Only.

In my dreams, I wake up and hug my dad. He ruffles my hair, just like he used to and smiles.
"My own little sleeping beauty."
Then, we leave the hospital, and everything is back to normal. Mum stills loves dad, and Elizabeth comes back from France with her fiancée. And we're together forever, a happy family.

Only, this isn't a dream.

The doctors said I might wake up. That there was a chance, that the damage wasn't too severe, that the drugs they were giving me were helping. Mum never believed them. Ever since it happened she was an inconsolable wreck, refusing to talk. Refusing to acknowledge the facts.
I wanted to reach out, to tell her that it was okay on those long, cold nights where she would sit, watching me sleep, waiting for the moment when the heart monitor would start to beep fast, the lights flashing green. When the doctors would flood into the room, declaring that was awake.

Only, It never came.

When Dad phoned Elizabeth, she didn't listen. Thought that it was another of his tricks to get her to come home. She screamed at him through the phone, telling him that she wouldn't come, that she was pregnant, and that she and Luc were happy, that Dad should leave them alone, keep his nose out her business. Then, she hung up.
Dad stormed out of the room, leaving me alone with the doctor. He smiled, a sad smile, one that wrinkled the corners of his eyes, filled with sorrow and loss. Then he left, back to his normal life, just like the one that I could have.

Only, I never got that far.

On the Friday, the doctors had to break the news. That I wouldn't wake up. I was brain dead. They could keep me alive if they wanted to, but the doctor said it would be kinder to let me go.
After that, mum wouldn't talk to anyone. She just... sat. She wouldn't eat, wouldn't sleep, wouldn't talk. It was like she was gone too.
Dad phoned his girlfriend, to tell her the news. He didn't cry.
No one did. As if, time had slowed down, and the fact I was dead hadn't caught up with them.

Only, that can't happen.

The next day, dad told the doctors to turn off the life-support. He and his girlfriend gathered round me, mum sat hunched in the corner. And, like that, my spirit was free to join with the others in heaven. Dad held his breath, like he waiting for some miracle that could suddenly bring me back to life, waiting for Jesus himself to march in and save me.

Only, he never came.

Sometimes, I wonder, what if?
What if the car never swerved.
What if I never was late from school.
What if, I was never there.

If it never happened.

Only, if.