Rosie

Timothy

I don't know what to think anymore. I can't trust anyone. The doctors said Mom would be okay. She's not. She's dead, along with my sister, Rosie, and my soul. Nothing makes me happy anymore. I feel bad because Dad tries so hard to make me smile, but I won't even look at him.

I know he understands what I'm going through and it would help so much to talk things out with him, but I'm scared I'm not strong enough. I'm afraid I'll break down and dig myself further into this hole.

The thing is, I know people who have lost everything, and somehow they all just move on and forget. They all just eventually get over it and live happily again. How? How can they be so senseless? How can you move on when the very person who brought you into this world is gone? How can you move on when the person who, when you were small, every night, would tuck you in to bed, and sing you beautiful lullabies; and when you couldn't fall asleep, would tell you stories, always about two people who meet, fall in love, and live happily ever after, is dead?

How can you move on when the person who held your hand and told you,
"Everything is going to be okay,"
when you realized that life isn't like those stories, and that it doesn't always go the way you want it to, and that it doesn't always end happily, is dead?

How can you wake up every morning and not wonder why God didn't take you instead? Why Mom? Why Rosie? Why am I still here every day, living the same depressing life, soaking in a pool of loneliness and regret?

There are so many things I wish I could have said to Rosie before she died. If I would have known that day was going to be her last I would have told her how much I really loved her. I would have apologized for all the times I insulted her and made her feel self conscious or unwanted. I would have taken her somewhere far away and snapped a million pictures of her smiling and having fun. I would have made her life end like a fairytale; happily. I believe that's all anyone really wants; pure happiness. She deserved it. I wasn't aware of how much I cared about her until it was too late to tell her.

I wish I could travel back in time and live in the past with my sister, and when that day came I would do anything to save her. I would save both her and my mother from the fire. I may even be able to detect how the fire started and prevent it. Then we'd all be together, at this moment, huddled under a warm quilt, sitting by the fireplace watching a movie, as we always did on Friday nights.

There no point in my life anymore, I'm just an old stubby pencil that has been ground down to a point where it's not of any use anymore. I might as well just be thrown away. I'm like a turtle with no shell, a TV with no channels, a book with no pages; utterly useless.

I just want to see my mom's face again, and hear my sisters soft, flowing voice just one more time. I miss them so inexplicably much. Every day is so draining, I feel like I'm constantly being mauled by reality, and when I try to escape it I feel guilty so I just fall back down into its clutches, over and over again. I wish there was some way they could come back. I wish there was some way to make a trade, my life for them back, or even for one of them.