What They Never Told Me

After the plane crash, my body was never recovered.

My soul drifted back to the home I hadn't stepped foot in for five years.

They didn't know I was dead. They were still waiting for me to come home for Christmas.

When my mom got the call from the airline, she froze for a long time, completely at a loss, before breaking down in tears.

I followed them as they went to the memorial crash site. That was when I noticed something strange—I could see their levels of regret hovering above their heads.

My brother's regret level read: 40%.

My father's showed: 60%.