\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1706487-To-My-Sister
Item Icon
Rated: ASR · Other · Young Adult · #1706487
A letter from one teenager to another, after her death.
Last winter, I lost you.

I wish you could see us now.

I wish you knew what you did to us; how stupid you were.

Sometimes I wonder what you regret most.

Mum blames herself for what happened. She thinks you would still be here if she’d spent more time with you. Maybe you would be, but I don’t believe it. You and Mum used to be close. She cooks dinner for you still, did you know that? She cooks for four; brings your serve out with the rest of them. I want to tell her, but I’ll only break her heart again. We eat in silence, until someone notices Mum is crying. I leave first. I can’t deal with it anymore.

Dad’s pretty much the same as Mum. He also thinks it was his fault. He believes he neglected you. Every week, he was at my soccer games, but your volleyball? He never cared. Well, guess what? He doesn’t care about anything, anymore. The only time he’s left the house since it happened was for the funeral.

I regret that you were alone. If I’d been more of a friend to you and less critical you’d be here. If I hadn’t dismissed you because I was busy you’d be here. Maybe I’m wrong, but I could have saved you.

I wish you could see us now.

I suppose one of us should have seen the signs.

It wasn’t until spring that I noticed my expensive jewellery was gone. When did you take it? I didn’t think anyone knew where I hid it. Not until after you were gone, anyway. I’ve changed my hiding place, by the way. Not that it matters. You’ll never find it now.

I never noticed anything different about you. Sure, you were getting thinner; but there were heaps of changes going on in your life. You were fifteen, and just made new friends. I saw that everyday at school. No, I didn’t think they were good influences…but you wouldn’t listen to me, so why should I bother trying to change your mind?

I can see now that the weight loss should have been an indication. But at the time, how was I to know? The more I look back, the more I see the signs. You were tired all the time. From the moment you woke up, to the moment you got home, you wanted to go to bed. I thought it was an iron deficiency. I read about them in health class, it’s extremely common in teenagers, especially girls.

I didn’t talk to you much those last few months, but when I did, you spoke too fast. I’d ask you to slow down, but you’d mash your words together. I never took notice of what you were trying to tell me. Maybe you asked for help once…I wish I’d heard that.

Mum and I were talking the other day, about you. I told her that you’d been acting strangely before it happened. She yelled at me for not acting on it. I left home for a few days.

I wish you could see us now.

More than any of that, I wish I knew why you’d done it. I know what you’d tell me if I asked.

You’d point out to me that, to begin with, it wasn’t serious. There was nothing dangerous about it, just marijuana.

But why did it get more serious? Why didn’t it stop there? Was it the family? Was it me? Something I said? Or didn’t say?

I don’t understand you, or what you did. You destroyed everything with those needles. Not just for you, but for us as well.

I wish you could see us now.

Do you remember when you were 9 and I was 11? I climbed a tree at school on a bet and fell out. I broke my arm, remember? I was terrified – the bone was on a strange angle, I thought it was irreparable. And you, though you were just a kid, you took care of me. You went and got the teachers, you told them to call “Mummy” because I needed help. You were there, wiping away my tears.

The day I found you…I needed you, like you were there for me then. I miss those days. If only we hadn’t drifted apart, none of this would have happened. I could have warned you. I would have noticed.

Instead, I came home from school early – I had last period off – and found a note from you. You told me you were at a friend’s house; you’d be back in an hour.

Two hours passed before it even crossed my mind that you hadn’t returned. Two whole hours, you were out there alone. Do you know how long it took me to find you? I didn’t alert Mum or Dad. I didn’t want them to worry, because I was adamant that I would find you in perfect health. In fact, I was mad at you, for not coming home.

I found you in the public bathroom at the park near our house. Can you imagine? I called in there for you, but no one replied. I was about to leave, but something drew me back there…I’ll never be able to tell you why I went back, but I did. I went in there and saw your foot first. It was just poking out of one of the stalls. I knew it was yours. They were your favourite shoes, you’d even written your name across them. I crept closer. I was as quiet as I could be. I simply wanted to hear you breathe, cough, anything. It was still in your arm. The needle, that is. You lost consciousness before you could even take it out. I called Mum and we got you to hospital.

The doctor’s told us you’d been there for at least 4 hours, dead for two. Mum wouldn’t speak to me for weeks. Dad would speak to me, but he couldn’t catch my eye. I needed you.

I wish you could see us now.

I wish I’d got there sooner.

I wish…I wish I could see you.

Don’t worry, sister, I’m coming for you.
© Copyright 2010 E.J Wilkinson (emmajayne.w at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1706487-To-My-Sister