Down With Broken ✓

Part 1: Anxiety's a Beech

I looked out at the crowd and my stomach immediately caught butterflies.

"If everyone would stand, my daughter is about to sing for the angels above," my father dabbed his eyes with his coat sleeve.

It was my younger sister's funeral. She was murdered during a robbery.

It all happened so fast, that even as I stood above the casket, I still felt she was alive.

I gave my best posture as the audience stood in the pews. My mother clapped her hands, wearing that crazy smile and an even crazier church hat.

She was trying to be happy for my sister's sake. It was her final request, but all of us were quickly in tears.

I started to sing, and her death suddenly felt so real.

One off-note cry from me, and I wanted to vanish.

I couldn't do this.

The fear within me started to channel itself and I dropped the mic, leaving the stage.

"Amora!!" my father called.

I found the bathroom and locked myself in a stall, heaving and trying to throw up but nothing would come out.

I cried and sank down to the tiled floor, "Why again?"

{Flashback}

"I always have this feeling that the reason I can't see my future is because I don't have one," my sister, Kyra, said.

"That's dark as hell, but okay," I said, eating another potato chip.

"I mean it, Amora. What if I die young?"

"Would you shut up talking about that?"

"Do you promise to sing for me at my funeral if I do?"

"Look, I'm about to pimp slap th-"

"Will you?" she teared up.

Why was she so sad? She had so much life to live... didn't she?

"Fine. I'll sing," I rolled my eyes, believing it was all some bull crap thinking anyway.

"Thank you," she hugged me, "your voice always brings me peace Amora."

{Present}

"I'm sorry, Kyra..." I cried harder, "I can't do it."

A knock was heard and I hurried to wipe my cheeks.

It was my mother. "Amora...let me in baby."

"I'm so embarrassed mom," I sobbed, "I couldn't even start singing a note in front of those people."

She sighed, "Open the door, honey. I'm not going to laugh at you."

I stood and unlocked the stall, walking out into her embrace.

She kissed my hair, "It's going to be okay."

"I promised her," I sniffed.

She rubbed my back, and I softly inhaled her scent. She always smelled like cinnamon apples. I loved it.

"I know," she told me.

I backed away, and she laughed as she saw my face.

"Mom!"

She grabbed a napkin and dabbed my tear-stained cheeks. "I'm sorry Amora. It's just a tad bit hilarious. You're way too hard on yourself."

I looked at the floor and she gave me one final hug, "I think she'd be proud that you even had the courage to stand on that stage. Besides, you can always sing for her. Doesn't have to be here."