Short stories

3

Her hand is heavy in mine. Her body is cold and almost lifeless. Her breathing coming in spurts, you could barely even tell she was trying to breathe. Her eyes were closed. I lean my head down onto her chest. I hear tiny little beats, but nothing even resembling a heartbeat. Tears then begin streaming down my face, leaving a mark in her winter sweater.
"Y-yes she j-just was sitting on the ground." My mother says between sobs, "the razor is still beside her body."
Neither of us had any idea Juliet would do something like this. She didn't even seem fazed when our dad walked out on us. I guess she was just good at faking it. She was only 16, she had so much of her life to still live on.
"-no she didn't give any signs of k-killing herself", she said putting more than enough emphasis on the last part.
Mom hung up the phone with a worried goodbye. She told me that an ambulance was on the way. I whisper to myself and partially to her "why would you do this", "how could you do this to us".
Soon I heard booming sirens approaching our house. Mum ran to the front door, hurriedly directing the men to my sisters cold body. I get up and stand back, letting them pick up her body off the bathroom floor. They set her on top of a rolling cot, and started heading towards the vehicle.
The long cut was visible underneath her rolled up sleeve. I run behind the EMT's, following my sister. Soon enough I see my mother start heading towards her car. I take that as permission to ride in the back of the ambulance with Juliet. I hop into the back of the ambulance. One of the men slams the doors shut, and soon the vehicle is driving down our driveway. I scoot to the right to be beside Julie. I pick up her hand and begin to rub it with my thumb. I know my sister is still in that body, but I can't seem to see her in there.