The sun doesn’t wake me up. I wake up on my own before the sun even rises, lying in bed facing the ceiling with Briar breathing loudly and deeply in the loft bed and Georgia falling half off the bed in her sleep. I feel incredibly alone, the only conscious person in the room. A turmoil of emotion amidst the peace of sleep. When you’re sleeping, all the problems and the worries go away and everything seems to be alright. Because you don’t know anything. Whatever happens while you sleep is outside of you. You don’t have to think about anything. You’re not aware of anything. I wonder if my family members who died were sleeping when they died. I wonder if you die in your sleep, if you can tell. Maybe you just continue to feel like you’re dreaming. Maybe it’s nice.