My name is unimportant. I am a slightly chubby girl, with dirty hair (it’s not really dirty, as in filthy, but dirty as in so brown it’s almost black), I have hazel eyes, with flecks of green, and swirls of brown. I live in a dysfunctional family. My dad walked out on my mom when she told him I was on the way. She struggled to support herself and me for the first 5 years of my life. When I turned 6 she told me that we were moving in with her new boyfriend. He had a daughter by a name which is also unimportant. What is important is that when I was 8 my mom finally tied the knot with my new stepfather, and brought a bouncing baby boy into the world 9 months later. I was quickly forgotten, what with my athletic prettier younger sister, with my also equally athletic handsome little brother. I was known as the sibling who couldn’t even remember if she had eaten anything at all that morning for breakfast, or my favorite one according to my mother, I was the child that almost ruined her lifelong dreams of pursuing an unimportant career.
We moved to New York not long after I had graduated high school (I was 17, so I couldn’t legally move out yet). What we didn’t know was that someone had followed us there. He used to work for my stepfather and mother’s company, and was deeply infatuated with my mother. My mother fired him quickly after she had learned of his plans to “get her husband out of the family photo”. The man, whose name I do not know but wish I did, had pulled his car alongside ours on a highway with a name that was unimportant at the time, but like the man’s name would become important later. He gave my stepfather (who was at the wheel) no time to react as he swerved his car to the right, effectively killing both himself and my stepfather. The force of impact pushed our car over the guard rail, and down into a deep ditch. His car then promptly rolled over as well and crushed our car underneath his. My stepfather died due to the blow from the man, my mother passed on later due to the collapsing dashboard squashing her insides like an irritated zit. My sister died on impact due to head trauma caused by colliding with the window. And my brother died on impact due to a part of the car roof that collapsed to far down on his side, caving his skull in almost immediately. I was alive, but all I could see was red, as I was cut out of the car, and loaded onto a gurney.
When I awoke, I was in a hospital. I noticed I had bandages around my eyes, and slowly proceeded to unravel them. A doctor walked in, I heard his heavy footsteps stop dead. “Ah, miss Abbigail! You are awake! You are quite the lucky girl, surviving that horrible car accident. I can’t, however, say the same about your family. I am terribly sorry about that, we did everything we could but…” He trailed off and then began to blabber again, about how the only injury I received was due to my glass lenses shattering, and cutting my face and eyes.. He told me that the man responsible was dead, and that I would be put into a foster home, until I turned 18. He then proceeded to pull something out of his pockets with a crinkly wrapper. He placed the item in my hand, it was a piece of candy. “Anyways, miss Abbigail, I will be off! But not before I open these windows, it’s such a lovely day after all!” He proceeds to cross the room and while he’s opening the windows he continues to speak. “Your memory may be a bit blank due to the crash. I’m sorry but we could find any ID on your parents or siblings, and they were in such a disfigured state, we couldn’t tell which end from which! So we don’t know their names…only yours as a nurse of ours recognized you from school. Anyway, enjoy the bright and beautiful day outside your window!” As he walked off I reached out and grabbed the end of his coat. I asked him if he was absolutely sure it was daytime. He said that it was as bright and as cloudy as if it was a painting. I asked him another question, to which he froze and visibly swallowed,

“If it’s such a beautiful day outside…why can’t I see it?”