She stood there, silent, unmoving, lifeless, if people were to look at her they might have thought her a statue rather then a human being. Her black hair stood still where it would usually be flowing back behind her even without a breeze, her face covered by it blocking her face from my sight. I didn't have to see it though I knew the expression already. Her face would be blank, expressionless, no hint of anything. Her breathing was not able to be heard, it was deathly quiet nothing was heard.
"Katy?" I whispered in a silent, raspy voice which ushered no reply from her. "Katy?" I said another three times before she finally showed signs of life.
It was a sudden jerk followed by choking like sounds as tears streamed down her cheeks. The initial sound sent a stab of pain in my heart while each sound after intensified till I was starting to tear up myself. Katy suddenly collapsed to her knees still sobbing, mascara running down her face. I couldn't take it anymore and pulled my strength together, crawling to her and holding her. "Katy cry it out, it's okay let it out, I'm here for you, Katrina is watching over us now" I said softly to her as I held her tightly to me, feeling her tears run down my chest, her hands squeezing me tightly as the sounds of her crying seemed to echo throughout the house.
The world seemed to freeze to let her mourn, to let her cry and scream her pain out for the loss of her older sister......my fiance. Katrina seemed to be the one who took care of Katy, the one to protect her from their drunken, abusive, criminal father. Katrina would greet me with fresh bruises and tears running from her eyes but a grin that ran from ear to ear. "Katy is safe" would be the first thing she said whenever that happened. I would go clean her up if there was blood, sometimes but very rarely stitch her up, dad taught me how before he died in a car accident with a drunk guy driving a yellow hummer. After all that we would just lay there, whispering sweet nothings in each other's ears and enjoying each other's presence before one of us had to leave. We never worried about the father attacking twice, he always drinks after he hurts Katrina until he passes out.
A flash of a memory crossed my mind, the worst memory in my life with the exceptions of Katy crying and finding Katrina dead.
