The winter wind blew hard, nudging my soft thin body. My winter boots sank in the deep snow every time I took a step. Under an evergreen tree, I sat on a bench lightly covered in snow. My sweater was wet because of the melting snowflakes that fells from above. I watched a couple of children, playing in the snows of December, from afar. I heaved a chilling sigh and then memories came in a flash back.
I sneaked out of my room, passing through the windows of our house, revealing snowflakes falling. It's winter, just as my sister, Allison and I waited for. I ran to her room quietly, not to wake our parents up.
As I jumped to Allison's bed, I shook her body and kept on calling her name. She twitched, slowly opening her emerald green eyes and then glared at me in confusion.
"What? It's only 5:00 am." Allison sat upright, pulling her legs to her chest and rubbing her eyes.
"It's winter Ally. It's winter!" I joyfully mumbled, pointing at the room's closed window. "Time to play in the snow."
"Really?" She jumped out of bed and opened the window. I was also already on my feet when she looked at me, smiling. That was one of the rarest things she does—to smile.
Allison grabbed me at my arms and ran out of the house. I smiled as I saw her acting normal. Not worrying about problems, not worrying about what our neighbors would think and say about her. She's not born to be normal, she's born to suffer, in her lung cancer. It has been killing her on her years of living. We all felt pity for her. She should not be experiencing such things at her age. I maybe younger than her, but I can feel how hard it is for Allison to live in fear. Fear of dying and fear of leaving us, her family.
We played, circling around. Our hands clasped together, feeling the heat of each other. I can see the happiness in her eyes. Happiness that only occupy her emotions once in a blue moon. Happiness that she only felt real. And happiness that she can bring wherever she goes.
"I love you Allison." I paused and hugged her tightly.
"I love you too Andrea." She replied, landing a kiss on my forehead.
We both chuckled in laughter and then continued playing: snowball fight, build a snowman, hide and seek and chase one another. I have to make Allison happy. This should be her best day and winter ever. This should be memorable. I want her to be happy, even if it would cost her life. She's shouldn't felt tiredness, as what I recalled from our family doctor.
After a few hours of playing, Allison stopped and so did I. She was after her breath, her palms on her knees. She was panting. Tears began to blur my vision. This isn't it. This is not her end.
"Mom, Dad!" I screamed, my voice almost broken, tears spilling out of my eyes. Allison was already on her knees, excruciating in pain. She's also crying. I knelt down next her and tried my best to calm and comfort her.
"You're just tired, right Ally?" I choked at my words. "Don't worry, you'll be fine."
Mom and Dad came hurrying, in their winter robes, anxiety filled their system. Mom pushed me away and hugged Allison, then hand her to Dad and carried my sister back inside. I was left dumbfounded.
Was it my fault? Or maybe this is really coming. This is better; I can't just keep on watching the pain killing her. Maybe it's better for her to go. It's where she's going either. I wiped my tears and head inside our house, then to Allison's room where she lied on her bed, panting in pain. Mom was holding her hands, telling her to fight and hold on. Dad was calling our family doctor and telling him that his prediction about Allison's life is coming. I stood frozen on the doorway, Allison started coughing blood. She cried. Everyone cried.
Allison called my name, choking. She bowed her head, gesturing me to near her and so I did. I knelt down next to Mom, and she offered me Allison's hand. I grabbed it, holding it for the last chance I'll be holding it warm. The last chance I'll see her alive and breathing.
"Don't-for-get-to-play-in the-snow, with my memories." She cried, letting go of my hands.
The room was filled in agony and remorse. Loud crying, banging walls and unending sniffing. She's gone. Allison's gone. She left us in the cold winter. She left us with her memories.
"I love you honey." Mom kissed Allison in her forehead. "Goodbye."
Dad leaned on the wall, sitting. His face buried in his palms. Not even saying a word, but I know what would be the words he wanted to say. I rose to my feet, feeling the cold wooden pavement, the winter and Allison's dead body. I stared at her body; pale and bald. But however she looked; she's still the most beautiful sister on Earth. The most caring and the bravest.
"We'll still play in the snows Ally. We'll fight with snowballs, we'll play hide and seek and" I sobbed, tears spilling out my eyes again. "And, you'll always be in my memories."
I ran out of the house and stopped where Allison and I played earlier. I fell on my knees, looking above. I screamed at the top of my lungs, calling Allison. But I knew she'll never hear me. Then I talked to Him and told Him to take care of my sister. The moment I closed my eyes, was the moment I already accept Allison's death. The moment she let go of my hands, is the moment I let go of her.
A snowball hit me in the face then it slowly fell down, bringing me back in the reality. The children who were playing a while ago stared at me in shocked. A girl, probably twelve stepped forward, her head bowed.
"I'm sorry to hit you. I didn't mean it. It's just an acci—" I cut her words and kneel in front of her. I held her shoulders and stare into her eyes; emerald green just like Allison's. And then it reminded me of her. It has been ten years since she died, but her memories never left me. Her face was always on my mind.
"It's okay." I hissed. "Want to play?" She smiled and so as her friends. She pulled me in my hands and played with one another. I maybe older than them, but I'm doing this for my sister's last thing she want me to do and it is to remember her whenever I play. Allison may pass away but our bond will always stay with me. Just like an evergreen tree, it's never dying.
