I opened the door to the old house. I stood silently, holding the knob before swinging the door all the way open. I kept my eyes on my feet, my head slowly shaking. The familiar hallway stretched out before me. I remembered it, bathed in sunlight, laughter flowing down the wooden stairs from my daughter’s bedroom. My wife calling to her:

“Sadie! Lunch! Barbie can wait for a minute while you eat.” 

She would dance down the stairs, so excited to be on summer vacation, or winter break, or even just enjoying the short weekends. Oh, they were so short. We’d eat together. Wonderful creations of pasta or stir fry, or whatever was featured on the cooking channel this week. Kate was a real chef. Such a loving wife. 

I was unworthy to be in their presence, but they loved me. Both of them. I was just lucky to be in their lives. 

Their short, short lives.

I wiped at my face with my hand, my vision blurring. The hallway was dark now. Pictures hung on the wall, the moonlight gleaming off the faces of a once happy family.

I stood there among them, an intruder. A betrayer. 

I walked into the living room, past the photos. I sat halfway into the recliner that waited there. It was my chair, and Sadie and Kate never really sat in it. They sat on the couch usually, or on the floor wrapped in blankets and making a fort out of pillows. I stayed in my chair. 

Sadie sometimes would hide under the table and pretend that she was in a doll-sized mansion. Her doll, a red-haired, homemade ragdoll, would talk like royalty, a squeaky, british voice that ordered maids around or blessed the residents of some imaginary, small village. 

I looked at the table. The dark mahogany top was gleaming silver in the light from the window, but underneath the table was nothing but shadow. A dark, cavernous tomb. 

I rose from the chair and walked to the stairs. I found myself at the top, opening Sadie’s bedroom door. Her bright pink walls and flowery bed quilts were cast in gray light. Wilted and dead. Her ragdoll was on her pillow, lying face down. I picked it up.

I looked into the face of the smiling doll.

“Do you know what happened?” I asked the doll. The doll’s smile stared back at me, unchanging.

“I’ve killed her. Both of them. I killed my family.”

I sat down on the bed and began to sob. 

“I didn’t sleep well last night. I shouldn’t have been driving. Kate offered to drive! Why didn’t I let her?” 

I held the doll up to my face.

“You’ll never see her again, don’t you know that?” I was screaming at the doll. How could she be smiling? 

“Didn’t you love her? Didn’t you love her like I did?”

I tossed the doll into the corner of the room. It bounced off the wall and landed on its back, its head propped against the wall and staring at me from across the room. 

“Yeah, well…the eighteen-wheeler was hauling pipe of something. It was stopped at the light. We hit it pretty hard. They were impaled.” 

My voice cracked and my face was wet. I put my hands on my face and sobbed even harder. 

I stayed in Sadie’s room for hours. I watched as the moon moved the shadows across the floor. The doll watched me cry, still wearing that same smile.

The moon moved behind some trees out on the front lawn and the room was bathed in complete darkness. I lifted my head out of my hands and looked at the doll, but now, the doll was gone.

I squinted my eyes in the dark room. I looked in the corner, then the other corners, then under the bed and on top of the dresser and even in the closet. No doll.

I shook my head.

“I can’t do this. Not right now.”

“Here you go, Daddy,” her voice called.

I turned around. Standing in the corner, holding her doll, was my daughter. Sadie was smiling at me. She had blood streaming down her face from a large gash in her head.

“Sadie!” I said, grabbing her off the floor and hugging her tight against me. “You’re hurt, baby.”

“I know. I don’t feel it, though.” She smiled as she spoke, pulling her doll close to her.

“I’m sorry I hurt you, Sadie.” I looked into her bright eyes.

“It’s ok, Daddy.” She yawned and smiled at me.

“Let’s get you to bed, honey.”

I pulled back her bed sheets, the flowery quilts suddenly looking bright and playful once again.

Sadie yawned again as her head hit the pillow.

“I’m going to get you a bandaid for your head. You go ahead and get some sleep. I love you, Sadie.”

“Love you, too, Daddy.”

I smiled at her as she blinked slowly, just about to fall asleep.

I stepped out of her room, heading to the bathroom where the band aids were kept. 

“Cliff.” 

I heard Kate’s voice as I walked past the bedroom.

I turned quickly, running into the master bedroom. Kate was laying in bed, a book in her hands and the lamp beside her turned on. The room had a warm, comforting glow. Kate sat halfway up in bed, propped up by two pillows. The pillows were shining in the lamplight, soaked in Kate’s blood. 

“Kate!” I ran over to her. “I’m so happy to see you.”

I pulled her into a hug. Her arms were warm and wet. 

“You’re hurt, too.”

“I know,” she said. “I feel ok, though.”

“I’m sorry about today, Kate. I should have let you drive.”

“No, it’s ok, hon. We’re together now.” She rubbed her hand up and down my arm.

Sadie came running into the bedroom, doll in hand. 

“Daddy, I’m scared!”

“It’s alright, Sadie. You’re safe now.”

“Is the truck going to come back?”

“No, never again.” I ran my hand through her wet hair, my hand now coated in black blood.

“I’m going to get you both some band aids, ok?”

Sadie and Kate smiled, and Sadie climbed under the sheets next to Kate. I smiled back, ready to crawl in bed beside them.

The band aids were under the cabinet in the bathroom. I flicked on the light and opened the door, finding the box right where I thought it would be. I closed the doors and stood up, looking at myself in the reflection of the mirror. 

I saw my hands and arms were coated in the blood of my wife and daughter. I didn’t care. I was just happy to have them back. The bathroom light glinted off of my silver necklace, shining into my eyes. I reached up to feel it, but it wasn’t there.

Huh, I thought. It must have fallen off in the crash.

Instead of a silver chain around my neck, there were small bits of glass. I rubbed my finger across the bright specks of light. The shards were actually quite large, and as I poked at one with my finger, a long pool of blood began oozing down my neck. 

“Doesn’t hurt much.” I smiled at the mirror and turned off the light, rejoining my family in the bedroom.