Phoebe walked into the room, closing the door quietly, not making a single sound. She turned to face the room, a room she had been scared of for weeks. She didn’t know why she came here, she convinced herself that she was looking for something, but what it was she had to find out. As she stood there looking around her heart raced, it was pulsating so she could feel the beat in her fingertips. It was as if she could collapse right there, it was what she wanted. This had been her greatest fear for 2 weeks and 3 days now, walking into this room. She had been so strong for these 2 weeks. She showed no sign of weakness. All she showed was blankness, and confusion. Everything had been blurry, filled with pats on the back, and “I’m so sorry,” ‘s. There were times when she just wanted to breakdown, or disappear from the face of the earth. This, however, was the one thing Phoebe couldn’t do...she couldn’t fall apart. Her older sister, Piper, was in much worse shape. She was angry, and upset 27 year old, and falling into a dark whole. For Piper though, this was normal, she usually was emotional about certain things. Of course Phoebe was normally just as, or more emotional. While, at 25, Phoebe was supposed to be weaker, but with her sister a wreck, Phoebe was left to do the one thing she had never been good at- taking charge.
She walked slowly- step by step- still not knowing what to do. Still not knowing why she was here. She walked to a chair by the window, and sat down- the only thing she could think of doing. She’d stare at objects losing her train of thought for seconds, maybe minutes at a time, she couldn’t say what her mind was getting lost was blank to her.
Phoebe sat in the chair, feeling out of place. Though she had been in this room several occasions before: when she got dumped for the first time by her first “love”, when she had a nightmare, and when she was younger she’d sit on the bed and watch her older sister get ready for a big date or dance. Sisters.
This room belonged to her eldest sister, Prue- she was four years older than Phoebe. Was...a word that Phoebe had yet to grow accustomed to. Nearly two weeks ago Prue died, and as Phoebe sat in Prue’s chair today it finally seemed real, it was finally cleared- her sister was really gone. Her strongest, most protective sister is dead. It still didn’t quite fit yet, nothing did. The more she sat the more she realized that she was waiting – waiting for Prue to come home and bitch about work like always, waiting for Prue to tell her about a new cute guy she met. She was even waiting for Piper, and Prue to tease her about everything...anything.
Phoebe leaned back against the chair and breathed in the emptiness of the room. A room that was once full of life was now dead. A room that belonged to the strongest person she knew, had now become the weakest part of her life.
Phoebe mustered the energy to get up, and she went to Prue’s bureau to see everything on top. Everything had been untouched since the day Prue died. As Phoebe raised her hand to touch the necklace that had inscribed on it: Prue, which Phoebe had gotten Prue for her birthday just a few months ago, Phoebe was overwhelmed with another rush of the feeling that she was out of place. She saw, right beside Prue’s jewelry box, there was a picture of the three sisters. Phoebe was lying down across Piper and Prue’s laps and the two of them had their arms around each other. The picture was taken two years ago. A picture of much happier times. Her emotions couldn’t deal with this anymore, and she was beginning to lose control. Phoebe backed away until the back of her legs struck the bed. She fell onto the bed, getting hit with the rush of everything, from the smell of Prue’s bed to the warmth Phoebe felt whenever Prue would hold her during rough times. This would be one of those times when only her sister could help her. When only the one who had always been there for her could save her again.
Finally, something happened that Phoebe had refused to do, refused herself and her body. She cried. Tears began to fall from her eyes, and she cried herself into a ball, hysterically crying. She didn’t know when Piper came into the room. She didn’t know when the now eldest sister cuddled up next to her, holding her. She didn’t remember when she began drifting to sleep to the soothing hushes of Piper, but she did remember-and always will- hearing Piper tiredly whisper, “Goodnight Prue.”