She was her own superhero. She had a cape around her neck, dreams in the palm of her hand and her soul tucked in her back pocket -Caped Crusaders.
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(Copyright. Copyright. Copyright. This is me telling you do not steal anything from this book.)Chapter .1
Death. Death. Death. A strong way to start a story, But thats the only way this story can start. Not with my death but someone else. Emily Miller my sister.
I've always wondered why black has been chosen for mourning color. Is it because of how dark it is and when we are sad we don't want to let anything light and happy in? Or is it because it reminds us of rain clouds on a stormy day, or night time when we can't see, when it all seems hopeless. Maybe it's to blend in so that no one can see us crying. Or because most people look stylish in it.
I don't exactly know.When I was 7 I got lost at the supermarket for 50 minutes. I though my mother had forgotten about me. I didn't cry.
When I was 9 I had a bike wreck and scraped my knee. It bled for two hours and I had to get stitches. I didn't cry.
When I was 11 my "boyfriend" Tom Kinder dumped me at recess in front of the whole playground. He had told me it was because I had cooties and I wasn't pretty. I didn't cry.
When I was 13 I invited the entire class to my birthday party, only four people showed up. Mom, Dad, Emma, and Shay, my best friend.
I remember at my great grandfather's funeral everyone around me was crying, some sobbing their shoulders shaking with grief. I remember thinking why am I not sad like them? And I know now that it was because I never really knew him aside from family reunions and thanksgiving dinners when he would ask me all of the awkward questions no one really wants to answer but we do any way like how is school going? You making straight A's? Have you got a boyfriend?because not answering would be even more awkward.
But, I knew my sister. I new her very well. I could practically read her mind at times.She always had tea parties with me or let me do her makeup and hair. She made my 8th birthday the best. She watched cartoons and ate ice cream with me as though i had gone through a real break up when Tom declared we were over. She asked the real questions. She would listen to my problems and give the best advice. Aside from Shay she was my best friend.
So that is why at her funeral surrounded by my family and friends I cried.
YOU ARE READING
I'm probably never going to finish this story 🤷♀️
Fiction généraleI'm Kennedy "Blue" Miller. Yes my sister has just passed away. No I don't want you to comfort me, and no there is nothing you can do to help....Go on shoo shoo Blue Miller: Awkward, Sarcastic, Has a weird obsession with Balloons. Meets William Johns...