I remember walking by and hearing her scream. It was a shrill scream at the top of her longs, terror etched into every note. I remember freezing in my spot where I was, not knowing what to do or where to go. My heart beating and eyes gouging out of my head, I was stuck in my spot and I couldn’t ove. And then it stopped. The bell rang and the day went on as usual. I remember standing in the hall by myself freaking out over what just happened. Nobody else noticed, just me. I let it go. It must not have been a big deal. She probably just hurt herself or something.
I remember driving home that day, stuck at a red light, contemplating if I should just run it. I remember seeing the car crash, tumble over and over, yet nobody did anything. Who was I to help, I was only a high school kid with bad acne and low self-esteem. The light turned green, and I kept driving. The ironic thing is that nobody stopped to help that car; everyone swerved around it and kept going along their merry way. Again, I forgot it and kept going.
  I remember that I kept driving, trying to focus on the road ahead of me and not about the accident behind me. I remember driving when the light turned yellow, and I sped up trying to catch it before it turned red. I remember hearing the loud howl, the cry for help. I looked back and there was a dog, my dog, laying on the street and bleeding to death. Nobody helped my dog. I couldn’t let this ruin me--it was an accident, keep going. So I kept driving, making my way home, forgetting about all of the traumatic experiences I just witnessed.
I remember getting home, completely frazzled by the day I just had, and going straight up to my room. I remember hearing that loud scream again, panicking that this time it might be someone from my family. I remember running downstairs and seeing the blood oozing out of my mother’s chest. I ran to her, trying to help her, for somebody to help her. I remember nobody helped. I remember watching her die in my arms with no clue of how it happened. That was that.
I remember the girl; I remember the car; I remember my dog; I remember my mom.
“Honey, someone’s here to visit you,” the psychiatric nurse said.
There’s my family--my mom and dog included. I remember now. I remember. I’m crazy.