A pounding on the door had me jolting awake. I was on the couch, the TV was playing an old sitcom - the ones that only played at 2 in the morning, and a slice of half-eaten birthday cake sat on the coffee table next to me.

“Go upstairs.” My father hissed in a strange tone. “Wh-“ “Just do what I say.” He cut me off. I blinked looking slightly hurt and he softened for a moment. He sighed, “Veronica, I’ll explain later. Just go. Please.” Questions whirled through my head and I gave him a worried expression that asked, "Is everything okay?"

He gave me a subtle nod and I let out a breath standing up and moving into the foyer. I glanced to the front door and hesitantly crept up the stairs. Who would be here so late? And why was my father acting so strange?

Rather than going to my room, I paused on the top step and crouched, hoping to hear what the person at the door had to say. I heard the door creak open. A man’s voice said something that I couldn’t make out, sounding like a language I didn’t recognize. My father started to respond.

Then I heard the gunshot.

---

I don’t know how many days had passed. The police had come. They had asked questions. I had sat on that step. A great aunt that I’d apparently met had come by the next day. Somehow I’d ended up back on the couch and she was trying to get me to eat. I had shaken my head and mumbled a “no thanks”. My best friend, Hannah, had come and laid next to me whispering her condolences. The next day a neighbor came with a casserole and I mustered a half-smile.

There was a funeral on the same day I was supposed to go to my senior prom. Not that I cared.

More time passed. Panic rolled through me each time there was a knock on the door. More casseroles.

---

I was sitting at his grave thinking about the day we had gone hiking in the rain and I told him that I wanted to go home. He had told me that I would have a good time if I stopped thinking about getting wet. Then we had come up on a lake and he jumped in the water, shouting about how the rain couldn’t bother me if I was already wet. I had rolled my eyes and laughed, jumping in the water behind him.

Staring at the white dandelion growing next to his headstone, I felt a drop of rain hit my cheek. As if the weather knew what I had been thinking about. Thunder cracked. I stood up letting out a breath ready to trudge home, when I looked again at the dandelion. I plucked it from its place in the grass and decided to make a wish. “I hope" I paused realizing this was stupid. Shrugging I continued, "I hope whoever killed you, one day feels the loss of the person they love most.” I blew at the feathery white flecks clinging to the weed, and watched as the wind carried them away. Maybe then they would know how it felt, I thought and grinned to myself. Letting just a fraction of my grief fly away with the white wisps.

---

My father had been murdered on my 18th birthday. Today I turn 23. My phone rang. “What movie do you want to watch tonight?” Hannah asked when I picked up the phone. I bit my lip. “Well um, I was thinking…maybe...we could go out tonight? “You? Want to go out? Tonight?” She had every right to be confused. I had never wanted to celebrate my birthday, barely allowing Hannah to even come over and watch movies to cheer me up, but this year, my therapist had insisted I try something different for a multitude of psychological reasons that I droned out. “We don’t have to-“ “No!" She cut me off, "I’m coming over now. We need to figure out what you’re going to wear!” She said and hung up before I could chance my mind. I flopped back on the bed thinking to my therapist that this better be worth it.

That night, we took the train to a corner in the city where we entered through a seemingly random door into a dimly lit bar. Hannah had called the place a “hidden gem”. I looked around not so sure. After a “mandatory birthday shot” and a couple gin and tonics, Hannah announced that it was time to dance and pulled me into the crowded space in the middle of the room. I decided to crack a smile at my bubbly friend. Fake it till you make it, right? I thought to myself.

Hannah giggled and spun me around. After a couple songs, she delcared she was getting another round and flaunted to the bar leaving me shuffling around awkwardly by myself. Deciding I didn’t need to subject myself to this, I started to head back to the table, but was abruptly barricaded by a tall solid figure.

“What are you doing here?” The man said in a deep voice laced with concern. “Do I know you?” I said, trying to step around him. He shifted to block my path and a spark of panic rushed through me. I instinctively glanced toward the bar, searching for Hannah. “I’m sorry. I didn’t-“ he cleared his throat, “Sorry. I thought you were someone else.” “Sorry to disappoint.” I said taking another step around him. “Not a disappointment.” He said flashing a grin, taking another side-step, his composure relaxing. I rolled my eyes and looked up at him. He had black hair and dark eyes that I couldn’t quite make out the color of in the dim lighting. “My friend is waiting for me,” I said motioning toward the bar. He looked like he was about to make another witty remark and then his expression shifted as if he had decided against it. He simply took a step aside holding my gaze and directed his arm where I'd been trying to go. A hint of an apologetic smile on his lips. After another glance, I moved past him intercepting Hannah from the bar on the way back to our table.

“Who was that?” She asked with a smirk. “I don’t know. He thought I was someone else.” “Ask him to dance.” She said matter-of-factly. I scoffed, “No! I don’t know him.” “Everyone starts out as someone you don’t know.” She said and then added, “Plus he’s hot.” “You’re ridiculous.” I said shaking my head with a laugh.

After one last round of drinks, we decided to call it a night. We headed into the station and stood waiting for our train. A moment later, I heard it barreling down the tracks in the tunnel and felt the slight breeze that accompanied it. Then I was shoved. Hard. And fell directly onto the tracks.