“Arguing, I remember arguing with my mom and dad.”

Liv doesn’t say anything. I know she’s giving me time to gather my thoughts and emotions. I’ve never talked about the accident before. For six long years, I’ve been quiet. It has been easier to not relive that night. I wish that with time, the memory had blurred, but if anything it has only gotten sharper.

I can remember every little detail: the pain, the smells, the cries, the emptiness from not being able to do anything but listen to them die. I never once believed I would be able to talk about that night. I promised myself I wouldn’t. I thought reliving that night would kill me. Hopefully I’m stronger than I realized and I can talk about that dreadful night that changed everything without losing myself again.

“They wanted to know something.” I rub my flat stomach. “I can’t remember what, though. I was yelling at them to drop it. It was my decision to keep the secret.”

I close my eyes trying to recall the details of the fight. Something tears at my brain, begging me to let it in. I shake my head, tossing away the painful memory before I can grasp it. I’m choosing to forget something important.

“I can’t remember why I was screaming at them to leave me alone.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

I shrug in answer. I massage my temples and try with everything in me to recall the fight. Jax. No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop picturing his face. As much as it’s killing me to not ask Liv, I can’t. I know I’m not ready for those answers yet. Instead I let myself block out something vitally important. I tell Liv as much as I can recall about the fight. Putting the pieces together as I talk, but still having gaps in the puzzle that’s my life.

“I was so mad at them. They told me I had to tell them the truth, or I had to leave. They were going to cut me off until I told them everything. I kept yelling at them because they were being so unfair. They promised they would give me more time. They lied. Hadley squeezed my hand to try to calm me down, but I yanked my hand away and moved from the middle seat to the one next to the window so I wasn’t next to her anymore. I wanted to be left alone. Funny, I got what I wished for.”

I pick up a glass of water and force it down my too-tight throat. I wish I could forget the harsh words I said to my parents, but those words are forever engraved in my mind.

“We were about a mile away from our house when I saw the lights. Everything seemed to slow down but speed up all at once. Hadley was holding out her earphones to me with the most welcoming smile I’ve ever seen, our mom looked like she was crying, and my dad was silent and staring at me in the rearview mirror, trying to get me to look at him. I refused to meet his eyes because I was afraid of what I would see, so I looked out the window at the headlights that were coming in the wrong direction.”

I’m aware that I am drawing patterns on my hand. I wouldn’t be able to stop even if I wanted to . . . I need the calm that Jax brings, like I need oxygen.

“I tried to yell at my dad to stop, but nothing came out. I watched horrified as the lights grew closer and closer. Blinding me. I heard the impact more than felt it. I think I was still in shock and the pain didn’t register yet. I can still hear the sound of my dad’s head hitting the window and glass shattering.”

I hear the sound as clear as I can hear myself breathing. I have the sudden urge to throw up. I swallow the acid rising up my throat. I need to get this out more than anything. The words are spilling out on their own accord without any thought on my part. It’s liberating in the most painful way imaginable.

“When our car went airborne, that’s when the screaming started. Everyone was screaming except for my dad. I still have nightmares of the silence when the car finally stopped in the ditch. Then the ringing started. I tried to cover my ears to shut the noise off because it was so loud and it was hurting my head, but my hands weren’t working. I forgot that we were in a car accident. The smell of rubber confused me because I thought I was asleep somewhere in my house. I knew I wasn’t in my bed, but I didn’t know where I was.

“I kept trying to open my eyes, but every time I got close to opening them, I was out again, only to be awoken by the ringing again. I don’t know how long I was like that until I was finally able to open them. The sight was so horrible that I immediately started to scream. I was in my worst nightmare and I knew no matter how many times I closed and reopened my eyes, the scene in front of me wouldn’t change. My family was dying and there was nothing I could do but watch.”

Not being able to sit still, I head over to the window. A man walks his dog and across the street a couple hold hands as they wait for a taxi. I would guess teenagers. They don’t seem any older than seventeen. Fitting. It feels like a lifetime ago that I was seventeen without a care in the world. Then everything changed. Like everything always does. The worst that could happen had happened and there was nothing I could do but watch. I hated being helpless. I never want to feel powerless again.

That’s why I know no matter how I feel after talking with Liv, that I will be okay. I won’t be fine, but I’ll survive. I’ll keep living, breathing, because they can’t. I won’t just sit back and watch my life unveil before my eyes. I will always be a participant in life. I won’t give up. No more watching. Never again.

With newfound calm, I’m able to step away from the window and sit back down on the couch. I hug the pillow to my chest again. It’s a small comfort that I need right now. I give Liv a small smile so she knows that I’m okay. She’s so patient with me, pushes me when I need it. She understands me. The other therapists didn’t. They always tried to fix me. They never let me realize that I had to fix myself. Nobody can fix me; Liv just helps me see the pieces that are ready to be put back together.

“Do you want to talk some more, or save the rest for another day?” Liv asks.

“Continue. I need to get it out. It’s strange, I never thought I would be able to talk about it, but now that I am, I know I need to get it all out, or I won’t be able to.”

Liv nods in understanding.

“When I realized that screaming wasn’t going to stop time, I tried to get out of my seat to get help. I could see the blood dripping down my legs and onto the floor. My right hand wasn’t working because it was broken and dislocated and my left arm was stuck. It felt like hours until I was finally able to free my left arm. I broke my thumb and three fingers in the process of getting my hand unstuck between my seat and the door. I didn’t even feel the pain. I pushed it all aside so I could reach Hadley. She didn’t stir once. I could see that my mom was starting to come to, so I called out to her.”

The memory is so vivid that I’m reeled back into the past. I don’t fight it like I usually do. I need to relive it one more time to be able to move on.

“Mom!” I yell, trying frantically to unbuckle my seatbelt.

“Add—” she whispers, but stops as if just moving her mouth causes her too much pain.

“I can’t . . . I can’t get out. My seatbelt is stuck! Can you move? Can you see Dad? Hadley isn’t moving!”

“Ad—” She tries again, but stops.

I wait for her to say something else, but she doesn’t. I panic all over again. She’s not stirring. If I lean as far forward as the seatbelt will allow, I can barely see the rise and fall of her chest.

I keep struggling to get free. Each and every time I use my left hand, pain shoots through my fingers and up my arm, causing me to scream as if somebody is stabbing me. I’ve never thought anything could hurt this badly. Tears run down my face, but I don’t give up. I can’t. I need to reach my sister. She’s the only thing that matters. Not the pain. Not the broken bones. Those will heal. My sister needs me.