I stared down the empty hall. I could hear her maniacal laughter, the scratching on the door and walls, her cries for big sis to come help her. I could hear her throwing up. I can't help her. Big sis said to never open the door.
"Mother is sick." She would tell me.
I remember walking by the door once. She was throwing up blood again. I could see the crimson liquid seeping underneath her door. Before I could react, she started slamming her hands into the door and scratching again.
She screeched, "LET ME OUT! LETMEOUTLETMEOUTLETMEOUT."
I was frozen in horror. Big sis had to pull me away from the door that day.
Big sis told me that her illness killed her a month later. It was common in our family, I suppose. I mean, it happened to Aunt Grace as well. I couldn't understand it though, and big sis never explained it. I believed it was the best decision for now.
I mean, I was only eight years old at the time.
- Anonymous