Peony was born on a Saturday. I was twelve years old. I remember it well. She means the world to me. A couple years after her birth, My parents split up. To make it fair, so where Peony and I. She went with my father, and I stayed with mom. It destroyed Mom, being without my father and Peony. Not even eight months after he left, we got a call from the police. Their house had caught on fire and they we trapped inside.
It took three days to dig them out. My father had passed, and Peony was very close to it. Peony came back to us and was taken to a hospital wear she went through six months of hell. That was the worse time of my life. I sat in the waiting room, constantly thinking of the ignorance of my father, the pain of losing him, and the great possibility of losing my sister. My mother was gone mentally. The only reliable person I had left was my Grandmother, who was dying rapidly with breast cancer. I was practically alone, and yet was surrounded by breathing people.
The only long term damage was to my sister's lungs. The ash has forever ruined them. She wheels around a small oxygen cart now.
YOU ARE READING
Breathing is Hard
Teen Fiction"I want to talk about you album cover," Alie Danica stated in a enthused voice. Rye and Dannie both turned to me. "What," I asked, "I didn't take the picture." Laughter came from the crowd who sat behind the cameras. "Can we get the picture up, plea...
