July 7th

That was it. That day, I found my sister's body, in a pool of blood, on the floor with a knife and note next to her, both drenched in blood. The note. . . was a suicide note. I was devastated. I knew that nothing would ever be the same again. She was my best friend, my only friend. I called 911 immediately, convincing myself there might be some chance. . . But there wasn't. Upon investigation, they found no evidence of homicide, and ruled it as suicide. It wasn't shown on the news for this reason. I knew why she did it. . . The suicide note was too bloody for me to read much. I felt so guilty. . . I couldn't stand it. I couldn't stand myself. I couldn't stand what I'd done. Alina was dead.