mother and my brother, my grandparents and other close family members, my close friends, a few of my teachers, my most recent love interest... All of them stood linked hand in hand around my father and I. I couldn't help but to grab my chest and sob.
"Do you see these people?"
I nodded to acknowledge what he was saying, biting my lip.
"I wouldn't have brought them here if I didn't know that all of them cared about you, Maggie. These people would go out of their way to steer you down the right path. Very few of these people have experienced the loss of a loved one, but every individual knows what it's like to feel depressed, alone, and unwanted."
I turned back to him and shook my head vigorously. My body felt antsy from heat loss and uncontrollable emotion.
"But you... I am just like you. You wrote, I write. You performed, I perform. You viewed the world in the same sick yet wonderful way that I do. You are the one I went to for everything. How am I supposed to give all of that up? Am I supposed to replace my father?"
My father shifted even closer to my petite outline, leaning down so that our faces almost touched. His presence had no heat, but I blocked out the snow and cold instantly when he began to speak.
"I'm not asking you to replace me. I'm asking you to learn to depend on those who love and support you. With their help, you will become independent and content again. Promise me, Maggie."
Out of the corner of my eye I saw light flood from my living room window, meaning that my mother noticed I was missing. My father flew backwards, going back to his original place in the snow.
"I promise!" I called out to him, even though I felt unsure of my commitment.
With a reassuring smile, my father and other loved ones disappeared as quickly as they had come, leaving me alone in the darkness.
Sinking to my knees, I attempted to make sense of what I had witnessed, whether it had been some kind of strange and messed up dream I was still actively in, or if it was my father actually reaching out to me and giving me that first push I needed to go down "the right path".
Headlights of a car in the distance appeared then, coming so quickly that I only had a few seconds to act. My mother rushed outside almost simultaneously, waving her arms to get my attention.
"Maggie?!" she screamed at me.
Taking a final breath, I closed my eyes and jumped to the curb of the sidewalk, falling into my mother's weak embrace.
"What were you doing out there?!'
I went limp and rested my head against my mother's shoulder, soaking her robe with the last of my tears.
"I-I was just.... Getting some fresh air. I'm sorry."