Ethereal

The worst part of being an older sister is the guilt. When you figure out what happened and it settles into your head, the first thing you think of is "Why wasn't I there? Why did I let this happen?". Even though it isn't your fault. Even though you were sick and stayed at home. Even though you could blame your parents more than yourself... even though you know if you were there, it would've just been both of you.

The looks the neighborhood kids and their parents give me makes me wish I was there. I would've rather been involved in a near-death experience than face unwanted memories everywhere I go. Suddenly, everything about her is resurfacing through forgotten 1st-grade friends and Facebook moms who thought she was a "well-rounded kid, gone too soon". Yes, I know she loved your dog. I remember how sweet she was to your kids, even though they would throw rocks at her when your back was turned. I don't care that she wanted to babysit your toddler, or paid for your oranges when you were at that one bodega. She's dead, and you stopping me on my way to the lake doesn't make me forget that. Thank you, but I'd like to return your pity.