She asked me what it meant to be happy.
If I had been older, I would have known to show concern, to tell her to ask for help.
I told her I felt happy when I was with her, that she was the big sister I never got to have, but that I didn't know how to explain it. The way my chest fluttered at her touch, the way her laugh lit up my life, and the way my stomach flipped when she complimented me.
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Why She Jumped
Короткий рассказBy the time I woke up on January 1st, 2013, Amelia Jackson was dead. Trigger Warning: Suicide Abuse Self Harm (Disclaimer; I do not own the cover image)
