Suffocated

“I’m really sorry for your loss,” my father’s boss looked at him sympathetically. My father did his best to smile as he held my mother closer to him. Everyone kept telling us how sorry they were about my sister, Emily’s death, but after the first fifty times you just start to tune it out. Both my parents looked very tired, they hadn’t slept much the past month; they were always out with the search party. It’s funny how they continued to say that they would find her alive, but we all knew she was dead.
Outside, the air was warm and damp, not a great day to bury your 13 year old sister, but it was the only day the funeral home had an opening. So many young girls have been killed the last year but the killer has yet to be found. Some girls even turn up still alive, but they remember nothing about being kidnapped. Unfortunately, Emily didn’t turn up alive. As they lowered her casket into the ground I thought about how alive she looked laying there, before they shut the lid on the casket, it was almost like she was still breathing. It’s strange that she had no surface wound, but still ended up dead, some people in this world are just disgusting. The people who were shoveling dirt onto my sister’s grave finally finished packing it down and we headed back to the car. The ride home was silent; my parents’ faces were wet with tears from the service.
Back at home I took on the job of cleaning some of Emily’s things. Her room was filled with clothes and stuffed animals. I started packing things in boxes until I could see the wooden floor beneath my feet. Then I saw her bear, the one she had kept since she was about four. It was very worn out and missing an eye, it seemed to call out to me so I went to pick it up. The bear smelled like her and as I held it in my hands I felt as if I could hear her voice. I was almost positive she was calling out to me, it sounded if she was screaming for help, but the sound was too muffled.
That night I lay in my bed trying to fall asleep, I had taken Emily’s bear into my room and it lay next to me on the bed. My eyes began to feel heavy and I knew I would soon drift to sleep. Suddenly I heard a noise much like scratching on the wall next to me; it had to be mice or something I thought. I grabbed for the bear and as I did I again heard Emily’s cries for help. I listened for a long time wondering why I would be hearing these things but then it hit me, Emily isn’t dead.
I shot up out of bed and ran to the garage, after grabbing a shovel I hopped on my bike and began to frantically drive to the cemetery. When I got there it was eerily quiet and gave me the chills, but I didn’t care. I found my sisters grave and began to dig. It seemed like forever until I hit the hard wooden coffin, but as I began to see the beautiful mahogany wood I dropped to my knees and began to scrape off the extra dirt. A light shined down on me, I stopped and turned to see a cop.
“Maim, what are you doing down there?” his voice was rough and tired.
“My sister, she isn’t dead, I need to save her before it’s too late!” My voice was panicked and I began to pull on the lid. The cop jumped into the hole I had been digging and lifted me up. “No, let me go! She’s going to die!”
“Do your parents know where you are?” He seemed almost annoyed but I didn’t care I continued to try and squirm my way out of his tightening grip.
“No.” I managed to say as I twisted my body towards the ground. He then forced me to sit in the back of his squad car and he called my parents. I scratched at the windows showing the cop how distressed I was about the situation until our black car showed up along side the cop car. My mother was in her robe and my father a pair of sweat pants. They both looked upset, but not angry.
“Anna, do you have any idea what time it is?” My mother’s voice was harsh and loud as I stepped out of the cop car. Her eyes had dark circles underneath them.
“Mom, Emily isn’t dead, please. We have to open the coffin, she can’t breathe!” I begged. My mother gave my father a worried look and they both looked back at me.
“Emily is dead. Lets just go home.” My father’s voice was blunt. Unable to listen to them I ran back towards the grave, they all followed me. I struggled to get the heavy lid off of my sister’s body. When I opened it I saw her, stiff and cold. I was astonished I had thought for sure she would have been alive. Just as I was about to shut the coffin lid and give into my parents something warm dripped onto my arm. It was blood, Emily’s blood, I looked at her blue fingers, and her nails were completely torn off. It looked as if she was scratching at the lid for about two hours. My parents were astonished at what I had found. It wasn’t some psycho killer that killed my sister, it was us.