PROLOGUE
I think everyone has somebody who tells them to do good and be good. To tell them about the do’s and dont’s in life; the what-you-can-do-but-don’t and the hard-but-right-thing-to-do so you can go to heaven, or reach nirvana or enlightenment or whatever it is you believe in when it comes to your end. Everyone has heard that from their somebody. Or at least they’ve heard it from someone before, even if it’s not necessarily directed to them, they’ve heard it.
I have that. That person, I mean. Her name is Natalia, but I call her Tally ever since I could remember. What she used to tell me was to make everything count, to make moments last, to always be thankful, to love everyone equally like a good Christian would. Choose forgiveness over revenge. See the good in every person, everything and in every situation. She told me that I should treasure life and embrace its good and bad. That’s the key to happiness. That’s what she did and that’s why she’s always well-liked and she’s so happy.
She was the role model for the students at St. Thomas Central High. Yes, she was popular. No, she wasn’t mean. Yes, she was worshiped and followed. No, she wasn’t a slut-whore who had sex with almost everyone, or that she went out with hundreds of guys or any popular guy. She was just Natalia. She’s catholic and she goes to parties. She’s sweet and kind to everyone but she can still curse and go wild. She’s not a straight A student but her grades were still good. And yes, she exists and girls like that are actually looked-up to. She’s got fans and yes, she has haters too. But she doesn’t make their lives miserable. Instead, she leaves them alone. She’s not rich, she doesn’t go shopping all the time, or goes out every weekends to get wasted and laid. She doesn’t have the perfect hair, the perfect face, the perfect body or the perfect clothes, but she’s still beautiful. Everyone thinks she’s beautiful. I know she was beautiful. Everyone liked her and I loved her. She was my sister after all.
Sister: As in, we have the same parents which meant that we are biologically related. So why did I write about her in past tense? Well for some of you who still haven’t guessed it yet, it’s because she’s dead. She died exactly 2 weeks before she could turn 18.
Our place was a small town. It was a fifteen minute south ride to the city, and a twenty-five drive going north to the beach. There’s a road on the left outskirt of town where it takes you to the beach from the city and vice versa where you don’t have to pass by the town. Not much people pass there. People drive by there for the scenery of the sunset and sunrise viewing the open ocean. It’s a perfect drive if you want to pause and have a good time, escape, or even to just enjoy the scenery. In Natalie’s case of what I think she had planned: it was a perfect place to drive if you want to die.
She was in a car accident. That was what the police report said. She died because she had too much water in her lungs which lead to a lack of oxygen in the brain and loss of consciousness. That was what the lab report stated. She died because she wasn’t that careful of a driver, because the road was slippery, or maybe even because she was drunk. That is what my parents, her friends, and the people were saying.
She died because she wanted to. It was suicide. That’s what I said, and that’s what I believe. Of course there wasn’t any reason she would do that. Not that I know of. I don’t know why she would do that. In everyone's opinion, she was close to perfect. She was my parent’s favorite. Teachers adored her; the principal was her best friend. She didn’t have a boyfriend, she wanted to finish high school first before she gets into a serious relationship. She wasn’t bullied. She wasn’t an outcast. She wasn’t unhappy. She didn’t self-harm and I know she doesn’t have a secret life. I know her. I know my sister. She was my best friend and I know she was good. Everyone knows that, there wasn’t a single complaint about her. Ask people around town and they can only say good things about her. It’s true. I've tried.
I actually think I’m going crazy for thinking she killed herself. it was an accident, it’s been proven but I don’t accept that. Why I let myself think it was her way out and her style of ending it was beyond me. But that’s what I think. I hate to believe that but I do. And that's what always bothers me. What if it wasn’t an accident? What if she really did do it on purpose? She saw the cliff and its wooden and old railings from a distance. She stepped on accelerate not thinking on making a right turn the road had. Ignoring the all the signs and warning 500 meters before she could even reach that curve. She just headed straight and fast towards the cliff, and went into the open ocean. She didn’t struggle. She didn’t take off her seatbelt. She just sat there. Not holding her breath. She sat still as she allowed the water to float her body free. She was finally letting the darkness consume her drifting away from it all. And as she let the last ounce of oxygen she had left her body, she closed her eyes to oblivion.
That's what I think happened.
