Stop

one.

I was the second person they called when they had found my sister's body. First was my parents, but they were overseas.
I try to remember my initial feeling or reaction but the entire day is a blur.
I woke up like I normally would, I got dressed, I brushed my teeth, and I started to get my backpack when my phone started to ring.
I remember not recognizing the number, and I usually wouldn't have answered, but something told me I had to answer that call.
Sometimes I wish I didn't. Like maybe it would have held off all of this.
I don't remember much after that though. I drove over and identified her body. They might have asked me questions but I couldn't tell you what they asked or what I told them. What would I tell them? "Yes this is my sister. She's only 19 years old and shouldn't be on this table with her skin this cold. She should be running around doing whatever it is she does."
I don't remember driving home. I don't remember anything from the rest of the day of the night.
I kind of remember the day after that. My parents still hadn't come home. I didn't go to school. I felt numb. I felt like I felt nothing.
The third day my parents came home. I didn't go to school again. My mom was mad that I hadn't been to school. My dad drank in his office.
Now today.
I locked myself in my room, refusing to go to school.
It had been about two weeks, after the first couple days my parents stopped trying. They were too busy.
I had only left my room once. To go to her funeral.

They held her funeral outside at the church.
It really was a beautiful day, one of those first days of spring where it's just the right kind of warm and there's a slight breeze. I remember seeing butterflies and bees flying around.
I also remember screaming when I walked up to her casket.
I couldn't help it, I saw her pretty face all done up with makeup, but it wasn't how she would have done it. She would have hated it.
It was a drastic difference to the face I had seen less than a week previously. The last time I saw her she was smiling, but she was always smiling. Always happy.
She was getting ready to go see her friends I think. I can't remember. How awful is that? I can't even remember where she was going.
They buried her in her favorite dress, or maybe it was only her favorite because my mom loved seeing her wear it. She wore it a few days before she died. How funny I can remember that, but still not where she was going.
I remember screaming and my dad coming to hug me, which made me scream even more.
I didn't want to be consoled. I wanted to scream at whoever did this. I wanted to scream at my parents. I wanted to scream at her to wake up. I wanted to scream at myself for not remembering where she went. I just wanted to scream at anything and everything.
Then I felt nothing. Of course I didn't literally feel nothing, that would be too easy.
I felt the burning in my throat. I felt it start coming up to my mouth. I felt myself running so that I didn't have to puke next to where she was. I felt nothing and everything.
I felt somebody standing behind me, but didn't care who saw me throwing up the nothing I had in my stomach.
I felt the nothing burn my throat even more.
But I couldn't feel my feelings. I was numb.
All those emotions, and then nothing.

"Is there anything I can do?", I heard a voice ask
"You can fuck off", I heard myself saying
I don't don't why I said that really.

"I can't really do that", I heard the voice again, "we're at a funeral. That would be pretty rude."

I whipped myself around to see who would dare make a joke at her funeral. I was getting ready to scream at them like I wanted to scream at everything else, until I saw who it was.
It was her friend Gus. They weren't best friends, but he was around enough for me to know him. To know that he didn't mean the joke in any way other than for him to cope.
I nodded my head. I can't go back.

"I wouldn't blame you.", he said

And I realized I spoke out loud.
I looked at him, and really looked at him. Not through him like I've done with every body else for the past week.
I saw the sadness in his eyes. Real sadness.
For the first time I realized how selfish I was being.
I wasn't the only who missed her, who was sad. I wasn't the only one who felt like we shouldn't be here.
I got up silently and walked back towards the crowd of people and he followed. He didn't say anything either.
There were so many people.
So many people I didn't even know. I didn't know my sister knew this many people.
They tried to not stare, but I felt their quick glances as I walked by.
I felt their pity and I hated it.
I know they were sad this happened at all, but I knew they were glad it wasn't their kid. It wasn't their friend. It wasn't their sister.
I hated that all these people were here, but knew to some degree they were also sad.
I was able to get through the rest of the funeral with out anymore screaming.
I cried throwing a flower on her casket. My mom cried when they lowered her into the ground. My dad held her. He wouldn't cry here, but I knew he would by himself.
I cried again, knowing I wouldn't see my sister again.