I sit in the waiting room of the local hospital, clenching my fists. There are a lot of people, even at this late hour, shuffling around, heading toward the receptionists' desk with a sullen look. They speak with harsh words and point at the clock. I feel like I'm the only one who's calm and confused, but I'm too scared to get up or do anything. My spine rubs against the back of the chair when I change positions, so I end up hunched over. My hands are white and trembling, and my throat is dry, but I swallow anyway when a lady approaches me. I only see his sneakers and I don't meet his eyes. “Are you okay, young man?” she asks. With relief and dread, I realize she is not a nurse and I look up to see an aging woman carrying a schoolbag over her shoulder. I pretend to smile and nod, but to my dismay, she sits down next to me and places the schoolbag at her feet. “Do you need anything?” “No,” I told him, running my fingers through my dark hair. I text the pain in my neck and my hand is drenched in sweat when I pull it away and look at it. The stranger gives me a strange look and shifts in her chair to make her point. “Look, honey,” she said, “you can talk to me about everything that’s going on, okay?” She continues when I don't answer. “Why are you here by yourself?” “Car accident,” I respond, looking at the clock. Everyone else's impatience begins to get to me, and the seconds tick by as the minute hand stretches toward midnight. “I’m sorry to hear that, doll. » “It’s okay,” I lie. his chair before reaching out to grab a magazine from a table in front of us. The woman no longer tries to console me, but flips through the pages, her eyes frantically scanning the middle of the paper, right? My voice is only a whisper and I know the doctor didn't hear me clearly. I repeat myself. “You don’t have to give me a speech, doctor. I know they are dead. » He bites his lip and nods. You would think it would be easier for a doctor to break the news. “I’m sorry, my son.” I had spent the last hour preparing for this moment, because deep down, I seemed to know that my family would never leave the hospital alive. Yet the words hit me full force, and I feel my breathing quicken and my heartbeat quicken as my eyes dart around the room. My pulse pounds in my temple like I've just run a mile and the doctor tries to calm me down, but the room spins and an inky blackness appears in the corner of my vision. My legs are weak and trembling as I succumb to the horror of it all. I'm terrified. And in that moment the world collapses beneath me..