Don't Forget

Fara

I admire my big sister Tilia doing her makeup in front of her mirror. I've always loved watching her get ready for an outing. She had become a fan of makeup at a young age and couldn't live without it even though she looked just as gorgeous without it. She could spend hours on her face to make sure her eye shadow, eyeliner, or lipstick was perfectly subtle or perfectly garish. If she felt like shocking the parents.

When we were young, I used to pull the chair in the corner of her room closer to sit beside her and watch her meticulously work on her makeup. I idolized her so much. She winked at me in the mirror when she saw me admiring her. Sometimes she even let me try her strawberry lip gloss. She knew it was my favorite.

Tilly, her little nickname, finishes applying her mascara. She stares darkly at her reflection for a brief moment before winking nostalgically at herself in the mirror. She smiled sadly as she looked down at her bracelet woven with pink and yellow threads. A gift I gave her a long time ago. The accessory looks worn with its frayed and faded threads, but it never leaves her wrist. "I miss you too, Tilly. I say, aware that she doesn't hear me.

Not having the strength to feel this sadness right now, I look away from my sister to observe the sand-colored walls matched with the coral sheets of the Queen bed in the bedroom. The latter is surmounted by a wooden headboard in which rose motifs are carved. Tilia cherishes these designs so much that even the dressing table she sits in front of is decorated with them.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her adding the finishing touches to her face, and I can't help but be taken by her beauty. She is so pretty with her long black curly hair cascading down her back, her big dark brown eyes and her tanned skin. I always envied her for the latter, because I had unfortunately inherited the pale skin of our father and not the exotic side of our mother.

Tilia finishes brushing her long mane before going to find clothes in her wardrobe. Having the mirror to myself, I take the opportunity to observe the features I have inherited. I have the same eyes as her, but my hair is brown and only reaches my shoulders.

As I run my hand through my hair, I see Tilia putting on a long navy blue dress. This vision pushes me to look at my coat with contempt. Such a childish pink frilly dress that has been making me sick for years now.

Sometimes I think I should have died in simple jeans with a T-shirt, but I had just turned nine and loved anything princess-style. A choice that I regret a little today... but not as much as I regret having died that day.

I don't even remember all the events of that tragic day. All I can remember is going out alone on my birthday to sit on my favorite lakeside rock at our family cabin. Then nothing more...

I come to, when I see the reflection of Alec, Tilia's boyfriend, in the mirror. He cheerfully enters the room and hugs his beloved in his muscular arms, lifting her into the air.

He is a handsome man, tall and imposing with brown hair and hazel eyes. He has a smile worthy of the gods of Olympus. You'd think that with his Apollo look, he would act like a brute imbued with his person, but it's quite the opposite. He is so kind, sweet and caring.

Tilia is completely in love with him. Indeed, at their 23 years of age, they have been officially together for about six years, because in reality their story began long before that... Being a ghost has this advantage. I can tell all the details of their life because I am only an invisible spectator.

—    Are you sure you want to wear this dress, Tilly? Alec asks Tilia.

—    How come? she replies confused.

—    What do you think? he says, spreading his arms and turning on himself.

I watch him along with my sister and see that he is dressed in his leather jacket, his favorite dark jeans and his biker boots. Tilia drops onto the bed, sighing theatrically.