That One Game.

a f t e r - m a t t h e w

Grace was my annoying big sister. She'd tell mum about who I'm dating and literally go CSI on them. It's no wonder I'm single.

But Grace never did anything wrong. She was always the perfect daughter, perfect friend and perfect sister.

I wasn't there when it happened. I wish I was. I could have done something, said something, to stop Grace. But I wasn't, so I couldn't.

I always took Grace for granted. I'd moan when she'd hug me. I'd complain when she makes me the wrong drink. By the way Grace, I still don't like orange.

She was an embarrassment. She's kiss me before I got into school and my friend would pick on me. I'd moan to them about how much I hated her kissing me but I'd give anything for one more kiss.

Nothing has been the same since we found out. Grace's room is untouched and my room is a tip. Not because I'm lazy or can't be assed, it merely because of Grace.

I'm not blaming her, not in a million years. But I got angry.

Why or how could my sister, the one who told me to look both ways before crossing the road, be so stupid?

I threw things, lamps, teddies and drawers. It's all strewn across my bedroom floor.

I keep waiting for Grace to burst through to door to tell me to 'clean this shit up', like she'd told me a million times before.

She never comes.

She never will do.

•

"Are you sure you want to do this, Raynee?" Dad asks mum.

Both of their faces are grey from malnutrition and lack of much needed sleep. Their eyes are bloodshot from the millions of tears.

"Y...yes." My mum chokes out.

I wrap my arms around her and pull her into my chest, where for the next five minutes, she cries.

I'm not going to lie and say I didn't cry because I did. I stood and cried with a few delicate jewels dripping onto my mums brown hair.

Mum leans away from me and wipes away her fresh tears. She stands up straight and my dad grabs her hand before they both grab mine.

We stand in a circle for a minute before I break away, I take a couple of steps towards that white door with Grace's name plaque on it.

I grab the golden door knob and twist it. The door opens with a loud squeak.

"She always said that needed oiling." Dad laughs shakily.

I walk into her room first.

The room still smells of the Chanel No5 perfume she uses. The scent is only just there but I can smell it as if someone just sprayed it up my nose. Her room is still the pastel pink colour with one wall a huge blackboard. The blackboard still has her best friend's names on it, her to do list and just her doodles. She was always good at art.

I begin to feel clouds of tears blocking my vision. Soon enough, huge ass tears are falling down my face.

I creep over to Grace's bed which by the way is still unmade. I get under her duvet and grab her teddy she has slept with every night since she was born.

I LET MY TEARS TAKE OVER AS I SMELL MY SISTERS SCENT FOR PROBABLY THE LAST TIME.