I woke up in the morning with another puddle of sweat spread across my sheets. "bad night" I thought to myself. At this point I had given up on analyzing my dreams, trying to remember the sequence of events and why I had woken up in short breaths and a panicked scream. There wasn't a motive. I already knew what the dream was about, It was the same one that had haunted my every thought since that humid night in May. It had been nearly a year and it seemed as if the rest of the world were in the lead and I puttered behind. I gave up on winning a long time ago. I probably gave up on everything the moment my parents forgot I existed. It was almost as if I was killed along with Bradley. The only difference was that they mourned him, and fought through an amount of grief that didn't even compare to my existence. Most of the other girls thought I was lucky; I could get away with anything now. I smoked, flunked almost every math test that crossed my path, ignored my homework and even quit cheerleading, but I didn't do it because I could, I did it because I had to. It was the only way. The closest I could get to being noticed. If I was a problem child, I was at least a visible child, as opposed to sweet little Ginger, who cried if her report card had anything lower that an A minus. Who spent hours rehearsing the routine for cheerleading before Lisi Harper, team captain even taught us it. Who spent her Friday nights playing Parcheesi at grandma's house and baking cookies. I used to be Ginger. Now I'm just anonymous.
Guys used to watch me in hallways, girls used to loath me. My blonde hair used to drop to my back and yellow was my favorite color. I was innocent, boring.

As I stumbled into trig stoned, I could feel Brent's eyes on my lower back making his way down to my butt. I had slept with him two weeks ago and he is in some way convinced that I'll do it again. I would at least have had it in my head by now that I'm not that kind of girl. I'm not going to come crawling back to anyone. That makes me weak. The room seemed to be spinning, It always felt that way right after smoking a joint. It would clear up eventually. I only prayed that Miss Anne wouldn't call my name because I had no idea what was going on, but she never did anymore. She gave up on me too.

Walking my way home, it was strangely cold for early may. The clouds were moving across the sky quickly, playing a game of peek-a-boo with the sun. I imagined bright red lips in the center of the sun, smiling.

"Where's Ginger?" she teased. and as the sun peaked out from the flakey cloud she shouted "There she is!"

I imagined my mother. did she even question my absence? I had been gone at least an hour or two. And when I would eventually stumble into the foyer, most likely high, she wouldn't even bring herself to notice those blood shot eyes, or the smell of weed on my clothes. My hair would probably resemble more to a bird's nest, but that wouldn't matter, because I don't matter.

I remember when I was five and we were at the community pool. My dad was holding me above the water, teaching me to swim, and Bradley was calling my dad, wanting him to watch him dive. As he bounced himself on the board my eyes widened. I felt scared for Bradley, and as he pushed himself into the humid air I felt a ping of jealousy flow through my torso. He turned his body upside down, his arms forming a sharp arrow and pushing himself into the clear pristine water. It was amazing. I admired my brother's glory, his beauty. I found that simple jump so magnificent. As the day came to dusk and my skin was warm and tight from the sun shining down on my pale freckly skin, my father, brother and I packed our towels and sunscreen bottles. My father had made his way to the minivan and I was told too stay seated on the plastic, damp beach chair. Bradley was talking to a friend and the pool was empty, the life guard was off shift when I glanced at the diving board, vacant. It was torturous. I couldn't help myself but to skip my way over to the white board. I climbed the small ladder until I was up nearly five feet in the air. I looked down. My reflection was smiling ear to ear. The girl in the water seemed more than happy. She looked as if she was where she belonged. I was completely aware of the fact that I couldn't swim but that didn't stop me. I bounced up and down on the board. Then I stopped and stood still. I started from the back and slowly walked myself off, like I was walking the plank. I imagined a group of pirañas at the bottom circling my smile and that made me feel happier. I felt brave. I held my eyes open wide and as I fell those five simple feet I was flying. My body formed from one being to another. I was floating through a different universe. I was a warrior. And as I sank to the bottom of the pool I could feel the open smile. the world was so beautiful from underwater. I was living in a snow globe. A perfect world.

I remember awaking to my father's voice. I remember his relief as I opened my eyes to meet his bright green glassy ones. He had been crying. I remember asking why he was so upset. I remember his response.

"I don't know what I would do if I lost one of my children"

But I do know. He would neglect the other.