Aight, lemme break it down for y'all. Welcome to Chicago—the Windy City, where dreams get mugged in broad daylight. And me? I'm Aaron Freeman, the poor schmuck stuck narratin' this novel. Yeah, that's right, the tragicomic hero of this mess. (Cue sarcastic applause.)

So, where do I even start? Hmm… my childhood? (Pauses dramatically) Y'all really wanna go there? Fine. (Deep sigh, glancing off-screen like it's a bad sitcom.)

Picture this: I'm just a lil' dude, barely taller than a coffee table. Life was cool. But there was this one day, man, I'll never forget it. After Four months, of pregnancy and it was finally here—the day my folks and I had been hypin' up. The big gender reveal. Oh yeah, it was that kind of day.

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(Spoiler alert: Things don't go as planned. But hey, that's my life in a nutshell.)

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Dad: "Sweetheart, we're gonna be late if you don't pick an outfit. Seriously, it's not a red carpet event, it's a doctor's appointment!"

I leaned out from my room, lookin' hopeful. "Can I come too?"

Dad sighed, the kinda sigh that said he'd already lost the battle. "Aaron, I was thinkin' I'd drop you off at Grandpa Jason's. Hospitals aren't exactly a playground, and you've got a talent for touchin' stuff you're not supposed to."

Mom: (from the other room, voice sharp but warm) "Don't start, Mark! Just bring him with us. We ain't got time for all that extra runnin' around!"

Dad rubbed his temples like he was starin' down a migraine. "Fine, but only if someone here"—he pointed dramatically at Mom—"starts gettin' ready faster than a snail in molasses. Seriously, babe, you're actin' like we're goin' on a date."*

Mom: (steps into the doorway, hand on hip, sass on max) "And you actin' like I don't got a full-time job keepin' you from lookin' like a mess. Don't test me, Mark."

After what felt like a whole Netflix series of back-and-forth, we finally got in the car. Dad was muttering under his breath, Mom was giving him side-eye, and I was just vibin', thinkin' about the mystery of this whole "new sibling" thing.

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Fast forward to the hospital. Now, lemme tell ya, hospital waiting rooms are the worst. You sit there, surrounded by bad magazines and that weird antiseptic smell, just waitin' for time to move. I stared at the ceiling tiles, tryin' to count them like I was discoverin' a new form of entertainment.

What if the baby's a girl? I thought. Tea parties? Nah, not my vibe. But then it hit me—Please, let it be a boy! I had this vision of us playin' ball, explorin' the world, and, when bullies showed up, me steppin' in like the hero I was destined to be. Big brother stuff, y'know?

But time dragged, and boredom won. So, naturally, I did what any curious kid does: wandered off. That's when things got weird.

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Outta the corner of my eye, I saw him. This tall dude, wearin' clothes so tattered they looked like they'd lost a fight with a lawnmower. He was holdin' this long, gnarly stick, and lemme tell ya, his whole vibe screamed do not approach.

I froze. Instinct said, run, but my legs didn't get the memo. Then he turned. Slow. Deliberate. And his face? Nah, scratch that—his skull. Empty eyes drilled into me, and my heart started playin' drum solos in my chest.

I wanted to scream, but my throat was on strike. Wanted to move, but my body was a statue. Then—bam!—a hand yanked me around so fast I thought I was a merry-go-round.

It was Dad, lookin' all kinds of furious. And for once, I was glad to see his angry "dad face." He opened his mouth, probably to start yellin', but before he could get a word out, I broke down cryin'. Full-on ugly tears.

The creepy guy? Gone. But me? Shaken to my core

"....."

Mom: "Bae, please go easy on him. He's just a kid."

Dad: (throws his hands up, still carryin' me) "Baby, I swear, I didn't even touch him! This one's all him."

Mom: (leans in close, soft voice) "Aaron, what's wrong, sweetie?"

Man, I wanted to tell 'em. Wanted to spill the whole skeleton-faced nightmare. But the words just weren't comin'—the tears wouldn't stop long enough for me to even try.

Dad: (grumbles, hoisting me higher) "You're such a crybaby, kid. Did ya know that? When we get home, we're talkin' about this—wanderin' around like you own the place and makin' us worry like that. Not cool, buddy."

He carried me back to the car, and I felt myself calm down a bit as we drove. The hum of the engine and the rhythm of the road kinda steadied my nerves. My mind started doin' mental gymnastics, tryin' to convince myself what I saw was just… a patient. Yeah, just some weird-lookin' dude. Right?

---

Dad broke the silence first.

Dad: "So, Aaron, what was that all about? First, you disappear, then we find you bawlin' like a rainstorm!"

He glanced at me through the rearview mirror, tryin' to lighten the mood with a grin. "You get it? 'Cause storms rain!"

Mom rolled her eyes. "When I first met you, you were funny. Now? You just have Dad jokes."

But I cracked a small smile anyway. He saw it, and I could tell it made his day.

Dad: (nudges Mom with a proud look) "At least he gets it."

Then, outta nowhere, Mom turned around, her face lighting up like she was about to drop the biggest surprise ever.

Mom: "Anyway, baby, we've got somethin' to tell you."

Dad: "Yeah, buddy, it's big news."

They both turned, all smiles.

Mom and Dad (together): "You're gonna be a big brother!"

I was just about to respond, to say something—anything—when the world exploded.

HOOOOOOONK!

A semi-truck came outta nowhere, slamming into our car with a sound so loud it felt like the air itself shattered. Metal crunched against metal, and everything went crazy.

The car spun out of control, like we'd been grabbed by a tornado and flung around. Outside, the world blurred into a mess of colors and chaos. Inside, I was thrown hard against my seatbelt, the straps diggin' into my chest while my mind struggled to catch up.

What just happened? What the hell was goin' on?

The noise, the spinning, the panic—it was too much. And just as everything started to slow, my vision blurred, and darkness crept in at the edges.

---

This wasn't just another bad day. This was the moment everything changed.

---

The sound of glass shatterin' was like a damn war zone. A thousand daggers rippin' through the air, each one of 'em hittin' me, slicin' into my skin. It felt like a freakin' nightmare—everything was chaos. I couldn't even see straight with all the glass rainin' down on me. It was like the world turned to shards, cracklin' and rippin' itself apart, and I was stuck right in the middle of it.

Our car was spinnin' outta control, man, The whole car jerked violently, throwin' us around like we weren't even human, like we were ragdolls in some twisted carnival ride.

Each turn felt like an eternity, like the world was movin' in slow motion and fast forward all at once. but I wasn't ready for what came next. My chest was tight, my heart bangin' against my ribs. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. The whole damn world was spin. This is it. This is how it ends.

I could feel the car flyin' through the air now. My stomach dropped, like we was gettin' launched straight to hell. Time was a blur—my mind couldn't keep up. It felt like I was flyin', like we were weightless, but there was no relief. Just fear, just chaos, just that sickening pull of gravity as we started to come down. I thought I saw the sky. I thought I saw it twistin', but that was probably just the spinning playin' tricks on me.

The car slammed back down, hittin' the ground with a brutal thud, metal bending, tires screeching, the world spinning again. We were airborne for a second, but then we landed hard. The impact sent my body slammin' into the seatbelt again, like it was tryin' to choke me out. The car spun again, then slammed into the ground, the tires screechin' against the blacktop. I couldn't even feel my legs anymore.

And then came that truck's horn, blastin' in the background. It was blarin' like it was makin' sure the whole world knew we was about to die. It wasn't stoppin'. That horn was like an angry god, callin' for vengeance, but I couldn't even move enough to get outta its way.

The car finally stopped, and all that screechin' and grinding just faded into this damn eerie silence. It was all over, but it wasn't. My heart was still racing, my chest still tight. The smell of burnt rubber, gasoline, and blood—it hit me like a freight train. I couldn't even breathe right, just gaspin' for air that didn't feel like air anymore. It felt thick. The metallic taste of blood stuck to my tongue, but I wasn't sure if it was mine. I didn't know if I could tell what was me and what wasn't. My body felt like a damn wreck.

I tried to move, tried to get up, but my body was just heavy, like I was stuck in mud. I couldn't feel my arms, my legs, none of it was workin'. Everything was slow. The shock of the impact still vibrated through me like some twisted aftershock, like the world was still shakin'. I could barely hear the sirens at first, but they were comin'. Louder. Closer. But it didn't feel like they were comin' fast enough.

Reality was settin' in, cold and ugly. I was tryin' to put it all together, but my mind wouldn't cooperate. My adrenaline was wearing off, and what was left was pure, raw fear. That kind of fear that gets in your bones, that tells you it's not over yet. The continuous horror. It hadn't stopped. It was still there, hangin' in the air, thick and suffocating.

My head was poundin', and my body was a damn wreck, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something worse was comin'. My mind was still stuck on the crash—on the way everything flipped so damn fast—but it wasn't over. I could feel the world still movin', the car still breathin', creakin' like it wasn't ready to stop. It was like the wreck didn't want to let go, like the universe was just playin' with us.

I tried to focus, tried to look around, but everything was a mess. The car was wrecked beyond recognition. Glass everywhere, twisted metal hangin' off the frame like the body parts of a dead beast. The airbags had exploded, puffed up like a goddamn pillow fight gone wrong. My hands were stuck in the seatbelt, and I couldn't get free.

I couldn't see my parents. Couldn't see nothin' but smoke and blood, and I couldn't move enough to check on them. I didn't know if they were even breathin', man. I kept tellin' myself, They gotta be alright. They gotta be okay, but that doubt just gnawed at me, dug into me like a damn knife.

And then, I heard somethin'. It was faint at first, but the sound grew louder. A low, guttural moan, like something was crawlin' out of the wreckage. I froze. My heart skipped a beat. My breath was caught in my throat. Is that…?

It was like a nightmare I couldn't wake up from. I tried to turn my head, but everything was heavy, like my brain was too slow to catch up with what was happening. My neck felt stiff. The world spun in circles again. The car, the wreckage, everything was blurrin', like I was watchin' it through a dirty window. The moan came again, and I realized—it was my dad.

I finally broke free from the seatbelt and crawled over to him, my body feelin' like it didn't belong to me anymore. My hands were shakin' as I grabbed his arm, but he didn't move. His face was pale, his eyes barely open, and blood was tricklin' down from his forehead. The sight of him like that, so damn still, it punched me in the chest. Dad… please don't be gone.

"Dad!" I tried to yell, but my voice came out weak, barely a whisper, like the words were gettin' stuck in my throat. I shook his arm again, harder this time, but no response. My chest felt tighter than ever.

In the background, the sirens were gettin' louder, closer, but they still felt too far away, like they were stuck in another dimension. The only thing that mattered right then was whether or not I could get him to move. I couldn't let him stay like this. He was sup0posed to be strong. He was supposed to be my rock.

I looked over at my mom, tryin' to focus through the haze of smoke and wreckage, and I saw her slumped against the door, eyes closed, blood on her clothes. It was too much. Too much for my brain to even handle. My vision blurred, my heart was poundin' in my chest like it was tryin' to beat its way out.

I thought I heard someone shoutin'—it was hard to tell, but I knew it wasn't me. It was too loud, too real. I could barely keep my eyes open. My mind was draggin' me down into the blackness, and I felt like I was gettin' swallowed whole. Don't pass out. Don't you dare pass out now.

The sirens were so close now, I could hear the screechin' tires, the thump of boots on pavement. People were comin', help was comin', but it felt like it was all just movin' too slow. I reached over, desperate to pull my mom free, but everything was too heavy. I couldn't move fast enough, couldn't do enough. And the panic just kept risin', clawin' at me.

Suddenly, everything went silent again. No sirens. No moaning. Just the sound of my breathin', heavy and ragged. The weight of the moment crushed me. Was this it? Was this the end?

Everything around me was a haze-smoke, blood, and shattered hope-and I couldn't stop the tears that streamed down my face,

The fear was suffocating,

pressing down on me like a weight

I couldn't escape.

And then darkness

---

When I opened my eyes, the world felt muted, like someone turned the volume down on life. The fluorescent lights above me buzzed faintly, and the sterile smell of the hospital hit me like a punch. My whole body ached—head throbbin', chest heavy, and my legs felt like lead weights.

At first, I thought I was dreamin'. But then I saw him. Grandpa Jason, sittin' by my bed in his old worn-out military jacket, lookin' like he fought the hospital itself just to sit there. His face was a mix of steel and sorrow, the kind of look that could cut through any question I had before I could even ask it.

"Kid…" His voice was rough, like gravel, but quieter than usual. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hat in his hands. "You're awake. That's... good."

I tried to speak, but my throat was dry as hell. The words came out like sandpaper. "Gramps… where's Mom and Dad?"

His eyes—man, I ain't ever seen my grandfather look like that before. Like all the fight he had left was used up just sittin' there. He looked away, stared at the floor, and sighed. "Aaron…"

The pause hit me harder than any words could've. My chest tightened, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe.

"Kid, they didn't make it." His words were blunt, like he thought ripping the band-aid off fast would hurt less. But it didn't. It felt like my chest caved in, like someone ripped my heart out and stomped on it for good measure.

"And… your little brother…" His voice cracked, something I'd never heard before. "He… he didn't make it either."

The room got so quiet, I could hear the faint hum of machines and the distant chatter in the hallway. I stared at him, my vision blurry with tears I didn't even realize were fallin'.

"No… no, that's not…" I shook my head, tryin' to deny it, tryin' to make it untrue. "They… they can't be gone."

Grandpa Jason leaned back in his chair, rubbed his face with his calloused hands, and sighed again. "I know it ain't fair, Aaron. Damn it, I know. But life don't play fair. Never has, never will."

I couldn't hold it back anymore. The sobs came hard, wrackin' my chest like a freight train. He didn't move to comfort me—Grandpa wasn't the hug-and-cry type. Instead, he just sat there, his own grief written all over his weathered face, and let me break.

"Your folks were good people," he said after a long silence. "Your mom had a smile that could light up a damn room, and your dad…" He chuckled bitterly. "Well, he always did have more jokes than sense."

His attempt at humor didn't land—not this time. It just made the weight heavier.

"They'd want you to keep goin', Aaron. To stay strong," he said, his voice steady but soft. "And I know that's askin' a lot from a kid who just lost damn near everything. But you've got me, and we're gonna get through this. You hear me?"

I didn't respond, couldn't respond. The pain was too fresh, too raw. But deep down, I knew he wasn't gonna let me fall apart completely. Not on his watch.

For the first time, though, I saw him not as the unshakable man who could fix any gun or survive any fight. I saw him as a man who'd just lost his son, his daughter-in-law, and his unborn grandson. And that made it hurt even more.