Stories of an Accident

Rosey Main Age 5

By BnanaTaylor

My name is Jenna Main. Rosey was my little sister.

Rosey was always happy. Like, obnoxiously happy. It would annoy everyone how happy she was.

My parents owned a convenience store in the parking lot of a QFC. Rosey, our brother, Jeremy and I always hung out there after school. We'd get sodas and candy for free, play games in the back, work the register. It was a lot of fun. But it was a lot of work.

We had chores like mopping the floors or helping lock up the store at night. Of course, Rosey was younger and couldn't do some of the chores. Usually she'd get done first and get into stuff. Like drink an extra soda, or open a pack of gum and shove every piece in her mouth.

Her favorite soda was called Monkey Juice. It was relatively new. Everyone was raving that the new ingredient they put in it that made it taste amazing. Others said it was dangerous and should be illegal. We didn't listen to them.

One day Jeremy was sick, so it was just Rosey and I. Since Jeremy was home in bed, I had double the usual amount of chores. I tried to get done early, but with still many chores, it took me at least an hour. When I was done I looked around to see Rosey had left the table where she was doing her homework. I searched the isles, calling her name. I heard a can drop in the back and rushed over. There I saw Rosey, in a ball, on the floor.

I could have passed out, I was so scared. For a second I had forgotten everything I had ever been told to do in an emergency. It took 23 seconds to come back to my senses, I counted. I ran to the phone on the wall behind the cash register. I dialed the number that has been pounded into my brain since I was an infant.

Ring. Ring. Ring. "911, where is your emergency?" A man with a deep voice asked.

"Th-the convenience store on 72nd and Pine." I studdered, clutching the phone. A tear feel down my cheek. I felt like I was going to puke. How did this happen?

"What is your emergency?" The man asked, sounding so calm and collected.

"My sis-sister, Rosey. She, she, I don't know. She drank some soda-"

"What's the name of the soda?" The man asked, a little less calm.

"Monkey Juice. She loves that stuff."

"You need to get her some water. An ambulance will arrive soon." I rushed to the drink isle and grabbed the first water I saw. I twisted the lid and let it fall to the ground. I crouched next to Rosey and brushed aside her strawberry blonde hair. I poured water into her mouth and hoped she'd swallow. I waited one second. Then two. Then three. Then four. More tears flooded down my face.

"Swallow Rosey. Please." I whispered laying my head on her chest. Just one sign. One glint of hope. Nothing.

"God damn it!" I screamed I sat up and placed my hands on her chest. I had no training in CPR, but had seen it done in movies and TV shows. Whats the worst that could happen.

I remembered everything I had ever seen on TV. I pressed 30 times and then breathed into her mouth twice.

Nothing.

I tried again, sniffling and wiped my face.

Nothing.

I tried a third time, pressing a little harder.

Nothing. I tried a fourth time, pressing harder.

Nothing.

I tried one last time. I pressed hard at the beginning, but by the last compression, I couldn't even hear the sirens outside. Paramedics crouched next to her. They spoke but I couldn't hear.

They picked up her limp body, carrying it to a black bag. They called my parents. My parents were so sad. I knew they blamed me. I blamed me. No one else was there. No one else could have saved her. I could have. If I had been a better sister and checked on her. If I had told her to stay with me. If I had told her not to drink so much of that stupid drink, I'd still have the worlds most amazing sister.