Now months after her death I'm faced with a group of friends who take their turn to plead their case, each examining my arm and staring into my fears. They attempt to brainwash me with painful memories and beg me to explain, but how do I explain something they already know? Something they already don't care about.
My personality splits, and I crave attention. Every word is separated in my head and lingers as I dissect the meaning. Empty promises burn at my heart, but I guess it has learnt to be strong. I no longer obsess over words, instead I allow my thoughts to dominate my body and I lapse into a daydream. Dreams turn into nightmares, but I don't mind. Because even the things that haunt me, are better than the ghosts of reality. And as I'm carried out of my daydream, I enter my nightmare I will never awake from.
If find it almost impossible to believe one person's emotions, actions, and words, make the path for my future. I am lost in a sea of other peoples choices but if can't save myself, and im unable to drown. And now my sister's death is no longer just a 'bump in the road,' and it consumes my life and thoughts. I'm in a continuous riptide of unfairness.
As I started to walk home, if started to remember every detail of the day she died. Her mid length brunette hair trailing behind her as she ran recreating the drama of the day. I laughed, as she blushed with embarrassment, as I teased her love for any boy with two legs and a heartbeat. Little did if know that that was the last joke if would ever have with her. The last smile and the last memory. Her ghostly figure laughed as she started crossing the road eyes stuck on me, completely obvious and innocent. The screeching of the tires, as they skidded to try and spare her life, the screams of an elderly woman, who proceeded with her day shortly after. Left only with a memory of the girl who was 'too stupid to look.' My emotions rained out of my body, as I lost all control and fell to the ground. The intersection remained silent, but I wept. For the third time this week a set of warm hands lifted my weight and dried my face.
'Elle, please, you have to stop doing this'
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Numb
Teen FictionI was born with love and hope, born to feel in all senses, we both were. Together we achieved life skills in unison. One mind, two bodies, careless and free. We trusted in the future and trusted in positivity, and it took her life. Now it slowly con...