My Life: Congrats, You Lost Me

Chapter 29 - Pictures and Memories

****September 8th****

I pulled one of my dresser drawers out and looked at its contents. It was full of shorts and skirts from summertime. I pluck them one by one and cram them into the box. Shutting the flaps, I tape the box shut and stack it onto the newly started pile of boxes in the corner. I had 2 boxes packed now. I slide the now empty drawer shut and look around the room.

I could pack up my winter blankets, it won't be cold enough for those before we move. I reach under the bed and pull out a large stack of thick blankets and pillows. I fold up a new box and drop the bedding inside, smashing it to make it all fit into the smaller box. I tape the flaps and pick up the marker from my desk. I push the box over to the pile and start marking boxes.

Jessie's Bed Stuff. Jessie's clothes. Jessie's clothes.

I put the cap on the marker and stand up again. I look around my room and let my eyes rest on my cluttered desk. I should probably get that started. I look around for another box, I was out. Dammit, now I actually have to leave my room. That takes a lot of effort...

I sigh and pull my door open and walk down the empty hallway and into the entryway. I pick up a thick stack of boxes and carry them back into my room in silence. Eliza was busy packing up the living room, and I assume Allan was working on his room. I push my door closed behind me and drop the boxes onto my bed.

I set one on the chair next to my desk and start rummaging through the random objects that lie on top of it. I drop notebooks and other school supplies into the box and have it filled about halfway. I then start tossing close to any of the random little things that lie there into the box. Once its full I close it, tape it, and mark it before setting it off into the pile.

****

3 boxes later I have almost finished my desk and the area around it. That's when I see the pictures I had set against the back. There was one that said I love my daddy, and held a picture of my father and I from when I was only 3. Another held a picture of my mother, Becca, and I all sitting in my old bedroom, reading out of one of those picture books. Dad must've taken that picture, I thought. because Becca was still a baby, so he was still around.

I feel tears well up in my eyes as I look at the pictures. Especially when I see the next one. It was a family portrait. I had 3 of them, actually. One when I was first born, with my mom and dad, one when Becca was born, with all four of us, and one that was made after dad died, with only Becca, mom and I. I let out a sob into my arm as I gripped the pictures tightly.

When did I even get these in here? Have they always been here? I look at the rest of them and see one of Allan and I, our arms wrapped around each other in a seemingly tight hug, from when we were only about 6, in a frame that said "Best Friends Forever". Another, was one of Becca and I, on our first day of school when we were younger. It was Becca's first day of Kindergarten and we had gotten ready here, with the aid of Eliza.

I don't hear my door open, but I jump when I feel a soft touch at my shoulder. It was Eliza. "Jessie," she coos. "What's wrong?" Her eyes shift to the pictures on my desk and she looks at me sadly. "I'm so sorry," was all she said before she wrapped me in a tight hug.

"I miss her so much," I mumble between sobs. "I miss them all so much."

"We all do, Jessie," she whispers. "It'll be alright, I promise." She bends down next to me and lets me rest my head on her shoulder as I drench her in salty tears. "It'll get better."

****September 10th****

My room was nearly finished, with the exception of the things I would take over in a bag after I was done using them on the day we moved. Now it was time to move on to an even bigger challenge. Packing Becca's room.

I stood outside the door for what felt like hours with my hand on the knob and a little voice in my head telling me I didn't have to do it. I turned the knob rather slowly and pushed the door open even slower. I instantly felt my stomach rise into my throat and my eyes well up as I looked around the decorated room.

I cupped my mouth with my hand and fell to my knees in the doorway. She had pictures hanging on the walls, most of them were similar to what I had. She had her favorite toy, a little, blue, rabbit plush, sitting on the foot of her unmade bed. I sat there for several minutes crying silent tears as I stared at everything. I hadn't been into this room since we had moved in. I had never seen what she had in there.

What pushed me over the edge was one of the pictures that hung right above the headboard of her bed. It was a picture in the frame that said, "I love my sister". It was a picture of her and I that was taken on our first day of school, when I started high school.

I cry heavily as I crawl into to room. I manage to stand long enough to sit onto her little bed. Oh my God, she's gone and I have to leave her behind. Salty tears escape the corners of my eyes. They trail down my cheeks and drip off of my chin, onto the sheets of her unmade bed.

I take her rabbit and hold it onto my lap. My feet spread apart and sit on the floor. I keep the rabbit in my hands as I lean over myself. "I can't do this," I choke out.

"Jessie," a familiar voice said. I look up to see Allan standing in the doorway looking down at me sadly. "It'll be alright. It'll get better. I promise."

As he talks he makes his way over to the bed I front of me. He squats down in front of my to be at eye level. "It can't get better. She was the greatest thing in my life and now she's gone. Nothing will ever be the same, Allan." My long speech was in fragments between my thick sobs, some of the words were probably indecipherable to him.

"I'm not saying it's going to be the same, I'm saying it'll get better. You've been here, with me, for so long. Things are going to change. She isn't going to come back. But these are all things that can be mended. Don't let memories of Becca fade, just let the good ones come forward and do exactly that. Move forward, don't move on and act like it didn't happen, because as soon as you do that you'll starts to forget."

"I can't forget, Allan. That's the problem. I can't forget what's happened to move on."

"You don't forget," he whispers softly, moving closer to me. "You just think if the good and not the bad. Trust me I've had to deal with this a lot. Just think about the good things you remember."

I can't respond, I just crumble. I start to cry harder as I fall against Allan's large frame. He wraps his arms around my waist as mine wrap around his neck. He rocks me slowly and we sit there, both of us crying our eyes out. He always seems strong until you get him alone with something sad.

I still clutched the little, blue bunny in my hand as I pressed my salty eyes to his shoulder.