Zyari looked out the window of her car looking at the grave sight, letting out a sigh she didn't know she was holding. She picked up the blue rose, turning off her car, taking her keys out getting out the car holding her keys.
She walked to the grave sight looking down at the names as she walked, knowing she remembered where's his tombstone was. She walked past three more still she stopped at the one that read "𝐙𝐘𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒" she squatted down in front of the tombstone tracing her fingers over the letters "I miss you my heart like bad "she said as her eyes got glossy as tears formed getting ready to drop from brown eyes.
" I'll be lying if I told you ok when I'm not I feel wrong continuing my life, and you can't, it makes me feel sick Milly " she said lowly, letting her tears drop and calling him by the nickname she had for him.
" I always think what if I wouldn't have gone to Daniel's and stayed home with you, you would've stayed in the house with me, but I left you there, and I'll forever blame myself for that and leaving you. I'm so sorry, twin " she added letting her thoughts out about the day of his passing she left her brother in the house by himself to go be with her now ex-boyfriend he had begged her to stay home because he rarely saw the girl because she was with her ex or at his house.
She blamed herself for not staying home with him when he begged her, she blamed herself for his passing. She felt like it could have and would have been prevented if she had stayed home, but she didn't, and now she'll always live with the regret of not staying home.
" I wish you could've seen Kharie she acts just like you, she's mean and bad just like you "she sniffed laughing thinking about her brother's attitude and how his daughters acted just like him.
" She knows who you are I make sure she does she loves screaming my Dada " she laughed, wiping her tears.
She removed the dead rose from his flower pot, replacing them with the new ones wiping the little snow off his tombstone wiping her hand on her sweatpants standing up.
