death must have a plan

No matter what anyone says, my mother still blames herself for what happened on that chilled August night. There was a birthday party, although I can't remember for who. I was only about five when lost my sister, Jamie. The party was going on in our apartment, and outside the brisk air chilled my sister and I as we played with her barbies. There was no candy bags, or juice boxes and everyone inside where adults. We could hear them bustling about inside, shuffling and dancing around to the steady 80's music that was playing from the stero. Little did we know that this was the last time Jamie would hear music.

Every so often my mother would tap on the window and smile at us with her pearly white teeth. The almost seem to shine as much as the pearl necklace she had around her thin neck. Her short hair would bob as she walked away, all firey red to match her elegant slim dress. She was a happy, young woman who never raised her voice, and never cried. At least, she used to be.

"Do you want to see something cool?" Jamie said to me throwing down the barbies she held. Her voice was just like mine and still haunts my dreams late at night. She climbed the railing and sat facing the street. I was amazed with the ease and swiftness she did it with for a seven year old. She stayed up there swinging her legs and singing "the bear climbed over the mountain" for what seemed like hours. Her blonde hair flowing in the steady wind, and her little thin mouth opened wide so everyone in Orange Avenue could hear. She would turn around at points and wrinkle her little pig nose at me and call me a wuss because I didn't want to go over the railing, with light in her green emerald eyes.

"JAMIE!" mom's shrill voice rang through the glass doors leading to the balchony. She ran towards us in her evening dress, but never made it. Jamie started getting down in a hurry as to not get punished, but she had no way to get back on to the terrace. As she tried to get down from the little railing, the screws must have came loose because it started to rattle and creak. The pure fear in her eyes was horrible, and even I was too late for what happened next. I got up to help her down but before I could reach her, and before my mother could get to the glass doors, the railing fell along with my sister down those five stories. My mom got their just in time to hear my sister's faint thump on the floor along with the rattling of the railing on concrete. Below, a group of people had begun to gather to look at a beautiful little girl in a flowing white dress painted red by her own blood.

My mom's knees buckled as she fell down to the floor holding her hands to her mouth as she cried, and screamed. I stood in shock, and tears fell down my face as it set in that I would never see my sister again.

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