AN: It was an English assignment, and it fits pretty damn well with this category. I wrote it with the characters in the back of my mind, though no names are mentioned and a few minor things were tweaked. I'm pretty proud of this, not so much as a fic, just… as writing in general. XD It made some girls in my class cry. R/R, I'd prefer it if flames were turned to constructive criticism. Enjoy!
I can still remember the exact feeling that hit me the instant the police came to the door. Heart pumping desperately against my rib cage, trying to break free. Chest demanding air, but taking in only short, quick, shallow breaths. Whole body shaking, as if being grabbed by some outside force and being rattled for all its worth. In the pit of my stomach, a tight, closed feeling of complete and utter dread. A whirlwind of thoughts form, spiraling endlessly, each worse than the next, more earth-shattering than its predecessor. That was nothing compared to the actual news, though. When they told me they'd called an ambulance, I nearly fainted.
When they told me you were DOA, I did.
I can't remember much right before that. I think I stumbled backwards, gasping, shaking my head, willing it not to be true. This wasn't how things were supposed to go..! Sure, my life had always been weird, but not like this…! I remember one of the police officers tentatively touching my shoulder, suggesting I sit down. I remember jerking away from him. After all, it's not like he would understand.
After all, it's not like his brother had just played chicken with a train; and lost.
really sure why it surprised me. I'd
give anything to go back to when we were both babies, before any of this
happened, before the kids at school picked on you, before you isolated yourself
from everyone but me, and before I isolated myself from you.
It's kind of ironic, isn't it? The whole time you were here, when all I would've had to do was call your name, I shoved you away. I wanted you to leave me alone. Now, you're gone and it's driving me crazy. Walking to school alone, shrouded in an unbreakable silence. Coming home, alone, eating, alone… The worst is waking up in the morning to find everything exactly where I left it.
I've gone over that day so many times in my head, and each time only makes me feel worse about it. You were reaching out to me and I… I shoved you away. If I'd had any idea it would be the last time I'd see you… if I'd had any idea what you were about to do… I keep thinking that if I had only been nicer, more social, and warmer, that maybe this wouldn't have happened. Maybe if I'd at least tried to be a better sister, it wouldn't have gotten this far.
It's eating me up inside that the last things we said to each other were in argument. I couldn't find my laptop, and went with the most logical alternative – you taking it. After digging through my memory, I pieced together most of the conversation, out of some morbid desire to do so. It certainly doesn't help any, in fact, it probably makes it worse. I guess I just had to know what the last things we said to each other were. In a way I almost wish I'd forgotten, but I can't. Can't forget the look on your face when you caustically snapped "Well, I guess it'd just have been better for everyone if I'd never been born, eh?" and I can't forget the steely note in my voice when I callously replied "at least then I wouldn't have to deal with you constantly."
know how long it's been since I've seen dad, either. He's shoved himself
further into his work. If you thought Mom destroyed him… you should see him
now. Ever since he and mom split, he was never around. I never really cared, I
guess. I learnt to live with his absence. It really hit me that day, though. I
was furious. Furious that he wasn't there to hear what I was hearing, furious
that he wasn't there the one time I needed him most. Everything all boiled down to that one
moment. When he finally got home, half of me wanted to scream and ream him out
for not being there, and half of me just wanted to be comforted. The latter won
as my screams turned to sobs and I sank down against the wall.
Some of the popular girls were talking about your absence today. I think I scared them when I slammed the one talking into a locker and screamed the morbid explanation. There was honest surprise in their voices when they told me they hadn't known. I left quickly, before they could offer any half-hearted condolences. They wouldn't mean anything, besides… I didn't want them to see the tears welling up in my eyes.
And then there was my birthday. Five days ago. It started off quite dull. I didn't have any friends, unless you count the four or five I talk to in class to keep the boredom at bay. Dad saw me, briefly, in the morning to offer well-wishes, and then went off to work. School went placidly enough, so when I got home I just dragged myself into the kitchen and cut a slice of cake. That's when the doorbell rang. I had to catch myself to stop from muttering about being interrupted. I can't start talking to myself, too.
With a sigh, I hoisted myself from the table and answered the door. It was a delivery man, with a package to me. I signed for it, and sent him off, bringing the package into the kitchen. Full of curiosity, I tore it open. The content of the box made something stick in my throat. My laptop…?
about the time I saw the card. Planting myself in a chair, I reached with
shaking hand for the envelope. Nerves causing me to tear it more than I might
have under different circumstances, I paid minimal attention to the exterior of
the card and flipped it open. My heart skipped a beat. A letter, scrawled in
careful and neat handwriting. You always did have better penmanship than me.
With a steadying breath and blinking back tears, I read the letter.
Happy birthday! Hope you like the lap top. I told the guys at the store to upgrade it as much as they could with what I gave them. Should get a few more gig' and a new operating system, at least. Sorry about the whole stealing-it-from-your-room thing, I wanted it to be a surprise. Surprised?
Anyway, enough of that… Look, I know we fight a lot. I know we scream and rant and say we hate each other… I just wanted to say I'm sorry, really, I am. I may not act like it, but I do care about you. You're my little sister, after all. I know you don't like emotional stuff, so I'll keep this short. Don't worry about apologizing or anything – I know.
And next time some one calls you "that freak's sister", kick them – 'that freak's awesome sister' is more accurate.
Love ya anyways,
Your big brother"